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Broken-Poet

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A Bookmark

1 min read
I use a receipt for a bookmark usually, but not just any old receipt. A receipt I got for a Vonnegut book must be used only in Vonnegut books. O'brein's receipts can only be used in his books. I definitely won't put Steinbeck in Bradbury. Imagine the madness of it all. Hemingway would be littered through out Joyce and Faulkner would smother Chaucer. And who would look out for poor little Nora Roberts? Oh yea, middle-aged housewives.
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It's true. They do. You see, I occasionally look at my cats and say "Meow" or "mreow" or some variation of cat-like sounds. They would, for the most part, shift their eyes at me or turn to look at me for a second and I never thought much of this action.

But I realize something now. Because of these random sounds I make, which I do almost entirely without thinking, my cats think I am utterly insane.

Think about it. It's like being taken care of a Spanish maid or a some bizarre baby sitter, and they don't speak the same language as you. You guys can't have any communication other than basic emotions through facial expressions. But every once and awhile, this caretaker looks at you and randomly yells "Wisconsin!" or "Apple Pie fuggnutters!"

Just random words. Words you understand, but they don't. And to worsen the situation, they don't even know what they're saying. You'd think they were insane. You'd pity them in some way.

My cat's think I'm insane, and they probably pity me. This realization disturbs me.



I'm not someone who would normally just make a journal entry about my cats, I'm not someone who loves them that much. I'm not a creepy cat-man. But I just had this moment of clarity, and I didn't know what to do with it. I wasn't going to put it into a poem, just not my style to put my cats into poems (except that one time in that one poem) and I definitely am not going to call what I just put down prose. This is not art, but I think it needs documentation.

That's what's really important.
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This I Believe

4 min read
My AP Language teacher tasked my class with writing a "This I Believe" essay for a final assignment. I have two more weeks to write it, but I got such a hankering to get this one belief down that I wasted no time. "This I Believe" use to be a radio program hosted by Edward Murrow, launched in 1951. The official website can be found here, thisibelieve.org/ . They use to put them on NPR, but they literally stopped broadcasting them a month or so ago. Very sad, oh well. Check the website out for some really awesome essays about people's different beliefs, all under 500 words (which is a requirement).

Here's mine:


I believe in the power of used bookstores. It might seem silly, to think that a store that traffics in supposedly unwanted books has any sort of importance, but I do. This is a particular trait that used bookstores do not share with their bigger conglomerate cousins though. And while the upfront products are physically the same— perhaps some a little worse for wear— it’s the underlying feeling that truly sets them apart.

If you travel into downtown Athens, Georgia, nestled in one of those smaller avenues between all the restaurants and Friday night entertainment, you’ll find the Jackson Street Bookstore. As far as sizes go when it comes to stores, it’s fairly tiny, but compared to other used bookstores, it’s massive. The bookshelves reach for the sky and the rows seem like corridors, each built from books, made from stories. There are so many books here that they must line them up at the bottom for lack of space and you’ll need a ladder or a stool to reach the upper most shelves.

I don’t go to a place like that to look for a new release, or to look for anything specific really. I simply go there to look, to feel— these bookstores don’t have the corporate atmosphere of those megastores that sell books with their coffee. Book stores, like the one on Jackson Street, feel old, but, in a beautiful paradox, new. If someone claims to have read even an eighth of the books there, then I’d say they’re lying.

These stores, they also feel oddly mystical and it is precisely this quality that graduates them from an interesting place to something much, much more. There are stories here— stories that fill hundreds upon millions of pages. But what makes these stories so important is that they’re my stories, yours too. They’re our stories, myths, epics, and legends. Things that would have been passed down by word of mouth generations ago are now traded freely between readers, facilitated by used bookstores. You can run your hand between the top of the books and the shelf above them, and you’ll feel pages that have been worn by their worth. Some pages are dog eared and bent down; a few notes are scrawled in the margins; and each of these little mementos from the book’s past acts as a tiny link. As a reader, I thank these previous owners, because if not for them I wouldn’t have this book, might not have ever even read it.  In that, these books abandon all notions sterility, and hold close an edge of grungy, realistic humanity.

All of this culminates to make these bookstore visits into something that is not unlike a religious experience. The handling of our hard won virtues and long contemplated realizations is not a matter to be taken lightly, and the manner in which these are sustained and taught should be treasured like artifacts. I believe this makes a used book store nothing less than a shaman.
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If you are reading this, then chances dictate that you have at some point in the past delved into my literary closet and hinging on this distinct possibility, it can be assumed that you know I write in Free Verse. Now, I don't consider myself an expert by any means, at best a journeyman in the field, but after extensive research (AKA: Reading the Wikipedia article and telling my cat all about it), I'm going to attempt to put together a sufficient journal that will hopefully be of some help to some poet somewhere.  

To understand free verse, one must first understand the concept.

Free verse's simplified, modern definition is "a style of poetry where there is no set rhyme, rhythm, meter or even form". It's said in its name really. Free verse is quite free, allowing the poet to explore different avenues than regular, set styles of poetry. Everyone can open a book of sonnets and expect to find 14 lines in each poem. Free verse on the other hand, the poems can vary in length, size, shape, and the list goes on. Logically speaking, all forms of poetry that don't meet any other specific category are automatically filed under free verse.

One thing to note is that although no rhyme, rhythm, meter or form is necessary in free verse, it is not explicitly stated that these things should be lacking. By Zeus, no! They aren't required in the slightest, but they can be a useful rhetorical device nonetheless. No one will stop you from inserting a few rhymes into your poem or putting in several lines that contain a specific number of syllables. The beauty of free verse is that all the elements of regularly poetry and, indeed, writing in general can come and go at the writer's whim.

But, as T.S. Elliot wrote of free verse, "No verse is free for the man who wants to do a good job." While "a good job" is in the eye of the beholder, Elliot makes an excellent point. There is only one base definition of poetry left when it concerns free verse: a series of lines that come together to express the writer's purpose(s) or emotion(s). One cannot write a paragraph and call it poetry. Even free form poetry can be recognized as poetry. So, by this reasoning the one and only rule of free verse is poetry is "It has to be poetry", which is understandable in most regards.

Most people mistake free verse for laziness, but in truth, it can be just as intensive and time consuming as any other form of writing. Yes, there are some people out there who can jot down a few lines and it will be a masterpiece, but then again there are those insane exceptions everywhere in life. For the most part, one cannot simple just start writing with no pre-thought. If one does, they may just come up with a jumbled mess that might as well be nonsensical ramblings. I have, admittedly, done this before and while it's an interesting outlet for free floating thoughts, it's not a proper way to form a poem that holds a purpose and some real value. Expressing your thoughts or yourself through a poem will take time to do so properly.

One thing I have learned about writing in general is that one must experiment if they wish to become better. Oh, don't get me wrong. You can study styles out of a book, you can read poetry, you can do all these things, but to achieve true personal growth in writing, a person must experiment. This can translate into repeating the experiment, writing more and more of your preferred style until you become the undisputed master of it, or, as someone can in free verse, playing around with an assortment of different details that can coalesce into a poem.  

Experimenting with writing poetry, like science, begins with a question:

"Why should this line start at the margin?"

"Does putting this word here make it ironic?"

"What if I were to include this remark in parenthesis? Would it make the reader think more or would it just seem like a pointless addition?"

"If I put this comma here, will the reader automatically run all of the lines together when reading and not realize that the one simple comma that they themselves overlooked change the whole damn meaning of the stanza?"

I am an advocate of experimenting. Call me a transcendentalist but you can learn so much from simply trying things out. Screw around with enjambment! Play with metaphors! Frolic with alliteration! Put punctuation where it doesn't usually go (and perhaps try a little parallel syntax ;) )! Free verse offers the most freedom of any style of poetry and as such, it is practically made for experimentation.

In fact, that is its greatest strength. You can simply break away the conforming bonds of regular styles and write just what you wish to. While some favor a set of rules of which to adhere to, others, like me, opt for writing things exactly as we want them.

I'm not claiming that other poetry styles are obsolete or that free verse is better (though, come on, let's be honest. :D ). I know it's not for everyone and if you love to write haiku or limericks, well (by gosh, by gum, by golly jee), you write the hell out of those haiku and/or limericks.

So, in summary:

Free verse poetry is really free and you should like, totally experiment with and stuff. But most of all,

EXPERIMENT!

You might just be surprised with how freeing it is.
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We'll guys and gals, I've chosen the winners and I must say that it was a heated race. Now, now. EveryONE's (you'll get that at a later time) submissions were absolutely splendid. It was a beautiful turn out, more than I could have ever asked for.

And the results are in, so let's see.

The Grand Prize Winners Are:

That Cold Monday by Broken-Poet (broken-poet.deviantart.com/art…)

Half-Ginger by Broken-Poet (broken-poet.deviantart.com/art…)

The Weatherman Says by Broken-Poet (broken-poet.deviantart.com/art…)

She Was Framed in Blue by Broken-Poet (broken-poet.deviantart.com/art…)

WOW! What a wonderful line up! Can we get a round of applause?

*hears crickets*

Well... ok. Anyways. These four poems will be submitted to different magazines. When one turns them down, they will be sent to the next. Double booking poems would be unprofessional and we all know that is one thing I am not!

I reserve the right to change the line-up at any point or time. If any of you two who actually read this journal think another poem is better than these four, let me know and if you have a reason beyond "it's purty", feel free to tell me. Also, if I grow too impatient I have runners up selected that will be possibilities for other magazines.

They are "Under the Jungle Gym" (broken-poet.deviantart.com/art…), "I asked Julio" (broken-poet.deviantart.com/art…), "Oh you frigid bitch" (broken-poet.deviantart.com/art…), and "we could go to Ohio" (broken-poet.deviantart.com/art…).

You'll notice those four are more of my experimental poems. Hopefully, if I do submit them somewhere, their "charm" won't be mistaken for "childishness".

Hopefully.

I'll skip the SAYSTLOFOGFAL (Some Authors You Should Totally Look Out For or, God Forbid, Actually Like) for now. Haven't given much thought into it at the moment.

OGC(One Good Club):
:iconwickedlyloquacious:

Catch ya next time, wannabe cowboys.
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Featured

A Bookmark by Broken-Poet, journal

My cats think I'm crazy by Broken-Poet, journal

This I Believe by Broken-Poet, journal

On Writing Free Verse by Broken-Poet, journal

We have our winners! by Broken-Poet, journal