Saturday, 28 June 2008
The reason for the lack of work is that it is my Research Month. A Research Month is something that happens to me three of four times a year, wherein I discover a topic that amuses/intrigues/titillates me and go and read about it for a month or two. Come to think about it, Research Month is rather misleading, maybe it should be re-named Research Month(s).
This Research Month is on Norse mythology. This was an unfortunate choice, however, as to understand the mythology of the Norse, I found I had to understand the Anglo-Saxons, and to understand the Anglo-Saxons I have to understand the Celts. Ok, so that explained May. Then we go on to find out that to understand the myths we need to understand the way they lived, the effects of conquest, the god-damned Romans and so on and so on. Phew.
Anyway, on the up side I did learn how to write Skaldic poetry from a good translation of the Poetic Edda. Huzzah!
(*Firefox spell check wanted to put Ahab instead of "Ahah!". This makes me smile. Here you are Firefox: Ahab. I'm smiling already)
Anyway, enough placations! These aren't new, they are old bits of course work but I felt like jamming them in there.
An explanation: (I always feel the need to justify these poems, I don't know why. Maybe it is because I spent so much time on them, maybe it is because my degree relies on them being at least tolerable, maybe it's because I want everyone to know just how clever I really am, deep down, who knows.) This is really one poem in three parts, as we can see from the handy-dandy numbering system I have employed, three parts signifying the progression of a lost love through a gentleman's life. Part one is quite obviously emotional and obsessive, very teenage. Part two is more adult and traditional, still a bit self pitying. Part three, however, is all very "Aaw, wasn't that sweet. So, what's for dinner?" about the whole thing.
Oh, and they also, they progress through style (1. Spencarian Sonnet 2. Romantic 3. Free verse).
There you go. There is in fact thought behind my work. Who'd have thunk it?
There’s a girl somewhere sitting in front of a cheap, slow
public library computer
through the radiator
I realize there’s still a rose perched in my passenger
That I would see her
That I would meet
That I would greet
There is silence when I speak
i forget i am more than a hummingbird
hovering above a rare plant
i try to remember, but i can’t