Winter Term Hiatus... oh, and some poems

On January 17, I sadly was required to leave Berkeley and return to my lovely home in Marin County, as my brother's roommates arrived and were rather surprised to find a random 19-year old girl on their couch. After all the excitement of my first semester at Oberlin, going home was a bit of a letdown, but coming back from Berkeley with still roughly three weeks until returning really put me in the dumps. Even my adorable dogs couldn't help, because they were usually soaking wet in the rain, which just finally stopped after about two weeks. Funny, because usually when I tell Oberlin kids where I'm from, they say, "Oh, so it'll be good to have some sun over break when we're freezing over here in Ohio/New Jersey/Connecticut/Michigan/Illinois." WELL, how does 42 degrees and rainy everyday sound? Well, for the sensitive writerly type, must admit, it can get depressing. And as most would realize, rain + boredom does not exactly equal inspiration. Hence, I've been kind of slacking off. I did read (okay, skim) a book called Berkeley at War: The 1960s and watch a movie about Berkeley in the 60s, in hopes of maybe writing a story about the hippies and the new Left and free speech debacle. But, funnily enough, what inspired me more was a TV show my family and I used to watch when I was in middle school, that finally, after five years, my brother was able to download online. The show is called "American Dreams," and it ran from 2002-2004. It takes place in Philadelphia, but it also takes place in, that's right... the turbulent 60s! Many of the plot lines are about old vs. new ideas about liberalism, race, relationships, politics, the Vietnam war, etc etc. However, I feel like so much about the 60s has already been said, and I'm struggling to find a new angle.


In the 1960's, a buncha dirty hippies advocated sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll. DIDJA KNOW THAT?? (Not a new angle.)

Though the part of my project about the 1991 Berkeley/Oakland fires was supposed to be done when I finished "The Fifth Book of Peace," I've somehow managed to not write my fire story. I wrote a draft a while back, but it wasn't going anywhere. I was finally able to interview my mom's friend, Priscilla, whose house burned down in the fire, and so I am currently, finally, writing the story. I'll hopefully have that done by the time I head over to Oberlin (I'm flying there in 6 days!! YAY!) and will post it here. But I have been working on some poems inspired by the poetry walk, and so I spose I'll paste those in. I'm not much of a poetry person, but I gave it the ol' college try. Get it?? Cuz I'm in college?? Okay, yeah, I know. I know.

1. Inspired by “Corrido Blanco” by Alfred Arteaga

You are born, little word, mine
into a harsh world.
You are born, my little word
into a world that bubbles in excess
of you, that still cannot decide what it wants to say –

You are born to be preceded by I, accompanied by but
phrased with finality.
You are born with emphasis that’s lowercase,
into tired grocery lists and get-well-soon cards.
You have the power of hurt, or the power of inspiration;
but you have not the power to kill.

Little word, you sacrifice yourself to misuse and misspellings.
you must prepare yourself to be mispronounced, to be
abused, to be followed by a punch or cry or yelp.
Little word you are born against guns much stronger than you.

The sounds of sirens, metal bars and stones,
you are born into a harsh world.

2. Inspired by “Lovers” by Witter Bynner

light acoustic melodies like flyaway hairs on her cheek
waft under the door from another room;
the girl can only hear the stroke of fingers on strings if she is
perfectly silent, only a crisp C from far away, or the glorious
melancholy of B minor with its lingering buzz;
but sheets crinkle and voices crack, and the
strain of listening to what may not be there
is taxing,
especially with eyes half-shut, sensations like color notes
and when he leaves the guitarist has ceased,
to quench himself – to sleep.

3. Inspired by “from The Tempest” by William Shakespeare and “Notebook” by Denise Levertov

The show is over now,
the tear gas and gunshots, the festivities.
I watched as they doused a car in gasoline
with a click of a lighter better suited for marijuana
they had, we had,
administered destruction, like jungles we saw on tv
and gunshots.
And as I watched it burn I thought,
we have started our own war to stop the one
in Vietnam.


4. Inspired by the line “If Death has a beginning, does it also have an end?” by Ivan Arguelles

And if death is forever,
Why estar and not ser?
Does death occur in steps
or gradients?
Is it like drops into a cup
Or a litmus paper going blue to red
Then lying limply on the lab table?
In death do we fade to black
or do we just keep going and going?

Sometimes sudden collisions
or festering in clean white hospital beds:
the question not if but when.


Hope you enjoy! Any comments will make me smile at you!