I just woke up from a 2.5 hour nap. I can't believe I slept that long, but I was so worn out. I feel groggy, but still good from resting up. I had another crazy week that flew by before I could blog about it. My Wednesday and Thursday were the most challenging, but it was such a relief when they were over. Wednesday I had to give the second out of my three big speeches for my speech class. It is comforting to know I only have to give one more. Unfortunately, I thought I would feel so much relief when it was over, but as soon as I sat back down in my chair when I finished, I felt anxious again, only, about the Shakespeare exam, Geology quiz, and essay I had the next day. It was like I didn't have time to stress about them until I got my speech out of the way. I returned from speech class at quarter to five where I had to eat a fast dinner and take off for my World Peace Initiative meeting at 515. I still had not received my Nikki Giovanni poetry book in the mail, and I was going straight to the auditorium to see her after WPI, because it is located near where WPI meets and I wanted to get there an hour early to get a good seat. I checked the mail at 5:15 and it was not in yet, so I disappointedly went to the meeting.

When I was in line to get a seat, I called my roommate, Gabby, who informed me I had a package in the mail. I was so disappointed, but I figured, "She's so big that she probably won't even sign books anyway." Before she came out they announced that she would sign books afterward. My heart dropped. Her speech was amazing. She is this tiny 64-year-old woman who is incredibly sassy. My professor referred to her as a little fire ball. Hearing her read her poetry was incredible."It's always ten times better to hear the poet read their poems in person that to read them yourself," that was my quote in the NewsPaper about the last poet who came to Central. It is true though. Nikkie Giovanni's poetry flows so smoothly and the way she uses sounds is wonderful. It is so smooth, it is almost like she is rapping. During question and answer time I left my backpack with Beth and sprinted back to my dorm. I made it to my dorm, where I signed for my package, and back to the auditorium in less than twenty minutes...and it's normally a 15 minute walk one way. I didn't even open the package. I came sprinting into the auditorium with the package in hand. She was just finishing answering questions so I slowly opened the package trying not to be noisy, but I was able to get in line by my writing professor and I got the book signed. It's exciting to have such a well-known poet sign my book and put my name in it. She has won countless awards and known so many incredible people. She was friends with Rosa Parks for 20 years and wrote a book about her/with her. She talked about Gwendelyn Brooks, and all of these other literary or civil rights people. I had to stay up that night studying for Shakespeare. My lungs still burned from running in the cold, and my ankles and back are still sore today. I was wearing these huge Sketcher shoes and khakis when I made the long dramatic run, because I had not had time to change out of my nice clothes from speech. It makes for a funny story--sprinting across campus on a cold night with a package in my hand all to get a book signed. It was totally worth it though. It was such an honor to meet her. She is probably one of the most influential living poets.

Thursday my Shakespeare exam went better than I expected, which is good, because I have been doing poorly on the quizzes in there. The quizzes are all multiple choice, and the exam was a lot of short answer and it had a 45 pt. essay question. I hope I did decent to help bring my grade up a bit. I was able to get my essay done in time for my 12:30 class, but I did fail my Geology quiz so that was disappointing. From there I had to go get my speech and hearing tested at the Health professions building for my speech class. The line to get in took forever. I then had my meeting for the Geology club, dinner, and a study session for speech. It made for a long day that was such a relief to be done with. I was worn out from the week, but I stayed up until three talking to my friend Dashon on the phone. He is such a great guy, but is having a tough time again, which breaks my heart because he doesn't deserve it. I then woke up early to get my writing around for my one on one conference I had this morning with my writing professor. It went so well. It was exactly what I needed to pick my spirits up and give me energy to write more. She was pretty tough on my last essay I turned in. She said she didn't want me to be upset, but that she did it because she thought I could handle it and that it's a good essay so she wants to push me. I'm glad she thinks I can handle it, because that takes practice and is a skill I attribute to writers group. I hadn't been upset about it at all. There is always that initial reaction when I get a lot of feedback where I feel crappy, and think, "man, there's so much work to do. Is it even worth fixing up?" but then I reflect and realize the reader is right. She saw so many things in the essay I hadn't even noticed and gave me some great ideas for expansion and implying metaphorical meaning. It is so nice that she requires us all to have this one personal conference with her, because that takes up a lot of her time. I was there for forty minutes and the whole time it was just talking about MY writing. How cool is that? I got to have a professional writer sit down for forty minutes with me and just go over a bunch of my writing. I feel pretty lucky to have such successful, yet accessible professors. I showed her this poem I had written playing around with these tetrameters we learned about in class, which is when each line is four syllables. I had thought about scrapping it, but she was really supportive and gave me some great ideas to save it. I also showed her this poem I found from last year that is a concrete one. I asked her if it was something I could save for my portfolio, and she looked at it and liked it. She said she has only liked one concrete poem ever, so that it was a huge compliment that she liked mine.

The sun was shining brightly when I left the conference so I felt like I could write anything. It is so rare that I get those bursts of confidence about writing, so I really appreciated feeling so good about my writing. Anne Lamott writes about how writing makes us all jealous and I go as far to say as it makes me regress to middle school where all of the self-consciousness and jealousy that I have grown better at dealing with as I age, returns. It is nice to have moments where I feel like all of the hard work and time I feel I "waste" on writing is worth it. Self-confidence is good.

Tomorrow I am going to lunch with my soccer coach from high school and family friends who will be in town for a coaches conference. I have an intense weekend of studying and homework in front of me, so I am looking forward to having some time to relax with some people from my past. Sometimes it feels like I have two different lives so when people from my home-life visit here it is always a nice blend of the two. Tonight I am going to a improv comedy musical with Beth and possibly my roommate Gabby. I hope to wake up early to work out tomorrow and do some homework. Next week is going to be another intense one, but next Saturday I leave for out West! I am looking forward to a week of hiking and beautiful scenery. A birthday will be nice too :)

The Morning After St. Patrick's Day

in bed
head
spinnin'
stomach
turnin'

grab phone
dial dad
gotta pay 

for drugs 

again

Nikki Giovanni

I was incredibly excited to learn that Nikki Giovanni, the poet, will be here on Wednesday. We just read a poem of hers in class, and my professor said, "She's really good. I've heard her read several times." She also explained that she was the writing professor of the boy who did the shootings at Virginia Tech. I guess, she was on TV a lot for that. She was a big Civil Rights poet and has tremendous respect in the writing community. I couldn't figure out where I had heard of her, and today I figured out it was in a Kanye West song. I'm listening to it right now. It's the song about his Mom called, "Hey Mama." He says, "You're like a book of poetry/ Mya Angelou/Nikki Giovanni/turn the one page and there's my Mommy." I hadn't listened to the song in a long time, and out of nowhere it hit me that was the reason I knew her name. I just ordered a small book of her recent poems on-line. I heard her old poems from the 60's are pretty racy. I thought about getting those, but just in case she is willing to sign books I wanted to have the latest one. Not to mention, there is a lot more references that I know. I hope it comes before Wednesday. I would have got the two-day shipping, but it cost twice as much as the actual book, so I just got the regular and decided to cross my fingers. It's going to be a big crowd, because she appeals to so many different people. I don't even know if she will sign books, but I want to have one just in case. I am copying a few of her poems to give you an idea of her style. The first one is the one we looked at in class:

Legacies

her grandmother called her from the playground
"yes, ma'am"
"i want chu to learn how to make rolls" said the old
woman proudly
but the little girl didn't want
to learn how because she knew
even if she couldn't say it that
that would mean when the old one died she would be less
dependent on her spirit so
she said
"i don't want to know how to make no rolls"
with her lips poked out
and the old woman wiped her hands on
her apron saying "lord
these children"
and neither of them ever
said what they meant
and i guess nobody ever does

************************************

I Wrote A Good Omelet



I wrote a good omelet...and ate a hot poem...
after loving you

Buttoned my car...and drove my coat home...in the
rain...
after loving you

I goed on red...and stopped on green....floating
somewhere in between...
being here and being there...
after loving you

I rolled my bed...turned down my hair...slightly
confused but...I don't care...
Laid out my teeth...and gargled my gown...then I stood
...and laid me down...
to sleep...
after loving you
*****************************************

Alone


i can be
alone by myself
i was
lonely alone
now i'm lonely
with you
something is wrong
there are flies
everywhere
i go
*********************************
For Saundra


i wanted to write
a poem
that rhymes
but revolution doesn't lend
itself to be-bopping

then my neighbor
who thinks i hate
asked – do you ever write
tree poems – i like trees
so i thought
i'll write a beautiful green tree poem
peeked from my window
to check the image
noticed that the school yard was covered
with asphalt
no green – no trees grow
in manhattan

then, well, i thought the sky
i'll do a big blue sky poem
but all the clouds have winged
low since no-Dick was elected

so i thought again
and it occurred to me
maybe i shouldn't write
at all
but clean my gun
and check my kerosene supply

perhaps these are not poetic
times
at all

The Bathroom Sink

The bathroom sink
reawakens
tired blood shot eyes
and
drinks spat toothpaste.
It burns hands that
act for absent
minds.

The white porcelain’s
tinged with filth from
the past; it shines
when
toxins wash the
scum down the drain,
but by morning
the
goodness is gone
and all that’s left
is the struggle

to shine again