Shots Before the Finals

Hmm... Turns out this project is actually two per week not two throughout the three weeks. Hmm... That does put a damper on things, with the APUSH project's due date and both that class and Wolfe's finals falling early next week. And that French project, if I overreach again (which - as with every art project - is inevitable), will gobble up a few more days than needed. Hmm... Yes, this definitely does put quite a damper on things.

But I gotta be fair (Darn you, logic!).This project is here to painlessly help cushion our grades, and we'll probably need some outlet for our exam/final stress. Besides, to be honest, I kinda was hoping (somewhere in the back of my heart) that we'd do more of these. I always have some musing fermenting in my mind, and this project pushes me just enough to pour some of it out to see what shape and color it takes against the light.

But no matter how I spin this project positively, it still won't fix the time crunch. And sadly, the thoughts I want to see are too long to pen type in scheduled sittings. For now, I guess, I can at least jot down some of the wordplay I tinker with while I'm sitting on the bus or brushing my teeth. If anything, I guess I can pool them together and maybe offer it as a sample of the weird, nerdy stuff I churn in my noggin.

--//--

The Angel

The angel has once again 7

Fallen from her realm. 5

Perfunctory in every step, 8

She climbs back up, unharmed. 6

26

The Ocean

The ocean lunges forward, 7

Greed guiding its blind hands. 6

But all the treasures it can grasp 8

Slip back into the sand. 6

27

The Valentine

I can't promise you the ocean;  8

I can't promise you the moon. 7

I can only promise you my heart 8

If you would give yours too. 6

29

The Pendulum

The pendulum swings to time, 7

Ticking for a chime. 5

It follows its mandate design 8

Though it does not know why. 6

26

The Islander

"Even though I'm from the Islands, I've never actually seen the ocean. And Uncle tells me that that's quite a shame then that I've never heard the ocean breathe. I've never heard her laugh in the summer, gasp during Lent, or sigh wistfully for the full moon every night. He says it's sad that I can't even hear the gossip of the leaves, which, I'm told, even the youngest toddler in my village can do."

--//--

I tried to polish them, but they're still very rough especially since I don't know how and where these fragments are going to fit. "The Islander" doesn't really flow as I'd like it to, especially between the second and third sentence. I could try this though

I've never heard her laugh like she does on a May day, when the kids are out to play. I've never heard her sob like she does during Lent, when the flagellants come to show their wounds. And I've never heard her sigh like she does at night, when she and the full moon are all alone together.

I like how when you say those sentences out loud it sort of sounds like a tide on the beach: your voice kinda swells up as you reach the middle, before ebbing back with the subordinate clause. Of course, I haven't exactly captured that rhythm; there's definitely a couple of ripples here and there. But it's nice to think that, with a little more editing and revising, I could've maybe captured that lullaby. And then (maybe) I could say that, even though I've never actually seen the ocean of my country, I can profess that I too still feel her heart beat inside me.

Wow, that was maudlin. I'll definitely save that for when I have to write some banal dime-novel.

As for the numbers on the poems, I keep falling into this short, lyrical pattern whenever I write try to scribble poetry and I'm trying to figure out what it is and where I got it. It sounds really familiar and simple though. Ah well, MS Word says I got about 500 words, so that should count as three paragraphs right? Haha, well it was worth a shot.