Belated Poetry

I can't believe I never ended up posting these after I was done.  Here are the poems that I wrote for EN 215 in September of 2010.  The first two use the "every other line" rhyming convention.  The third is of the more experimental variety.  It kind of has a beatnik feel to it.  Anyways, without further adieu...MY POEMS! 

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Past

Sitting all alone on this cool September eve,

Thinking oh so fondly of my past.

Going back in time to days of Ol’ when plans were new,

And the innocence of youth was still in tact;

When dreams were still a brewing waiting idly in their pots

For days to come when plans would hatch or maybe they would not.

Though all that didn’t matter way back then when we were young

We only cared for play, for the sticking out of tongues

But oh how I know better now as sad as that may be

The truth has settled in my brain at last.

Sitting here all by myself this cool September eve,

Thinking oh so fondly of my past.

The Music All Around

Hear the music all around

Like wind beneath your feet.

It whistles and toots and hums and pounds,

A symphony complete.

The Clarinets and Oboes

Are the whistlers of the group.

They tend to warm the soul

As do the Piccolos and Flutes.

Violins are in there also

Playing out their role

Bows gliding up and down their strings

Striking sweet melodic chords.

The Trumpets, Saxes and Trombones

All join to do their part,

Playing out the harmony

Which leads us to the heart.

Percussion is the heartbeat

That keeps the tune alive

The heartbeat of the sound

Of things and people going by

It’s in the steps and stomps from feet

Of people walking past

Or in the flutter of a flag

Up high upon its mast.

Hear the music all around

It’s everywhere you go

All you have to do is listen,

To the heartbeat of your soul.

Time Fleeting In Plenty

The time is ticking by

Seconds tick, tick, tock.

Minutes follow after,

Not as often but still many

Hours seem to be the longest.

After hours it’s still longer yet, except it goes by faster

Days pass as though only hours have taken place

Weeks are the more devious of characters

They seem long but then they’re gone.

Months are similar in nature

Only slightly more conniving

And then years come, the worst of all,

So many months and weeks and days

All those things wrapped into one

Each going by at their own rate

But then a year has gone by

Until years have passed

Until there is no more time. 

Journaling

It seems journaling has paid off.  About a month ago, I had enough time to put my pencil to paper for recreational purposes.  I'd had a busy schedule, words that I'm still repeating and fear I may continue for the rest of my life.  At any rate, I had a moment to write but didn't have access to the internet so I wrote in my notebook:

10/13/11

I've been cajoled into attending a high school volleyball game at Marquette by my girlfriend who is volunteering there with Norther's club team.  Let it be known that I've only ever attended one other volleyball game (no longer true).  Sporting events are noisy things but specially a girls volleyball game in high school.  While the two teams are playing, the next game's teams are sitting on the sidelines in a cheering competition with each other that, in addition to the fans chatter, the buzzer, and the ref's whistle, is a cacophony of noise.


Watching this game, or half watching as I am simultaneously writing this makes me wish I had gone to games at my own high school.  I would hear about them but never attend.  And the sporting events that I did attend outside of being in band, I spent most of talking to my friends.  Still, I wish I would have experienced it...if for no other reason to say that I had done it.  That I had experienced high school.  That I lived.

It's amazing how much shorter that looks after I've typed it up.

From the desk to the sink...

It's been a month now that I've been working at the Market Place.  No more does the din of printers being turned on and warming up fill the air.  No more am I required to roll up a large metal door or punch holes in print cards and check in and out equipment. No more do I see fellow Art and Design Students during work on their way to or from class.  I miss it all.  However, everything must end.  And when one things ends, another begins.  Cliche, I know.  Still, it's true.

Every moment of working at the Market Place so far has been a great experience.  Even the parts that I haven't been all that crazy about from getting up before the crack of dawn, to scrubbing pans until my nails are dirty, have been great experiences.  The scrubbing pans part is what I do during the week on Tuesday's and Friday's from 7:00 am to 11:00 am.  If you've never any had dish-washing experience on a large commercial scale, I have three large basins in front of me: one on the right with detergent and water at 114 degrees, a second to the left with lukewarm water and a third further left with "Quat-San", also at room temperature.  On the right of the first sink is a high powered spray nozel and a little sink with a garbage disposal below.  It is this contraption that greets me at 7:00 in the morning.  I fill the sinks up and get to work.  And, to be further cliche, it's a dirty job but someone's got to do it.

Every other weekend, I work "PPD" which stands for Pizza Pasta & Deli.  I've always been on deli so far which consists of making sandwiches Subway style and running to the back to get more of whatever we've run out of.  There is another individual that works with me (a different person each night) and one of the "higher ups" that floats around.  Together, we take people's sandwich (or wrap) orders and fill them to the best of our abilities.  When it get's really busy, we all stand at one part of the line and take care of a different part of the sandwich.

Both are fast paced positions but going from washing pans to making sandwiches is to completely change gears.  And speaking of gears...

On the last couple of my allotted drink breaks I made a point of standing in the dish room.  The dish room is right by the beverage dispensers near the front so people can put their dishes on the conveyer belt as they are leaving the cafeteria.  I stood in there in part to be away from the customers so as not to be perceived as slacking on the job but also observe a part of the Market Place that I haven't been trained on yet.  As sad I am not to hear that din of the printers, this new din...the one made by the people working together like a well oiled machine is nearly as sweet.

Although this semester is about half way over give or take, I am looking forward to seeing what this new experience will teach me.