The Dead Poet Society

If you like poetry you may want to check out the new blog that I am working on with Todd Anderson. It is called The Dead Poet Society and on it we focus on analyzing poetry from many different English periods as well as reviewing and editing our own work.

We will also be hosting a Dead Poet Society meeting every Thursday morning at 9:00am in the OC Cafeteria. Please join us.

Yes, YOU.

Just so you know...

I have a new e-mail address. I'm not going to actually type it on here because I'm paranoid, but I will say this: It is the same as my trent e-mail, and the opposite of my hotmail, followed by: @gmail.com

Thanks for the invite, Todd!

/and so it goes.../

I thought I would give you something to play with.

And I would play too.

I am waiting for the

Anyway.

As I was saying, I'm currently at Trent sitting in the Bata computer lab. Waitin \g for TCF to start.

I should also eat food.


Mock on Mock on William Blake!

My brain feels weird right now if you could not tell. I just want to type whatever pops into it how\\\I think perhaps I've had a lack of rest

Or maybe I just disappointed someone I respect a whole lot.

(I think its both)....

I have not managed to say anything I intended to.
too much interior clang..

is.dead


sh/i/ne.[m]

un-Deliever

Close the Black Gate!
Close the Black Gate!

You are officially late.
I've been waiting
oh so long.

Your words will no longer be considered.
You waited too long.

You say, "It's candy!"
But I feel sour.

This is how it feels
This is how it feels

Closing with a bang
And a whimper!

With a lie
and a shudder!

With an enemy
that's a brother!

Free lines, Free lines
Broken lines
Fragmented sentences

See you
see you play
see you play short phrases
Play, now, play!

And swing the broken words

Close the
Close
the
Close the Black
Black
stutter
Close
stutter
shudder
strutter
the
Black
Break
Gate!
fate
rate
mate

Your late--

silent in your car

I wrote my name on the roof cushion of your car
with my finger,
as if to leave a piece of me behind.
I hoped that you would see it someday
but it faded,
nearly as quick as I wrote it.
A negative answer followed by a scream. Then it was gone.

Unspoken Messages

Dear [_____]:

1.
I still love you.

Love, NS.

2.
Do not make rash decisions. They have reasons for everything they have chosen.

Love, NS.

3.
You never knew.

Love, NS.

4.
I think that you are wrong, but you are a challenge to me in the deepest ways.

Love, NS.

5.
You are the closest to a brother I will ever have.

Love, NS.

6.
You act like it never happened.

Love, NS.

7.
You've hurt me so much that I find it difficult to love you. But I do.

Love, NS.

8.
I regret making the right decision. I wish I made the wrong one. Because then I would know what it feels like to ...

Love, NS.

9.
You never called.

Love, NS.

10.
[removed by the author]

Love, NS.

No less days to sing God's praise

Listening to: Suffering and the Hideous Thieves- Amazing Grace The prettiest version of this sng I've ever heard... and it's the whole song, every verse.

Yesterday at church we had 6 university age visitors, three from KLBC, three from Trent.

Sarah (MacDonald) discussed our work with Bon Samaritan. (I am part of the fundraising committee). She mentioned that Pierre (The Haitian President of Bon Samaritan) is saving money to build a High School, that would be Christian based, and would supply free education to poor teens living in the villages surrounding it. Most Haitian teens can't afford to go to school, and those that can often have to tavel hours to get there.

When she said this I literally had to gasp for air and I almost fell out of my chair, and I had goosebumps all over my body. I realized that I could teach at this school, and thus be fulfilling every one of my current life goals (teach, preach, work with languages) without needing any more education. I would need to learn French fluently however. In any case, I'm pretty excited about this prospect, and I need to pray about it lots.

After church We went to the zoo with the KLBCers, and Kim and I had an excellent conversation with Kim about the Bon Samaritan presentation. Pretty much her response was exactly the same as mine. We decided to learn French together, as she has a bunch of french language texts that were written specifically for Christian missionaries. How convenient is that?

Hopefully the missionary trip for January will work out.

Speaking of that, we have a FUNDRAISING COFFEE HOUSE that will occur sometime in NOVEMBER. If you would like to PERFORM, VOLUNTEER or DONATE ART, please contact me. (Block caps for emphasis, not shouts).

Anyway, that was Sunday.

Now its time to read more poetry.

Parents Beware!

Todd Anderson has recenty informed me that my blog is censored due to "inappropriate content" by his parental lock software. That's hilarious. I guess I use words like "piss" and "ass" too much.

At least his software works.

And you can all rest assured knowing that I am corrupting your childrens' minds.

He's Money

The man and girl at the mall

He's money

Manhood
wrapped
into one.

He's your dinner
arm
on your
side.

He's your old man sugar
daddy

daddy, you're his sugar
baby

baby, you're so sexy
such a good
ride.

He's money
You're pride.

"How have you been?"

Ah, the unaviodable first week question.

How have I been?

I always go on a roll about how it is impossible to know how a person has "been" unless they tell you all of the current events in their life, and their feelings towards those events. Then you can know "how" a person "is."

But I guess I'm just like that.

Ashlee asked me to tell her the best and worst things that happened this summer...

Best: Visiting my Dad in Toronto.
Worst: Sarah and I not working out. (Though I said it much more melodramatically...)

My personal flaws are all the more evident to me.

I had an argument with my dad today. He said some insulting things about certain people. This may be seen as arrogant, but I tried to "teach him a lesson," by pointing out similar character flaws in him that he pointed out in the people.

The idea was that he would see that they wouldn't appreciate it as much as he doesn't. It didn't work, and above that, I crossed the line into parental disrespect. I intend to apologize for this, but I am at a loss, because I don't want to apologize in a way that makes him think that I've concluded that my position is wrong, nor do I want my apology to spark another argument.

Pointing out the flaws of others, makes me realize how much of a sinner I am.
(Criticism as inspiration?)
It's bad. I need to pull that big log out of my eye, I think.

Otherwise...

I went camping at Bon Echo Provincial Park on the weekend. It was with the "Young Adults" group at my church. Those present were: Heather, Kim, Sarah, Josh, Tonya, Steve, Mark, Ellen, and myself. We went on a 6.5 hour canoe trip. Portages are both humbling and character building. However my self-centredness did lead to a minor argument with Sarah. (Again, more evidence of my flaws...)

The most beautiful part was canoeing through Mazinaw Lake beside Mazinaw Rock. Amongst many Native pictographs (from an era past) is an incription from Walt Whitman (the father of Modern Poetry). It brings me to tears thinking about it.

"Old Walt"

Your words etched in the rock, breaking the water.
Still there, forever, greeting me as I sing.

Your words etched by a different hand, my fingers in the cracks:

Of democracy I sing.
Of working men, with their tired lives and broken eyes.
Their flat words, empty, they sing.

Reverberate off pale walls.
Sing them your songs.

Of dignity and value I sing, and all are equal.
Of lonliness and dead ideals,
Shattered love I sing.

Oh, my tongue is not worthy of the Muse!

Of Postmodern Man I sing, and my voice cracks with the sound.

How it feels to be something....

Listening to: Sunny Day Real Estate- 100 Million I got the album How it feels to be something on in Toronto. This is often considered SDRE's masterwork. When I first heard it my response was, "Wow, that's so... soft and quiet." Every song is a quiet ballad... even this song, that features a double-bass pedal is a ballad, and I didn't think that was possible. The lyrics are also very opaque. Definitely a grower, but very engaging nonetheless. The album art is also killer.

Today was my first day of con-ed placement at St. Peter's Secondary School (SPSS). My host teacher is Mr. Steve Brown. We have two grade 10 classes (one applied, one academic) and an Academic grade 12 class (with 37[!] students). All history. Practice with my second teachable.

We've already begun to plan my teaching stuff, I'll be doing five lessons on 1920's culture (such issues as prohibition, "flappers," and the like). Mr. Brown is the most organized teacher I've ever met, and SPSS is the most organized school I've ever walked into. I should compliment the principal.

I'm excited for school again.

This weekend is the Young Adults camping trip. So good. And that reminds me, I need to phone MEAGHAN CULKEEN to force her...uhm... invite her to come.

Keep it real.

"Kitty's got mad dandruff."

Listening to: Suffering and the Hideous Thieves- I Will Always Find a Way Can't get enough if this stuff, I definitely need to get the new album... and all the old ones considering Rats in Heaven is the only one I have. I would LOVE to see this band live. Hey, Jeff, come to Toronto!

Ode to Labour Day

Labour day, oh, labour day, thou art my
Last day of summer, warm in my young heart.
Oh, Labour day, I loved you from the start.
As I look into the pretty blue sky
So much meets my young bespectacled eye,
I went to the zoo and thought it was smart.
All the animals, and the red train cart
So pretty that it makes me want to cry.
I do not wish for Labour day to end.
Soon the school, homework, and late nights begin,
This tease of a day must truly be sin!
And in eight months my broken heart will mend.
The birds will sing, and summer will make way,
For a brand new happy next Labour day!

There's a wonderful (uh, utterly crappy) labour day sonnet following in the pattern of John Donne's Holy Sonnets. It's not that I enjoy writing utter pieces of crap, I just want to practice the style.

Today I hung out with Kyle Young, Andrew Young, and Sarah, and yes, we went to the zoo. We also went to Starbucks, and I'm actually starting to like it there... sigh.

Tomorrow my con-ed placement starts.

Anyway, have fun while you can, for summer has now ended.

oh yeah, my cat really does have mad dandruff, thanks to Shannon Culkeen for that quotation.

The "Sojourn"

Listening to: Suffering and the Hideous Thieves- Believe New track from the upcoming album "Ashamed." Sounds promising. Jeff Suffering, formerly of Ninety Pound Wuss with all his friends.

Last weekend I went on a trip to Toronto. (A "sojourn," if you will. Laura.) I went with Jerry to visit my dad and go shopping. Here is the play by play...

Friday:
7:45 am: leave for Toronto on Greyhound bus
10:30 am: arrive in Toronto, take public transit to Mitchell's Christian Bookstore. Buy things.
Later: Arrive at dad's house, watch Terminator 2: Ultimate Edition DVD.

Saturday:
6:45 am: awaken. Bacon and eggs goodness.
9:00 am: Fun at Starbucks. I finally ordered a Triple-skinny, two-thirds decaf, extra foam, grande mocha. Interesting. Not worth $5 however.
10:00 am: Go shopping. We went to: Sonic Boom Records, HMV, Rotate This, Beguiling, Largest Bookstore, etc.
4:00pm: Return home, have Chicken caesar salad, watch Meet the Parents and Meet the Fockers.

Sunday:
10:30 am: Go to Long Branch Baptist Church.
2:00 pm: Go home
4:00 pm: arrive home. Collapse.

Here is a list of the stuff I got.

CDs:
The Blamed- Give Us Barabbas
Johnny Cash- The Legend (Four cd boxed set, present from Dad)
Danielson Famile- "Tri-Danielson!!!" (Alpha)
Fear Before the March of Flames- Odd How People Shake
Mae- Destination: Beautiful
Starflyer 59- Silver (Extended Edition)
Suffering and the Hideous Thieves- Rats in Heaven
Sunny Day Real Estate- How it Feels to Be Something On

Books:
John Donne, Complete English Poetry
Andrew Schwab, It's All Downhill From Here
Jeff Smith, Bone: One Volume Edition
Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass
William Carlos Williams, Selected Poetry

My dad also gave me a pair of 1980's Doc Marten's that he bought new and only wore twice. Rocks to that!

The trip was fun. I've never stayed at my dad's house before. Crazy emotions. Hard to describe.

Reeling in shock.

Dad's couch uncomfortable.
Dad's cooking good.

A Poem

He said,
"Poetry

is perceived
as words

gradually revealed

line
by
line

by the
poet,

separted
by empty
white

spaces."