The Neophyte

Here is the poem I mentioned in the previous post, the one inspired by the music I was listening to the night I first started writing it. After many edits and revisions, I think I've finally got it. The most recent version is the one you see below. I tried to incorporate the use of more concrete images to give the words a life and personality all their own. Hopefully, I accomplished that. 

That's where you come in, dear reader. 

If you're feeling up to it, I'd love to know what you think. Be as constructively critical as you want to be, as I'm thinking of submitting it to a student publication at my college by the end of this month. And now, without further ado...

“The Neophyte”

He thought himself a neophyte intellectual who lacked

The prerequisite pretension

Strumming his fingers through mental chords

Striking up a match,

Shaking jolts through dormant lords,

Inciting the vocal

Fuel of a generation

He played them all with his charisma,

Leaving them breathless,

Leaving them blinded,

Rapt by the rampant drumming and

Wondering after the true charlatan

He struck up a conversation

Summoning up his charm,

His weapon his gentle persuasion

As he blithely blew his game plans

Into the seamless curve of Gale’s ear,

Knowing full well that she’d leave him

Winded, shooting the breeze about

His wounds

Sunk beneath his psyche

She was half-tempted to grab the spade,

Twice-enticed to forge her verbal blade,

Deciding at last to pick up the scalpel

And knit her way through the fibers

Cloaking his core

Unwinding, testing out the theory of

How long until he cracks

And shows her she’s more

Than just a constellation in his rose-tinged sky

But she refrains, restrains

Chooses to smile and feign indifference

To his mad scheming

As her analytical wits crackle with

The spark that started it all,

The spoken verse that struck a chord

And cursed her with the scalding imprint of

His asymmetrical smile

Burned somewhere in the folds of her brain

And all she can think to say was DAMN IT.

Moving in the Middle of the Semester

Hello again.

Life has been crazy lately. For one thing, my family and I moved to a new apartment three blocks away. It's a little stressful right now trying to figure where all our belongings are located. Let me just say that proper labeling goes a long way. My parents didn't do a splendid job of it since the movers were already there taking our furniture out of our old apartment, so we couldn't find most of our stuff until we opened up random boxes and started unpacking things at the new place. It's a little further away from the subway, but I like our new street -- it's quiet enough and quaint enough that you can take a stroll through the neighborhood when you need to clear your head and think. Plus, it's only a block away from the laundromat, so weekend chores shouldn't be as difficult as it was before.

As for school... it's a struggle. Subjects are getting more difficult, and the course requirements are demanding. I have a group project and four research papers due by next month. I just hope I can still keep my head up from drowning in stress. Yet even through the all-nighters and the caffeine-infused study sessions, I'm still willing to embrace the challenges that the future may hold.

I haven't had much time to devote to my novel-writing because school and family has kept me busy, but I did write a poem late one night. It's amazing how music can inspire you to do something creative. While listening to my favorite stations on Pandora radio, I felt that all-too familiar itch to write. Words were rearranging themselves in my head, mixing themselves up with familiar lyrics, and creating new phrases I didn't ever want to forget. So I took another stab at writing a poem. It's a little different from my earlier stuff, but I'm glad that my writing is heading towards a new direction. I like to think it's progress.

I may have to read this book.

For now, I'm still reorganizing and figuring things out in my life. I'm not sure where I'm headed, or what I'm going to end up doing in the next five or ten years. I'm usually a meticulous (and okay, a somewhat neurotic) planner, but right now, it feels so good to just close my eyes and take a deep breath as I look out my new window at the calm autumn evening.

I kind of wish the rest of the country felt the same way. There's been a lot of unrest lately, what with the OWS movement going on in Manhattan and the upcoming presidential election next year. If only the world took a moment to stop spinning so fast... maybe people would see things with a better perspective instead of constantly taking sides in gray situations. There's always a side to every story; we cannot always presume to know everything. The best we can do is just, for once, learn to listen to each other and try to be understanding.

Of course, that's just the optimist in me talking. The pessimist in me just heaves a sigh and shakes her head. Oh well...

Until the next post, dear friends.

This is yours truly,
J.Day