Friday, June 27, 2008

Casual Friday-Poetry III

I'm a little behind on some of the essays that will be making their way to the blog very shortly, so I figured today would be an excellent day for "Casual Friday-Poetry." This installment is going to be slightly different from the previous formats. The reason for this is that every blog that I checked was either a disguise for advertisements, or featured people advertising mp3s and eBay purchases. While I'm sure an advertising poem could be cool, I wasn't in the mood to deal with something like that tonight.

Today's idea could work, or it could be very bad, for I'm composing it as I type. Above my desk is a bookshelf. Going from left to right, I'm going to close my eyes and point to a random sentence in ten consecutive books, and these sentences will become this week's poem. Since these are copyrighted materials, I will list the books in order, but I'm not going to list page numbers. Of course, you the reader have no way to prove that I'm selecting these sentences at random...so just trust me. The books are:

1.) Shakespeare: Four Great Tragedies (Hamlet, Othello, King Lear, Macbeth)
2.) Six Memos For the Next Millennium by Italo Calvino
3.) Quarterlife Crisis: The Unique Challenges of Life In Your Twenties by Alexandra Robbins and Abby Wilner
4.) Labyrinths by Jorge Luis Borges
5.) Naked Lunch by William S. Burroughs
6.) Agape Agape by William Gaddis
7.) Infinite Jest by David Foster Wallace
8.) Welcome To the Monkey House by Kurt Vonnegut
9.) Waiting For Godot by Samuel Beckett
10.) The Most Beautiful Woman in Town by Charles Bukowski

"The Random Sentence Poem"
Before Gloucester's Castle
By Contrast, the sight of the sun or moon in a vast, airy landscape, and in a clear sky, etc., is pleasing for the vastness of the sensation.
Many twentysomethings hope that feeling never changes.
This may very well be true, but still, the formula of the Heremetic books allows us, almost to intuit this sphere.*
He begins talking in elegant tones, his stooges filling in.
That you're being used, used, used that you're being used by nature simply to perpetuate the family line, the social tribe.*
He started at some point I remember to refer to the kitchen as the Mess Tent and his den as the Marsh or Swamp.
But we formed a neighborly habit of having a drink with the McClellans once or twice a month.
Worse than the pantomime.
To take someone standing up, their size must have a certain relationship to your size.
*Edited for length.
I can't believe how appropriately this poems begins and ends. William Shakespeare sets the scene, and Charles Bukowski gives us a climax. Check out the other two poetry installments (one link is above, the other one is here). As I said for the previous one, I feel like these are becoming more coherent with each passing attempt. Please feel free to suggest other random places to look for poetry lines. I want to go beyond blogs and books.

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