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3:05:00 AM EDT
Give Voice to What You Want
Some people in J-Land have asked about assignments I give my students. Here's one. (J-Landers, if you want to give it a try, do it in a journal entry, and please leave a link in my comments section).
This assignment works best if you don't think about it too much. Choose your issue and your voice, and then just let the writing flow.
1. Think of something you would really like to happen. It doesn't matter how "impossible" you think it might be, but it should be something you feel strongly about. (It should not, however, be a personal desire such as "I wish I was rich"; it should be connected to some current issue or controversy.) Examples:
--I wish my father would stop smoking. (issue: smoking)
--I wish my little sister would stop doing ecstasy. (issue: dangerous drug use among teens)
--I wish my friend Mike would stop drinking so much.
(issue: teen alcoholism)
--I wish there would be no more wars.
(issue: war in general or a current war in particular)
2. Choose a voice that can no longer speak but is knowledgable about the issue. Write a short poem or paragraph using this voice and addressing the issue.
Sample:
issue: war
voice: someone who has died in war
IN FLANDERS FIELDS
by John McCrae
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In flanders fields.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
UPDATE:
one of the regular readers of this blog
in response to this entry:
The Mothers
What if we the mothers of the dead
called in one voice?
After roaming the desert
for centuries what would
bring them home?
No one could answer our cry
No one but our lost boys
who we can not comfort
in the cradle of civilization
nor offer the taste of
bittersweet seconds
which looking back makes-
What could we say?
Why were we silent?
Why did we let go
for a flag? For
a grain of sand?
Why did we listen to
the pronouncements of
pontificators instead of
the wisdom of
our own hearts?
What excuses remain?
Who will we accuse
in the night when
the snapshots of love
are not enough?
When the film in
the mind decays and
there is only emptiness
and the voices of
our dead sons
do not return?
Who will hear
the curse we invoke
upon ourselves?
Who will rescue us
from the abyss of
the mirror then?
Written by theresarrt7 Blog about this entry |
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I gave this a try, Theresa. I'm only a poet under duress. http://journals.aol.com/belfa
stcowboy75/TrickleofSemi-consc iousness/entries/1429 -
issue: rape
voice: the boyfriend of the victim
"Don't Touch Me Like That"
The love of my life,
the women of my dreams,
I want her to be my wife,
But it is not as easy as it seem
Cant touch her like i want to
Cant slowly rub her neck
everything i try to do
she has a flashback
I try to console her,
I try make her calm
But the face of the man that raped her
just makes loving me feel so wrong
You took so much from her
things she didnt deserve to lose
what makes you think it was okay
to not let a woman choose?
if she wanted you to touch
all the things she loved so much
she would have given you the answer you wanted
not the answer you that you heard.
NO! Stop she continued to cry,
and your ears turned deaf
now i cant make love to my wife
becaue she feels she has no soul left
"Don't touch me like that" is what she says
i cant make her feel the way you THOUGHT you did
she not even old enought to understand.....
How could you rape your child? -
very nice. judi
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Beautiful insights, Theresa. I love "Flanders Fields." It's a blank slate of memory, a Rorschach test that tells the reader far more about himself or herself than about World War I.
By the way, I received your book from Powells.com last night, The Secret of Hurricanes, and devoured it this afternoon. I'm going to write about it on my journal immediately after I finish this comment.
The subtext of your novel is so powerful. Your writing is so lyrical and contains so much that is not said.
Steven
http://journals.aol.com/stevendenlinger/DevelopingDreams/
9/8/05 7:47 AM
http://journals.aol.com/court
tHANKS FOR THE ASSIGNMENT.
AND A NURSERY RHYME...LA LADY.. http://journals.aol.com/astra