Hip Hop...the bastard child of poetry

            Now when I say bastard I by no means intend that in a negative way. In fact I myself am a bastard and I think of myself in a positive light. No, Snow is not my name thereby relating me to some blank, shapeless, colorless form. Instead I am the bastard that has thrived and grown from the lack of a structured home through my own tenacious efforts to succeed and be better than what others projected.

            Hip-Hop is that statement in the music industry telling others I will be poetry but on my own terms.  I have recently taken several formal poetry courses and they have all taught you this structured approach to writing the rhymes and observations. What happens however when you don't care about following a set of rules given to you? What happens when you insists upon abstract instead of concrete? The result are the words of Kanye West, J-Cole, and Jay-Z and what about  Biggie, Mc Lyte, and Rakim.  There words speak volumes. They paint a picture, sometimes it's not so concrete and at others time you know exactly what they are stating because you have been there before. Sometimes it is that opportunity to warp their world into your own. Interpreting their emotions as your own because these were once the things you felt.

            There has been an ongoing debate to determine if hip-hop is truly a part of the poetry scene. The use of rhyme, metaphor, rhythm and story-telling certainly give hip hop the points for being a form of poetry. It's still however considered an entity onto itself and as a result not truly honored as a legitimate work of study. Only in California do they honor the words of Tupac with a class of study. Are we become such a society that we are ignoring new levels of art when at one time we embraced the emotionally empowered  hymns of the slaves or the reverberating sounds of the rhythm and blues. Another form taken and made their own hip-hop to me is the poetry of music. I understand that lyrics of a song interpret one thing all together but hip-hop is so much more than matching your words to a beat. In the right hands a portrait is built of strife, of love. Repetition helping us to remember the strange fruit of Billie Holiday introducing history to another generation.

            I am one certainly of liberal thought but I don't think it is too farfetched to consider hip hop as the current opportunity for poetry to re-invent itself.

 

From Time - Drake ft Jhene Aiko (Inspired)

 

What are you so afraid of

 

I don't know...

 

Feels like my mind moves fast

while the world strolls slow.

 
What if I don't know me any anymore

and you're the next one to walk out the door.

 
Got me thinking about that day and how I'll feel

Like a whole bunch of fiction, it'll be so unreal.

 
I don't even see you like  I used to

So I'm second guessing wanting to know if you're still you.
 

Or if the world has had its way,

And turned you into a fan of a good day.

 
Cause when clouds come you can no longer cope

So ready for the rainbows you forgot how to stay afloat.

 
Sorry I wasn't there to save you,

but I was looking for myself and I just couldn't pull through.

One Step Closer

Publishing, the next frontier... I would completely geek out and do a whole Star Trek the Next Generation reference here but I choose not to (because yes, you do have a choice in that kind of thing). What I will discuss however is this next adventure I'm about to take. In the next week I will be submitting three of my works, all poems, in an attempt to become a published author. Successful or not I will continue to make the effort to put my work together and make constant submissions. Eventually someone should see my genius (or I will force feed my genius to them).

What is the point of writing if I'm not sharing it? Success would only mean that others agree in the vision of my work, not that I'm a sellout. Why am I so scared then to put anything out there? Honestly I don't think it is a matter of being scared. What I think it is that it doesn’t hit home that to be published I'm not going to be a miracle discovery like some new planet. Instead it will take repeated attempts of bring my work to the attention of others. I love the idea of introducing people to the character of my writing. My character however has yet to be determined. Quirky, dark, or any number of things, but I know it’s not going to be “normal”. I'll start with poetry for now and go from there.

In somewhat related news I've decided a few significant things in regards to The Story of L. I can't wait to apply them but hopefully the outcome is well received. One of those decisions is to make it a novella. Until such a time is allowed that I can progress further in these projects I bid you adieu.

Poetry is the name of the game.

So I haven't been able to work on my Story of L blog. Why, not because I'm being a complete bum (although there are moments where I think my brain is fried and refuse to do anything) but because I have been attending class. This semester's focus is poetry. In fact the entire summer's focus is poetry. So I may not have the next chapter in the thrilling search for love as L seeks a new relationship but I do have about 15 recently written poems to share. Writing poetry is my hobby, not my first love, but I do find it exciting in it's own way. I will share two of my favorites with you here. I'll add postings of more as time progresses. As most writers know it is a matter of constant tweaking and the final product can always change. There are some I want to alter and others I never want to see the day of light. Until next time.

For Lover’s Only

Food for the soul is what we need to flourish. Or we
become as blue as Smurfs because we
are suffocating like animals in a zoo,
trying to clear the stagnant social dust on our lives. We
are near an end, unaware of the time that ticks by
slowly then quickly, a five step chacha. We
are unthinking of our actions as a whole,
a constant flux of situations that are forever changing
like the waves that crash against my feet.
Inconsiderate and egotistical we
never move towards the overall benefit really.
Really just selfish, all of us,
thinking only of the ones we
regard as part of our humanity. Thus
all others are less human.

I’m tired of it. The faces of physical starvation,
social indecency, and moral destruction
all part of a world that is tearing itself asunder.
A steak with two pit bulls fighting over it has a better chance.
Displeasure towards one type, distaste for another,
subtle hate all of it. Yet, they all turn to me
looking to me as if I have the answer when
I am just like them. I too am unable
to understand why we suffer
or why loss should even occur. Left feeling empty
and ashamed  like a two dollar whore
after the dick is taken out.
I question the structure of the world
only because they are me. So why don’t
I have the answers to feed myself,
nourish me, and provide myself the substance I need.
I refuse, I will not limit myself to a place than insists on death.
I will flourish and thrive.
I will go into myself only to expel outwards like a ball of fire
so that my light may shine by example.
Be myself but not the concerns of the world.

Depression

God must have washed the world in hot today.

Nothing holds a shine.
 

The sky looks as though

its dye has been rinsed away.
The emerald green of the treetops
no longer twinkles in my eyes.
Even the sun’s torch runs low
and on these days my head hangs from
the weight, heavy as boulders, swinging
on ropes like pendulums of sorrow around
my neck, their twisted knots cutting into my skin.
My arms like toothpicks are of no use
and so my feet drag
forward and the pain seeps
into my existence like a thick dark smoke.
It chokes the very life from me and leaves
my chest aching and my future dreary.
This desert of the mind has no oasis
and I am unable to find an end to its bleak landscape.

It's been awhile...

So another semester at UCF has come and gone. No excuse for why I have been MIA however I am making it one. I have few writings I will be posting shortly and a few more in the works to come soone. Another Chapter for Story of L should be completed (sorry I haven't kept my promise for a chapter a month). I have had a lot explained to me this semester as far as my writing is concerned. With these in mind I will be working hard to improve my grammar, amongst other things. Looking for faithful readers who will help me with this. Can't wait to have my next story up, until then.

The Pain of Blogging (for me, right now anyway)

Ok so yes I did start this blog thing and yes I advised I would be writing twice a week at the start. I then realized I still had a life and said ok only once a week. I would now like to state that I think I was being rather overzealous. I mean really, I am more of a do and don’t complain about things kind of person (well don’t complain much) but now I find myself getting back logged on this, my writing, and my homework. Homework does come first because it is graded and has a very specific deadline so I don’t let that slip, much.

My writing however for Story of L has been postponed and set aside for the moment. I do owe at least one chapter for this month of February. At some time it will be written. Until such time I only have the one up and I unfortunately feel like I’m slacking even though I am doing things and still working on my writing. As of recent I finished 5 different readings for my school work, started reading Moby Dick once more from where I left off, and I am currently working on another writing for my Fiction Workshop class. Between all of this I still hang with friends, take a bit of leisure time, and also keep up with my household chores. Unfortunately as the saying goes I am only human. With only so many hours in the day I still have to sleep, eat, and allow myself the opportunity to maintain good hygiene. *Deep Breath*

Ok, so now that all the complaining is out of the way yes, I am working on things to add to my portfolio. For those reading Story of L I will definitely be putting up a chapter this month. My hope is that more than one chapter will be submitted to the blog before I am done. If you haven’t read the first chapter yet please do. I promise it won’t kill you. I would love feedback and maybe I can find what I need to write in the next chapter or the one after that.

In the meantime my reading is also something that I am currently trying to increase upon so as of right now I have several things on my current reading list. As mentioned before Moby Dick was a classic I started reading in December. I unfortunately lost focus and put it down. I have since picked it up again and I am intent on finishing it before the month is out. Another reading I have noted already as well is my class reading for my American Literature course. Here I have read full samples and partial samples of different writers of the south. This past week included three writings and two songs. It was interesting reading but rather difficult in some areas with the dialect. My other class has me reading the short stories of other students. One story involved a rather cliché and extremely perfect prom to the point that it was sickening. Nothing went wrong and in the end the girl gets the guy with no hiccup whatsoever, I mean none. The other story was a sex addict who couldn’t resolve his conflict. It was interesting to read but for 37 pages it really didn’t go anywhere. With all these my other set of reading now includes monthly subscriptions to a sci-fi/fantasy magazine available online called Clarkesworld. If you like these genres the podcasts are recommended as they can give you further background but the reading can be interesting here as well.

So I’m not making up any excuses just stating the facts. I am involved. I remember one teacher told me you won’t know that you’re really doing something until your due dates start to overlap. With that in mind I must be doing something right. My most recent attendance at UCF has taught me I need to practice my trade and learn from it. So I read, I write, I learn and therefore I develop and evolve into a better writer. I am happy to know that I will never have the excuse of “boredom” because I know I always have something to do.

I have abilities beyond my knowledge...

Well fellow bloggers and blog readers, another semester has started for me so this spring 2013 I am taking my second fiction workshop in addition to my Literature of the South course. That will be two more down and three to go before I graduate in the fall of this year. Phew, it’s about time. So I am attempting to remember that I do still have a blog site (which isn’t very difficult as I am attempting to invest time into this) so I will continue to keep up my weekly postings. I am debating what kind of punishment I will suffer should I slack off of my duties. My video blog has already suffered neglect and this month’s video, as well as last month’s I believe, have yet to be posted. Next month will mark a year and I will have to decide if I am continuing that path or not. I may pause for now and wait until class is complete and focus more on my prose writing. Enough about that then, we now move on to our topic for this week.
 

So I have recently completed my reading of Stephen Kings On Writing for my fiction workshop class. This is not, unfortunately for you thrill seekers, another novel but a memoir that Stephen has written to up and coming writers. In a sense it is him sharing knowledge, things he has learned and still learning. One concept he discusses with his readers is the idea that “all the arts depend upon telepathy to some degree” (King 95). No groaning, that is in fact MLA format you see but you’ll be okay.

 I thought this over as I was reading. What if in a way we are telepaths. Myths and legends are usually stories that have been amplified by the human imagination anyway so why not. By definition telepathy is the “the communication between people of thoughts, feelings, desires, etc involving mechanisms that cannot be understood in terms of known scientific laws” as stated by the free dictionary (I figure the definition for telepathy will pretty much be the same anywhere else). Now before you think my reflection preposterous consider this. A writer who knows their job and does it well is able to create an entirely different world for the reader. The result will be that your sense are taken on a exploration of things they may never have experienced before but now they are perceiving these things as if they are happening right before them.

 

 The thoughts that writers see are translated well, for example, in movies we watch everyday. When a telepath (writer) provides images that allows us to create the visual replication of it we have executed our purpose. People can imagine the coldness of the night as the rebel group hid from opposing forces. Or maybe the reader gets a hint of the putrid smell of the surroundings the protagonist finds themselves in. Whatever the case may be the writer triggers something that allows you to actually “see” the story through your senses. King did an exercise in his book and I would like to try and do the same here. So here it goes:

 You see in front of you a dark hallway. The only light that enters is from a window at the far end. The light that seeps in is gloomy causing a gray cast across the hallway floor. It doesn’t reach the high corners of the hall and so leave them hidden in dark shadows. On either side are doors each labeled with a set of numbers followed by a letter. The door closest to you on the left has the number 18 and the letter A engraved in a bronze plate. Your arm brushes the door and you feel the chill of the coldness creep up your arm.

 

 You saw the hallway didn’t you, did you feel the cold on your arm. Telepathic abilities may very well exist. Hmm…what an interesting thought.

  

King, Stephen. On Writing: A Memoir of The Craft. New York: Pocket Books, 2000. 95. Print. "Telepathy." The Free Dictionary. Farflex. Web. 27 Jan 2013.  

        <http://www.thefreedictionary.com/telepathy>.

Experiments in Openings

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha *manic laugh* I am awful at this blogging twice a week. So until I have trained myself to look at this computer on a regular basis and not flip between this, homework, TV and other such unavoidable distractions for myself I will be doing this now only once a week (I'm sorry people, I tried).

 

I will now move onto this week’s topic of conversation: introductions.

 

Introducing a reader to a story is like fishing with the right bait, you want to get them hooked. At least that is how I like to go about things. There are different options for doing this certainly: with a funny situation, with a dramatic scene, in the middle of the story so that the reader has to figure out how the protagonist got to that point, and so on. I have attempted all of these and I always like to try and be captivating within the first page and keep it that way. Of course it is a task to try and not let the reading become monotonous after the exciting intro that would just plain suck.

 

When I do my own writing personally I find once I have a rhythm it usually works. However, I have only written short stories so this doesn’t apply overall yet. How can I keep my first book from becoming to dry or unappealing to the reader. Truth is I don’t know yet. I am reading books currently and attempting to pay attention to see what catches my attention and what doesn’t. As I have learned from reading The Satanic Verses by Salaman Rushdie big words don’t do it for me. I have a vocabulary but Rushdie had an entire dictionary. This may be reading I’d appreciate later down the road when I can look up every other word but it did not make me want to finish the book. I can’t even remember at this time what the introduction was really like, that’s bad.

At this point I have started off stories in the rain, with conversation, during sex, basically just a little of everything. I’m sure there is some formula I could find and keep repeating it but I don’t want to. For now I enjoy the flexibility of my writing and I may start one way but who knows what will come next, I certainly don’t’. For the time being I am going to just make a note to one day go down the current best sellers list for fiction and pay attention to how they all start. This seems like a good start to discovering new ways to introduce my books or short stories.

 

What follows now is the introduction to a story that struck me during a moment I was…indisposed. I decided to write it down because hey, no idea is a bad idea (until you put it into action and everything goes to hell, then it’s a bad idea). Anyway, I figure it is a pretty captivating intro because I feel it makes you ask, so what happens next? I don’t know yet how to develop the idea to this so I really don’t have any explanation for where the story is going. It was actually a piece written in reflection of a pretty dark moment for me and remembrance of someone I knew who worked a similar job. He unfortunately didn’t overcome his demons but maybe I can write this piece as a salute to him and others who were in situations parallel to his. Either way this is not for anyone who has dealt with suicide so I don’t suggest reading further if you have a weak disposition when it comes to this topic. Currently it is titled A Day in the Life, subject to change but for now I like it.

 

It’s the thought of being stuck; dealing with the same people day in and out that puts this gun to his mouth. It’s the idea that of having one more screeching customer in his ear that has him reflecting on his choices. He ponders momentarily on the bullets in the gun as his thumb pulls back on the hammer. Will it hurt, was this the cowards way out? His finger rests on the trigger of the Smith and Wesson now, careful he doesn’t pull it too soon. Life is supposed to be warm, people aren’t’ cold blooded like this gun. That doesn’t change the fact that it is because of people he finds himself locked up in the bathroom of his home sitting on the toilet preparing to end it all…

 

 

This is a work in progress. It may never go anywhere but I had fun writing it and felt it was really intense. Is this something to captivate your imagination? Does anyone have a favorite opening they’d like to share. I would love to know so that maybe I can take a closer look at how that writer does it. Back to my school work for now, new semester started. For those reading, thanks.