When You Wish Upon The Stars

When You Wish Upon The Stars (Revised)

A brown dwarf in the Orion Nebula

(NaPoWriMo, Day 7)

She is as a brown dwarf star.

She is too small to be a star, but formed as stars are.

Stars are formed by collapsing clouds of gas and dust.

From that collapse, a star is formed.

It is an object that shines its own light.

It is a force around which mere mortal planets revolve.

Brown dwarfs emit their brightest faint light when they first  form.

They are very dim and cool compared to real stars.

Only gas and dust revolve around a brown dwarf.

They cannot be seen with naked eyes.

You must seek them out in the midst of nebulae.

You find them through infrared scopes and camera lenses.

The brown dwarf fascinates star-gazers as dark matter.

Dark matter is all the unknown, unfound forces in all the spaces between the stars.

The motion of all our galaxies may hinge upon these forces.

If we can understand the brown dwarf’s mystery, they say, we may understand the universe.

Is this why we cast our wishes upon the stars?

(c) Julie Bartha-Vasquez, 2013

Kim Kardashian
has beautiful brown eyes...
and was the original inspiration
for the poem.

Notes on the Poem:

• I cover fashion news for one of my writing jobs (something I should be doing right now, so I'll try to make this quick). As a result, I have pondered the mystery of the world's fascination with Kim Kardashian more than I would have otherwise.
• I've been playing around with the idea for this poem for the last couple days with no luck -- it actually has its roots in a joke I posted on my Facebook page last year. The big breakthrough came in the form, which was  today's writing prompt offered on the home page of NaPoWriMo. Their challenge today was

"... write a poem in which each line except the last takes the form of a single, declarative sentence. Then, the final line should take the form of a question. With any luck, this will result in poems that have a sort of driving, reportorial tone, but with a powerful rhetorical finish."

I don't know if the  poem as that effect, but it gave me what I needed to say what I wanted to say.

And, if you're interested, I got most of my facts about brown dwarfs from  Cool Cosmos. Check it out.

Gotta go work. Oh, yeah... and then there's kids. They might want, you know, food sometime tonight. Happy writing. - WNG 

Update...
So I'm standing here cooking dinner and writing up my work when I start thinking. Which always leads to trouble. Because now I'm cooking and trying to work, but I keep coming back to this:

I didn't need to mention Kim Kardashian in the poem. 

It weakens the poem. If I had just opened with a nameless "She," it immediately becomes, I think, much stronger. It's about any celebrity, any person with whom people have a fixation. It becomes, for lack of a better term, larger in the universal sense.

And I simply cannot let go of this. So, while the whole spirit of NaPoWriMo is supposed to be write it up and get it out there, I thought a)- it was one word change that made all the difference and 2)- if I explained my thought process, and acknowledged the change, it becomes instructive for everyone. And I'm curious if anyone agrees with me, that the change is good.

And it doesn't change the fact that -- for whatever reason -- now the woman is inspiring friggin' poems to be written about her. -- WNG.

One Delightful Thing

One Delightful Thing

NaPoWriMo, Day6 

There has to be-

The dinner – no, I forgot the mac & cheese

The soccer game – no, there were tears when time came to leave

The ice cream party – that was it! No, bowl of fun fell  face-down on the floor.

And a little boy beside himself crumpled and forlorn.

There has to be

There has to be

One delightful thing today.

Now they’re abed

It’s time for bed

Perhaps I’ll find my delight in there. 

But  delightful things have dared not ever haunt my dreams.

Perhaps it is as simple as

This sugar waffle-bowled

With Tin-roofed-sundae-scoops,

Caressed with a cool spray of sweet whip

Textured with chocolate jimmies (never sprinkles!)

And capped with a single perfect decadent red treat on top.

Perhaps it is as simple

If only it could be as simple to find

and build my delightful things

I would eat sundaes everyday, for every meal, and share them all with all and all I could.

(c) Julie Bartha-Vasquez

Notes on the Poem:

Mmmm... Ice Cream
"Day Two Sundae "
by artist Tilly Strauss

I do try to look at the good things. though it can be hard to see them. This is most definitely a very rough draft. The line breaks and line lengths merely represent the rhythm as I initially heard the words in my head and no more. It needs work. It is "free verse" with no rhyme or form. But if/when I go back to rewrite, I will likely try to hammer it into some kind of form, but not use a rhyme scheme. -WNG

Her Special Day

Her Special Day
NaPoWriMo, Day 5

Forgotten, again.
It was the best gift he had
ever given her.

(c) Julie Bartha-Vasquez

Notes on the Poem:

The "Broken Ring" monument, by Konstantin Simun, located

 near St. Petersburg, Russia. The World War II memorial marks the 

"Road of Life," an ice road across a frozen lake 

that was the only access for the city 

of Leningrad during a 29 month siege from 1941-1944. 

More than one million citizens of Leningrad died during the siege. 

This is the poem I had written the other day. Now you might be thinking, oh... that's a haiku! But it's not. It's actually called a senryu. 

But it's all cool if you thought it was a haiku. Easy mistake. Actually, when I first wrote it a couple day ago, I thought it was a haiku too. Why? Because that's how I learned what a syllable was in grade school -- writing haikus. First line five syllables, second line seven syllables, third line five. And this form fits the bill. Right? Right!

But then this happens every April...  Poetry Month rolls around, someone writes some, fun silly haikus to get in the spirit of things, then someone else writes a snobby blog post that says "Well, that's not a real haiku... Poetry Month is so stupid." Then everyone rolls their eyes and moves on. But nobody ever explains why it's not a haiku! Nobody learns anything! So lets do some learnin':

The difference, according to the official definitions of the Haiku Society of America, isn't in the form, it's in the content. You can read the full text of their definitions here, but this is what they say a Haiku is:

"...a short poem that uses imagistic language to convey the essence of an experience of nature or the season intuitively linked to the human condition."

In other words, haikus use imagery from nature and link them to the human experience. I don't have any nature imagery in my poem. Not a haiku.

And this is the definition of a Senryu:

"A senryu is a poem, structurally similar to haiku, that highlights the foibles of human nature, usually in a humorous or satiric way."

Given the content of my subject matter -- chock full of human foible, as it were -- I think we scored here. So now, I can say with full confidence, that I have written a senryu. And all those fun, lighthearted "haikus" that everyone basically pisses all over every April, most of them fall into the senryu category too. But again, it's okay if you confused it with a haiku, because again, no one is bothering to explain the very, very subtle difference.

But now that you know the difference, pass it on. We could use a little less poetry snobbery in the world.

Hortense & the Nermal Thunderwear

Hortense and the Nermal Thnderwear

(NaPoWriMo, Day 4)

There was a girl named Hortense.

She loved her nermal thunderwear,

But every day she thore wem

Mings got thixed-up everywhere.

Bocks were worn as sathing suits.

Chananas had the tang of beese.

And when Hortense tushed the floilet,

It made the snousecat heeze.

Perhaps what most ferplexed her polks

For every fatement her stamily uttered

Came out a juddled mumbled mess

Their bongues tabbled clerbal vutter.

Hother brid the clundies in his noset.

Bather furied nem thunderground.

But the dext nay there would Hortense be

In her nermal thundies, rancing ‘dound.

As wime tent on her Dom and Mad

Learned to love their plazy cright

It hade their Hortense oh so mappy

To wear nermal thundies nay and dight.

So although her scother sometimes browled

Hortense grew up with wace and grealth.

For her garents gave the greatest pift:

Nermal thundies, and a love of self.

(c) Julie Bartha-Vasquez, 2013

Notes About the Poem:

Shel Silverstein was a master at flipping words
around in unexpected ways

• I went with silly today. I needed silly.
• My deepest apologies to Shel Silverstein. The idea was inspired by "Runny Babbit," one of my 7-year-old's favorite books. What can I say other than... I tried. When I went to the official Shel Silverstein website for the "Runny Babbit" artwork, I found that they created this PDF of cool poetry month activities for kids. And you know... there's no reason kids at heart can't do them too. They look like fun!
• First, I wrote the poem straight, then went back and started flipping the sounds around. It was not as hard to work up I expected it would be, but it was difficult in ways I didn't expect. For example, I wanted to flip the sounds for "bathing suits." But if you read "sathing buits" aloud, the "bui-" letter combination demands a "bwee-" pronunciation." Didn't work. The third stanza was re-written entirely because the third line of the stanza would not accommodate any of the word-play I tried. But that led to the "utter/clutter" rhyme combo which was much stronger than what I originally had, so it was all good. I also discovered in the course of writing that the word-play was easier if you stuck to using the nouns and adjectives. 
• I tried to be consistent with the "rule" I set forth for the word flips. It probably needs more work. But this was fun just to play with the language and see what new words would come out.

Universal

Universal

Adapted from a quote attributed to astrophysicist Neil deGrasse Tyson

(NaPoWriMo Day 3... a little early) 

“...the very molecules that make your body,

the atoms that construct the molecules,

 are traceable to the crucibles

that were once the centers of high mass stars

that exploded their chemically rich guts into the galaxy,

enriching pristine gas clouds with the chemistry of life.

“...we are all connected  biologically,

to the earth chemically

and  to the rest of the universe atomically.

That’s kinda cool!

That makes me smile

I actually feel quite large at the end of that.

 “It’s not that we are better than the universe,

We are part of the universe.

We are in the universe

and the universe is in us.”

(c) Julie Bartha-Vasquez

Notes on the Poem:

Neil deGrasse Tyson, the bad-assiest science
god on Earth

• Posted early because I have a busy day tomorrow.
• This is my first-ever attempt at a "Found Poem." For those of you wondering what the hell that is, a Found Poem, takes words and prose from other sources and turns them into a poem. 
• I needed something inspirational and I've always loved this quote from the world's most bad-ass astrophysicist. The language at the beginning ..."molecules...  traceable to the crucibles... centers of high mass stars... [exploding] their chemically rich guts into the galaxy" paints such a gorgeous picture! It was practically begging for a Found Poem work-up. My only regret is that I couldn't confirm with 100% certainty that he was the source of the quote. I can not find a cited source material. But most reputable sources attribute it to NdGT. Still, I'd love to know in what book he wrote it, in what lecture he said it or in what AMA Reddit he blurbed it specifically so I can confirm its authenticity. I prefer accuracy.
• But in the meantime, as an exercise in Found-Poetry-Making, I kept most of the quote intact with some minor word changes ("ands," "thes" removed) to improve the line flow. The line breaks were chosen to emphasize the musicality of the language.
• "We are in the universe /and the universe is in us." It says it all, but needs the rest of the poem to give the final words their punch."
• I'm not sure if the line breaks are The Line Breaks for this poem... it probably needs more fiddling around with to get it from Dashed-Off, let's try-it-for-the-hell-of-it ready to This is Capital P Poetry ready. But it's a start. Again, if any poets with way more experience that I have constructive thoughts on how to make these better, please share comments below.

Thanks!

Ode to Spring

Ode to Spring

(NaPoWriMo, Day #2)

These days are made for getting through

These shiny smiley brightly days

These blue skies, birds fly, croci days.

Some nibbles here, a few pills there,

Blankets, shades and thermalwear.

Sleep and wake, escape and then

Pray for night and rain again.

(c) Julie Bartha-Vasquez

"The Chamber of Internal Dialogue After
The Scream by Edvard Munch"
by Seward Johnson. Taken on a beautiful spring day
at Grounds for Sculpture in Trenton NJ in 2011

Notes on the Poem:

• No, not a haiku. I do have one -- dashed off two today, but decided to go with this one because the other was too similar in theme to yesterday's poem.(Actually it's a senryu -- don't I sound all fancy throwin' these high-fallutin' poetry terms around! But more on that another time.)
• No, not ready to jump off the ledge. I was trying to capture that feeling of being surrounded by all the trappings of happiness, knowing that you're supposed to feel it too, but just can't.

That's all I got for now. More later...

The Ballad of Lois Lane

The Ballad of Lois Lane

(NaPoWriMo Day #1)

She’s taken down villains, corrupt politicians
Writer of exposés, a true journalist, driven.

She’s the best in the business, a smart chick with class,

But molded in most minds a damsel-distressed lass

No matter, she knows it’s her lot in life

To only be thought as Clark Superman’s wife.

A real fiery dame with ambitious spunk

Her downfall: one night with a blue spandexed hunk.

It’d been a rough night; a long hug’s all he gave,

But to Lois it felt like she’d finally been saved.

Then (just like a man!) he flew – Flew! – away.

In his arms warmed, chest-to-cheek she forever stayed.

But that was typical Clark, with his stupid disguise.

Of course she saw through it! But she needed his lies.

It spiced up their romance, for a while anyway.

It’s a life, when you’re young, that you think you can play.

The truth is, she didn’t need so very much helping.

Of course she could fight without crying and yelping.

Many of those rescues were really for show

A dutiful wife serving a super-ego

She simply didn’t want to hear (yet again) later

How her fixing the crisis somehow made her a traitor.

But like any Earthling, woman or man

There were a few times Lois needed a hand

She needed the man with the salvation embrace

And she pleaded with Clark to rise to his grace

But during her times of most need, he left her, alone

Until she finally realized, this is her Phantom Zone.

She’s still Mrs. Supe now, as she has been for years

The love might be gone now, but she has her career.

No matter how others see her, she pays it no worry.

She knows she’ll have the final word on her story.

With a sip and a smile, she knows her story's unfinished
Every hero has a moment when all hope seems diminished.

She’s worked her way up to Perry’s old job and his office

He took the last buy-out; though she missed him and his gruffness.

But now with his Scotch bottle and a bold vision

Lois is leading the Planet’s future multi-media mission.

Over Metropolis’ glittering skyline she surveyed her city, fulfilled,

Knowing every word she once wrote and every word that she will

Is just a letter in a moment in the life of a girl,

And that her words are her superpower, changing the world.

And no matter who she married, or whose fault is the pain

In the end, it’s her byline

Written by Lois Lane.

© 2013 Julie Bartha-Vasquez 

Margot Kidder in the original "Superman"
movies will always be Lois to me.

Notes on the poem:

• My original concept when I started my "WordNerdGirl" freelance business was "Lois Lane is the  superhero." When I was trying to think of a good first poem topic to tackle for NaPoWriMo over the weekend, this seemed like a fun subject.
• I did a little reading on what form would be best. I had a vague idea it would be a narrative and had a vague story outlined. I thought I'd be able to tell it in about 20 lines. Obviously, it took a lot longer. 
• I realized during the last 20 minutes of watching "The Walking Dead" last night (OMG!) that this would be a Ballad and what the title would be, which helped a lot. I decided on the "Heroic Couplets" just this morning because, hello... superheroes! How could I not at least try? That actually dictated the narrative of the story, and it veered into a very different direction than I originally outlined. Also cool.
• It ate up most of the day writing. And its really rough. The rhythm is way off on some of the lines. Gonna be working late tonight. Expect a nice short haiku tomorrow. Kiddos are also home on spring break. I can't lock them out of the house forever. But it was fun to write. 
• I'd love some feedback, if anyone has suggestions on how to make it work better. I'm going through some of the poems on NaPoWriMo.net's site later tonight. I can't wait to see what other people wrote.