Paragraph to Poem

Inside the room there is a laundry basket overflowing
A pair of boots, one pair of converse and another pair of athletic sneakers
gather around the basket on a handmade rug
I made the rug from my old roommate's old t-shirts over the summer
With one leap of the eye, there is a bed. 
It's up against the white, bumpy wall
There are plenty of blankets and pillows piled high to increase comfort
Sitting against the main pillow is Rosebud, the bear 
my grandpa gave me when I was little 
Her cloth body is alert and sitting up straight 

Up against the bed is a sturdy wooden desk and matching bookcase 
Books line the shelves along with picture frames and other mementos
Among the fictional books are a few textbooks and many sketchbooks
There's a photo of me and my mom leaning against glass soda bottles
Adjacent to the bottles there is a recent family photo album
that I look at when I'm feeling sad
Another frame contains a photo of a fountain from Spain
That my friend Mikey printed and gave to me for Christmas
A different frame displays a postcard I bought in Spain
It's a Picasso quote that says 
"el principal enemigo de la creatividad es el buen gusto."

On the side of the bookcase there are bible verses 
My former teammate wrote a card for me that has Psalm 143:8 on it
"Let me hear of your unfailing love each morning
for I am trusting you. Show me where to walk
for I give myself to you." I like to wake up and read it.
There are pictures that a seven year old best friend made for me
There is also a quote about courage. 
"Courage doesn't always ROAR.
 Sometimes courage is the quiet voice each day 
saying 'I will try again tomorrow'"

Hanging on the wall above the bed there is a cloth memo board 
the ones with ribbon that hold things relatively in place
Newspaper and magazine cut outs litter the board along with 
photos, paint samples, cards and other things artists pick up
The magazine clips are motivational phrases or silly things
"I could use a latte." "Rosetta Stone: Live Life Fluently." "Victory starts here."
There's a Marvin comic about being lactose intolerant
A fortune from a cookie, ticket stubs, Jars of Clay backstage pass
Above that there are  five other picture frames
Three contain actual photos. 
Me and two of my best friends in Nicaragua for a missions trip
A picture of me and a friend that was taken by a third friend
A collage of senior pictures
The others display quotes
"Art is a lie that makes us realize the truth." Picasso.
A Martin Luther quote about how God writes stories in nature
decoded by a friend's dad out of the newspaper
A slew of quotes in a frame my sister gave me for my birthday
She's always gives me pep talks, even when we're apart

A string of lights reflect in the glass of the frames   
On the wall that supports the majority of the pillows on the bed 
 a collection of papers, hung with tape
Who really cares about the rules? 
A postcard and a regular card from my sister
three drawings from aforementioned best friend and niece 
a calendar picture of a door in Italy
a Lawrence Welk record pinned to a bullitin board
that reminds me of my grandparents
three hats supported by 3M hooks
a Downton Abbey calendar and two magazine pages 
temporarily fixed to the wall.

Descriptive Paragraph

     Inside the room there is a laundry basket overflowing. A pair of boots, one pair of converse and another pair of athletic sneakers gather around the basket on a handmade rug. I made the rug from my old roommate's old t-shirts over the summer. With one leap of the eye, there is a bed. It's up against the white, bumpy wall. There are plenty of blankets and pillows piled high to increase comfort. Sitting against the main pillow is Rosebud, the bear my grandpa gave me when I was little. Her cloth body is alert and sitting up straight. Up against the bed is a sturdy wooden desk and matching bookcase. Books line the shelves along with picture frames and other mementos. No matter how many times I try to clean it, something always finds its way onto the desk. This time it's a water bottle, Van Gogh mug, a couple notebooks, an alarm clock and some lotion. On the side of the bookcase there are bible verses and pictures that a seven year old best friend made. There is also a quote about courage. A corresponding chair is tucked into the desk. A vest and sweatshirt make their home on the back of the it. Hanging on the wall above the bed there is a cloth memo board, the ones with ribbon that hold things relatively in place. Newspaper and magazine cut outs litter the board along with photos, paint samples, cards and other things artists pick up. Above that there are  five other picture frames. Three contain actual photos, and the others display motivating quotes. A string of lights reflect in the glass of the frames.   On the wall that supports the majority of the pillows on the bed is a collection of meaningful things, hung with tape. Who really cares about the rules? A postcard, a regular card from my sister, three drawings from aforementioned best friend and niece, a calendar picture of a door in Italy, a Lawrence Welk record, three hats, a Downton Abbey calendar and two magazine pages are temporarily fixed to the wall.  

I Understand

I Understand
sometimes what you are carrying
is more important than the 
clothes that are soaked through
the makeup running down your face
or hair draped like soggy curtains hanging on your ears 
It doesn't matter what happens to your body
as long as what's with you stays dry 

He met her at the park

He met her at the park

Where they usually met after work

and then walked the rest of the way home, together

When he saw her this time

sitting by herself, waiting for him

he collapsed in grief and into her arms

no one in the big city but them

and he told her they couldn't meet there anymore

because his boss let him go

Hugging him close

She whispered into his neck 

Only God can measure how much I love you

Photo: Stephen Salmieri, New York

Process

During my meeting with Professor Zoller, I asked him about process. He told me how his was of writing has changed through the years and he also printed out an essay by William Stafford entitled A Way of Writing. 

Our next assignment was to describe what we tried to do with the previous task poems.

It took me a while to actually figure out what we were supposed to do. Once I reread the instructions and understood that, I started to read the prose and mark where I thought the lines should break. We were to focus more on sound at this point. I generally divided the paragraph into thoughts or sentences. Once I did that I wrote it out and revised the new poems further as I typed them in. The second half of the assignment was to make sense of the poems. I crossed out words or complete lines I thought were not necessary, did not fit into what I wanted the poem to mean, or simply did not work. Then I took the lines and rearranged them to recompose their meaning.

Poetry Skills Exercise

Two paragraphs from John McPhee's The Pine Barrens converted into poetic form

One
The Pine Barrens once had their own particular witch
Pineys put salt over their doors to
discourage visits from
The Witch of the Pines, Peggy Clevenger
It was know that she could turn herself into a rabbit
for a dog was once seen chasing a rabbit
and the rabbit jumped through the window of a house
and there-in the same instant, in the window-stood Peggy Clevenger
On another occasion, a man saw a lizard
and he tried to kill it with a rock
when the rock hit the lizard it disappeared
and Peggy Clevenger materialized
and smacked the man in the face
Clevenger is a Hessian name
Peggy lived in Pasadena
another of the now vanished towns
about five miles east of Mt. Misery
It was said that she had a stocking full of gold
Her remains were found one morning
in the smoking ruins of her cabin
but there was no trace of the gold

Two


Peggy lived in Pasadena
another of the now vanished towns
about five miles east of Mt. Misery
It was said that she had a stocking full of gold
Her remains were found one morning
in the smoking ruins of her cabin
but there was no trace of the gold


The Pine Barrens once had their own witch
Pineys put salt over their doors to
discourage visits from
The Witch of the Pines, Peggy Clevenger
It was know that she could turn herself into a rabbit
for a dog was once seen chasing a rabbit
and the rabbit jumped through the window of a house
and there-in the same instant, in the window-stood Peggy Clevenger
On another occasion, a man saw a lizard
and he tried to kill it with a rock
when the rock hit the lizard it disappeared
and Peggy Clevenger materialized
and smacked the man in the face

Three
We had come to a clearing house
where thousands of blueberry bushes grew
In the center of it was the packing house
a small, low building with open and screenless windows on all sides
In front of it was a school bus marked "Farm Labor Transport"
The driver stood beside his bus
He was a tall and amiable looking man with bare feet
He wore green trousers and a T-shirt
The end of the working day had come
Pickers were swarming around a pump
old women, middle-aged men, a young girl
A line was waiting to use an outhouse near the pump

Inside the packing house, berries half and inch thick were
rolling upon a portable conveyor belt
and, eventually, into pint boxes
Charlie's sister was packing the boxes
Charlie's daughter-in-law was putting cellophane over them and
Charlie's son Jim was supervising the operation
Charlie picked up a pint box in which berries were mounded high
and he told me with disgust that some supermarket chains
knock off the mounds of extra berries and put them in new boxes
getting three or four extra pints per twelve-box tray

At one window, pickers were turning in tickets of various colors
and they were given cash in return
One picker who appeared to be at least in his sixties
tapped Charlie on the arm and showed him
a thick packet of tickets held together with a rubber band
"I found these," the man said
"They must have fallen out of your son's pockets"
He gave the packet to Charlie
who thanked him and counted the tickets
Charlie said "These tickets are worth seventy-five dollars."

I don't think the last poem has to be reworked in order to make sense. It has a thematic center and begins by describing the area outside, goes inside and then finishes back outside.

Bienvenidos

Welcome to Tea, Poetry, and Some Clarity. My name is Katie Kloos and this is my blog for Poetry class.

I write a poem every day and have for a little over 2 years. Here they are if you want to read them.

First 365

Take Two

Third Time's a Charm