Epics GALORE!

So, I was checking around the Internet looking for the earliest known poem. 'Twas not as easy as I thought it would be. First, there's tons of "firsts" in poetry writing, and many poems are hard to date considering they evolved orally and were finally written down hundreds of years later. After much searching, I decided on a bit of a compromise: the Epic of Gilgamesh (all Comparitive Civilizations students groan now).

The Epic of Gilgamesh is generally considered the first known epic to be recorded. Unfortunately, it was recorded on twelve stone tablets, some of which have been severley damaged, so the story is incomplete. As well, content of some of the tablets was altered or omitted for generations because of hints of a homosexual relationship between Gilgamesh and his companion Enkidu. However, in Gilgamesh's time, this sort of a relationship would not seem as strange as it did later, as sexual boundaries were more loosely defined than in later societies. The earliest written versions of the Epic were composed in 2100-2000 BCE in ancient Sumeria, 400 years after the reign of the real Gilgamesh. The Epic deals with many of his exploits, from his birth to his death.

I'm not going to post the whole thing...believe me, you wouldn't want me to. Unless you want to see the little scroll-thingy disappear...Here's a taste:

"Fame haunts the man who visits hell,
who lives to tell my entire tale identically.
So like a sage, a trickster or saint,
GILGAMESH was a hero who knew secrets and saw forbidden places,
who could even speak of the time before the Flood because he lived long,
learned much, and spoke his life to those who first cut into clay his bird-like words.
He commanded walls for Uruk and for Eanna,
our holy ground, walls that you can see still;
walls where weep the weary widows of dead soldiers.
Go to them and touch their immovable presence with gentle finger to find yourself.
No one else ever built such walls. Climb Uruk's Tower and walk about on a windy night.
Look. Touch. Taste. Sense. What force creates such mass?
Open up the special box that's hidden in the wall and read aloud the story of Gilgamesh's life.
Learn what sorrow taught him; learn of those he overcame by wit or force or fear as he,
a town's best child, acted nobly in the way one should to lead and acted wisely too as one who sought on fame."

Pretty nifty, eh? If you're interested in ancient cultures or literature, or even just like mythical stories, read the Epic of Gilgamesh. You'll see the parallels in many later stories written by other cultures. Especially interesting to some would be the mention of a great flood, and the character who Noah (the guy with the ark) is based off of. If you are more inclined to watch a video, go here: THE EPIC OF GILGAMESH. They made a handy little video that would have been so useful when I had to summarize this whole thing for Comp Civ.

This will be my last post on this blog, with my poetry assignment completed. I hope those who have read it enjoyed it, or at least found it an interesting diversion for a few seconds.

This is Anna, signing off.

Ciao.

Au revoir.

Farewell.

I just can't say good-bye...

Just joking.

Digging up old stuff

I was searching through some of my old work, looking for something worthy of posting and I came across this poem in my old visual journal, from back when I took art. I remember exactly when I did it as well. We were assigned a project that had to do with remembrance and Remembrance Day. I was working on my own assignment when Vincent came over and gave me the first line to a poem he was trying to write: "When peace has come..." He was trying to figure out what would rhyme with come (if he had used the wonderful rhyme generator he wouldn't have had that problem now would he...) and he handed it over to me. I sat and wrote a whole poem in his visual journal, and I liked it so much I copied it into my own.

Untitled

When peace has come
the rise of the sum
of the dead we mourn
will haunt us.

Between the graves
our families rave
about the ideals
that took us.

Near as we seem,
we followed a dream
that empowered
then destroyed us.

Listen; take heed
do not fill with need
to go to a war like the one
that stole us.

"The idea that we are right,
is no more than a reason to show might.
No one deserves,
no one has earned
a right to be destroyed."

"Do not die for men who do not know the stupidity of what they are doing."

Just for interest's sake: list of global conflicts.

I looked up info on current global conflicts and found this list on a US military website. It's a tad biased, but what list about this issue wouldn't be...Anyways, did anyone else know that the US and the Phillipines have been in a conflict since 1898?

poetry and toast

Just to start off this post on a lighter note....If you're online and feeling bored or you're writing a rhyming poem and just cannot find the right word, go here. It's a rhyme generator! Great fun. I typed in happy and look what it came up with:

2 syllables: cappy, chappie, crappy, mapi, nappi, sappy, scrappy, slappy, snappy, tapie
3 syllables: black crappie, unhappy, white crappie

Great fun, eh? So if you want hours (or minutes) of mindless, pointless entertainment-of-the-word-kind, go there and type to your heart's content.

I was checking out Ian's blog (the link is down on your right-hand sidebar) and he raised a really good point about common images and themes that run throughout the poetry world, his example being the link between sleep and death. So, if you think up something, go and post a comment on his blog, and we might actually be able to get a discussion going.

While doing some more internet searching, I came across this website:Poetry 180. It's a program sponsored by the Library of Congress in the United States trying to expose high school students to the world of poetry by having them read a poem a day for the approximately 180 day school year. I think that this program is a great idea in that it encourages students to read and explore a side of the literary world they may not realize is there, besides Shakespeare, Longfellow and "old" poets. On the other hand, it speaks to a declining literacy rate among the young population as more youth read magazines and MSN messages instead of actual books and poetry.

There's a list of all 180 poems on the website and I picked out the one I liked the best:

Love Poem With Toast -Miller Williams

Some of what we do, we do
to make things happen,
the alarm to wake us up, the coffee to perc,
the car to start.

The rest of what we do, we do
trying to keep something from doing something,
the skin from aging, the hoe from rusting,
the truth from getting out.

With yes and no like the poles of a battery
powering our passage through the days,
we move, as we call it, forward,
wanting to be wanted,
wanting not to lose the rain forest,
wanting the water to boil,
wanting not to have cancer,
wanting to be home by dark,
wanting not to run out of gas,

as each of us wants the other
watching at the end,
as both want not to leave the other alone,
as wanting to love beyond this meat and bone,
we gaze across breakfast and pretend.

I think this poem paints a great picture of modern day life, with all its paradoxes and idiosyncrasies; it puts in to words the many wants of the "me" generation that are fueling modern society, with all its excesses.

Hey look! TOAST!

Songs as poetry

Modern day poetry offers much more latitude for writers than in other times. For much of history, poetry forms were set in stone (ex. yummy iambic pentameter or haiku), elsewise the writing was considered vulgur and not worthy of notice. Poets have fought against this for generations and have finally succeeded with the "Modern" movement in late 19th/early 20th century. As a result, poetry nowadays is composed in hundreds of different styles, in any way the author feels like. However, for as much good poetry that is produced there is a fair share that can leave readers bewildered and lost. My favourite example being (and I paraphrase):

black fly

wings

macaroni and blood

Didn't that just touch you? Isn't it wonderful?! (If you said yes, please exit now.) For me, much of the best modern "poetry" is actually song lyrics. Songwriting and poetry writing are closely linked artforms, and at different times, were almost interchangeable, with songs being read aloud as poems, and poetry set to songs.

link to streamload

You know the drill. Same username and password as before, except click on Bright Eyes this time, and the only option is to download. Just say "Open" when the little web dialogue page pops up.

This song is by Bright Eyes called Take It Easy (Love Nothing). It's a depressing song if you listen to the lyrics. It shows the effect of one sexual experience on a boy's life. He esentially gets told by a girl that he wasn't good enough for her and so afterwards, he never lets any other woman get close to him so he can never be hurt like that again. He builds a wall around himself; he can never fulfill anyone else, nor will he ever be fulfilled. With one stupid, insensitive action, the girl forever changed the life of her lover.

Conner Oberst, lead singer/founder/everything in Bright Eyes

Lyrics to Take It Easy (Love Nothing)

First with your hands, then with your mouth

A downpour of sweat, damp cotton clouds

I was a fool, you were my friend

We made it happen

You took off your clothes, left on the light

You stood there so brave, you used to be shy

Each feature improved, each movement refined

And eyes like a showroom

Now they are spreading out the blankets on the beach

That weatherman' s a liar, he said it would be raining

But it's clear and blue as far as I can see

Left by the lamp, right next to the bed

On a cartoon cat pad she scratched with a pen

"Everything is as it's always been

This never happened"

"Don't take it so bad, it's nothing you did

It's just once something dies, you can't make it live

You're a beautiful boy, you're a sweet little kid

But I am a woman"

So I laid back down and wrapped myself up in the sheet

And I must have looked like a ghost, cause something frightened me

And since then I've been so good at vanishing

Now I do as I please, and I lie through my teeth

Someone might get hurt, but it won't be me

I should probably feel cheap, but I just feel free

And a little bit empty

No it isn't so hard to get close to me

There will be no arguments, we will always agree

And I will try and be kind when I ask you to leave

We will both take it easy

But if you stay too long inside my memory

I will trap you in a song tied to a melody

And I'll keep you there so you can't bother me

Tell me if these music things are working out. I don't want to be sending you guys nowhere.

Queen Elizabeth = Shakespeare...NO

Untitled by Queen Elizabeth I (1533-1603)

The doubt of future foes exiles my present joy,
And wit me warns to shun such snares as threaten mine annoy;
For falsehood now doth flow, and subjects' faith doth ebb,
Which should not be if reason ruled or wisdom weaved the web.
But clouds of joys untried do cloak aspiring minds,
Which turn to rain of late repent by changed course of winds.
The top of hope supposed the root upreared shall be,
And fruitless all their grafted guile, as shortly ye shall see.
The dazzled eyes with pride, which great ambition blinds,
Shall be unsealed by worthy wights whose foresight falsehood finds.
The daughter of debate that discord aye doth sow
Shall reap no gain where former rule still peace hath taught to know.
No foreign banished wight shall anchor in this port;
Our realm brooks not seditious sects, let them elsewhere resort.
My rusty sword through rest shall first his edge employ
To poll their tops that seek such change or gape for future joy.

I was just searching the internet for poetry, and stumbled on this website: poetry.com (what're the odds?). Anyways, they have a listing of the top 100 poems of all time. Much to my surprise, the first poem on the list was the above, by Queen Elizabeth I (side note: remember To a Mouse by good ol' Robbie Burns? It's on there, too.). I never knew that she wrote any poetry, although it does make sense considering there are people out there that think that she was the one who actually wrote all of Shakespeare's plays. What surprised me even more is how well-written and honest it was. I don't know about you, but I'm not so sure I'd want to hear all of Prince Charles' wonderful thoughts. Not so much. I felt like that poem illustrated her character in a way that no painting or historical record could come close to. It's her personal thoughts, which is almost uncomfortable, considering those thoughts are coming from such a prominent historical figure.

Her resolve (or arrogance) is quite evident with her proclamations that no spies will rest on her shores and that she will triumph over those that would sow discontent and revolt among her people. However, its sad to hear her say that, as monarch, the happiness of her people and kingdom comes before her own and as she must worry about not only current problems but future possibilities, she will never be truly content.

Maybe other important people should do this as well to keep a personal record that can be read by generations after they're gone. NO Britney Spears, you're not important. STOP PUBLISHING "POETRY."

The Highwayman

link to The Highwayman, by Alfred Noyes

The Highwayman is an gorgeous, moving poem about two "star-crossed lovers," ending in sacrifice and tragedy. It's one of the most beloved poems in English literature, and is widely known throughout the world today. Unfortunately for Alfred Noyes, it's probably his only extremely well-known poem, although most of his other poetry is written in the same form, and he even undertook a 12 book epic when he was young. Noyes' poems were generally meant to be read aloud dramatically; sometimes, it was by one person, or by a company. For us today, that sort of reading may seem hard to understand, and can conjure up images of beatniks swaying to bongo beats, wearing dark sunglasses and berets. Nowadays, it may seem more accessible to hear such dramatic poetry through song. The Highwayman was arranged to music in 1997 by Loreena McKinnet on her CD, The Book of Secrets. I've posted a link here to an account where I'm hosting the song if you want to hear it. To me, McKinnet captured the haunting, ghostly qualities of the poem and translated them perfectly to song. It's also through the use of dynamics and different instruments that she is able to lend a more dramatic quality to the song that the poem requires, without seeming hokey or corny like a bad live reading can be.

link to streamload

You'll see the login info bars. In the Username bar, type in: crackaddictllama. In the Password bar, type in: aragorn. Then click the open icon for O5 The Highwayman.wma; finally, press play and enjoy!

Please do not abuse my account. I trust you guys not to, but I'm using it only to host this file so you guys can listen to this song if you want to. If anyone else wants to host a song, FOR THIS PROJECT ONLY, talk to me and I'll give you permission. If someone does misuse my account, I will shut it down.

Historical Note: Real highwaymen did exist in many countries at various times. Many believe that Noyes based his highwayman off English robber John Nevison, a young noble during the Restoration who took to robbing travellers both in his native country and abroad. Much of the money he stole he gave to the poor (Robin Hood, anyone?). An inn girl features in his life, too. However, she did not die for him. Nope. She was the one who turned him in.

My own poetry...do I really want to post this stuff? Sure.

Late Night Musing

Why does nothing change?
History repeats itself they say
or maybe history is only
a string of half-obscured truths
strung together to justify
or condemn the things we do today.

How is it that in an age of change,
behaviour remains trapped in a cycle,
faults outweighing goodness for split seconds,
causing ripples throughout the globe?

Does no one change?

Are our courses set at birth by God,
Fate,
human nature,
cosmic powers?

Or can we change the direction,
push ourselves forward beyond the control of other forces?
However, control may be another
morsel of comfort we cling to for sanity.

Can we save ourselves?



I got this picture from this creepy website about the American Armed Forces: http://www.defenselink.mil/afis/editors/lineart_march.html. Don't ask me why it was on there; I have no idea, I just liked the picture.

Anywho, as the title suggests, I wrote this very late at night and you might think it's wonderful, horrible, or needs improvement....Feel free to comment, submit suggestions, generally just speak your mind about it. Don't worry, I won't hurt you. I promise. Really.