YAWB – Yet Another Writing Blog

Let me say it this way… I have not had that much fun in a long time. Thank you, Frankie, and all the friends I know through you and Mr.-X. 🙂

There will be much description and name changing in a future installment.

I know I haven’t been writing many stories lately, things have been very busy between school and work. There is a story in the works, but I hope the poems have been keeping my one or two readers happy. Happy Friday!

Japanese Steel, II

Chopped parsley rests on the cutting board,
wet, green, smelling of chlorophyll
like fresh-cut grass.

The Ginsu Knife rests in my green fingers,
sharp, steel, finely balanced
and mass-produced.

There was a time when Japanese Steel was
crafted, folded by Masters’ hands
over many months.

I wonder how long it took for the Samurai Sword
to evolve that perfect curve for slicing,
reflected in this knife.

How long before folding the metal with soot ash
became common practice, to enhance
strength and sharpness?

How long the Shogun to accrue so many slaves
that he would test the blades
on their bodies?

Simple cuts: finger from hand, hand from wrist,
arm from shoulder, shin from knee,
head from neck?

And more complex: through thigh, through
torso and through ribs sideways,
through the skull?

Top-rated cuts: left shoulder to right torso down,
left torso to right shoulder up,
through hips and pelvis?

How long to evolve a rating system to denote
the efficiency of the blade in killing,
its strength and sharpness?

How long to evolve this massed-produced, laser-cut,
always sharp and cheap,
Ginsu Knife?

————————
This is part II of Japanese Steel series. Here is Part I. In other notes, I plan on taking this series to three or four parts. The ideas are bouncing around in my head, but they haven’t really coalesced yet. Also, this version of part II obviously needs some work, mainly in the form and word-choice areas. I also want to add another dimension to this… Something to point to the ridiculous early commercials to add a sense of humor maybe? Not sure yet.
Let me know what you think.

Well, don’t know how many of you read Salon, but I found this interesting article on the current state of masculinity in men of my generation. Big interesting ideas from

To ideas concerning sex, the purposes of dating, and other reasons for the apparent apathy of the close-to-thirty-ish men have for women, and by extension, for life in general. There are also some suggested cures for this coming plague, such as:

I have not really formed an opinion on all of this yet, but the article is enlightening, and I can see myself (or myselves of the past) having some of those attributes. So what does this mean for me, now, in my life?

Must Contemplate.

Salon Article
by Rebecca Traister

The Monday night movie-thing has been postponed until possibly tomorrow, and possibly indefinitely, due to work conflicts. The lack of a canceling phone call was not really a surprise. The surprise came at the apologizing phone call, which I (naively, maybe) took to be a good sign. But for those in suspense (including myself), we shall discover tomorrow.

A long low sun hangs at the line of earth and sky
scrub on the crests of ravines and gullies and canyons
and tile- and shingle- topped roofs
slide past the red-orange ball, flick shadows on and off:
the dark: cool, dewy; the light: warming.

the sand, the hard pack, the clay
the left the right the breathe
the sand, hardpack, clay
the left the right left breathe
scrub sand asphalt breathe
road sidewalk sand
train tracks.

breathe left right left
breathe parking lot cars
breathe ice rink doors
breathe conditioned air
breathe breathe breathe

—NOTES—
Well, this has been through several variations already. It was an exercise on line breaks, and this is the version I took in to workshop. Maybe I’ll post some of the others later… Right now I want to tighten up the first and second stanzas a little. There was some confusion in the first because of the lack of punctuation in the first part. I’m a little iffy on how I want to change it. Must think… (assumes time honored Pooh-thinking stance)

Removed while under consideration by The Atlantic Monthly.

—NOTES—

Revision 1

Well, you can tell there’s been some changes. I tried to do a little tightening as far as words like ‘the’ and ‘and.’ I hope this helped strengthen the poem. I have a habit of ending lines with words like that, and it just weakens a poem. Makes it less forceful, causes less impact. I also tidied up spelling and grammar problems, and tried to seperate the use of ‘man’ a little further. Also, I broke up the poem into stanzas. Not based on the ‘Rhythm’ lines, which one might expect, but given the topic of jazz, I tried to emulate the feeling of a jazz show, when the musicians are just up there jammin’. They come back to refrains, but not when you’d always expect. So that was part of the reasoning. Also, I tried to keep each stanza in context with itself. So, you have the audience perspective, the horn perspective, and the rhythm guys’ perspectives, and they all kind of flow into each other. It’s not a deliberate, delineated, definite seperation… but something gradual and natural. I like where it’s headed.

Let me know what you think.

I just had to put this link in. LMAO.

And I’ll have more up tomorrow… maybe.

Had one beer tonight after work with dinner. Now, granted, dinner wasn’t until 10:45 tonight, but that is just one factor that comes with working in a restaraunt. Speaking of which, there are follies attached to working in a neighborhood one, even a nice one. I won’t go into those now, but let’s just say it’s frustrating.

Anyways, I was going to work on some of those poems, but I am exhausted. So I’m going to bed. Early, I know… But I was up until 2 last night, and got up at 8 this morning. Oh, something interesting about getting up this morning: I had this dream right before I woke up. I don’t really remember it, but I do remember thrashing about in bed like I was having a seizure. That’s what woke me up. I think I was fighting my mattress. Seriously, I think I was trying to kill it. I should really write these things down when they happen, so I remember the dream. I know it was pretty crazy, and that’s about it.

Anyone out there good with dreams? I have this recurring one I’d like input on. Recurring as in once, maybe twice a year for the last ten or so years. Maybe even longer.

Time for Bed!

Woke up early to write my paper due today. Managed three pages in an hour. Luckily it was just an essay, and not a research paper. Took The Dog for a good two mile walk and about ten minutes of leash free running this morning, too. And not a sip of alcohol today.

I also learned in my Poetry Class why I tend to write in trochees rather than iambs: I grew up with them. I have three names and a surname. My first name, Eric scans thusly: