Practice Paragraphs

28 04 2007

I became comforted by the sounds of the passing cars; motion, it seemed, meant life, and life meant happiness, and so the sounds of happiness were all around me, grumbling uncontrollably from exhaust pipes. It was the beginning of summer yet again, the Yard in full algaeal bloom draining the nutrients from the pipes and the students around it. As we approached finals season, the vitality outside beckoned; clearly, summer vacation was the product of our collective understanding that these green outdoors must eventually win. And so, spring finals became an endurance test for those who could focus.

The novel begins as would a movie, credits roll introducing you to the actors and actresses by names they don’t go by in the plot. Margaret. Kevin. Maybe a few you know already, some others you can only remember seeing before, and the rest mean nothing to you. The background is particularly well edited: a collage, likely, of leaves falling and soft focus shots of the campus. You know that it is Harvard campus because you’ve seen the cover, you predict the plot somewhat. The first few minutes get everyone on even footing, those who had heard of or seen the trailer and those who just sneaked in. The actors become their respective roles, these new characters emerge, and suddenly a suitcase is dropped on a rough wooden floor the title flashes (something clever, but also reflective of the whole piece) and our lead steps into the dorm-room.

For Winter

28 04 2007

Untitled No. 3

I become Russian winter
When the children fall
As the incarnations of desire
Migrate to me to rock and roll
Despite the ashes settling by the way


We are in a movie and your life is the plot
I am merely scenery, a member of the cast
As an extra turns to you and asks,
Why has winter gotten colder
And why don’t the stars shine anymore,
You look up and its my cue,
And I look like I’m supposed to.

Winter, Winter

This slant of light, oppressive-
Books too, align to feed upon the soul
Blessing wives who run out as
Respect’s icy mistress suddenly seeks love.
While some will don inky cloaks, and others
Bury their ineptitude amidst fellow prisoners,
They cannot bear the weight,
While huddled are your masses
They cannot bear the weight
As some break free to find a fire

Winter, Winter [Same thoughts, different writing / style]

While under the weight of winter
And reading some disarming books,
I thought about those who survive despite the bitter cold.
What clothes they hid themselves in,
What escapes they seek,
What efforts they make to huddle together,
(including making families),
And I thought that they alone,
These individuals amongst many,
Could not bear the task.
We cannot depend on them for the solution,
Because once they have found it they no longer bear the weight,
They become as fire,
Which leaves us confused, for which of the many men
Who appears so thawed, so convincingly content
Is not false like the others?

Four 40 Word Stories

19 04 2007

Looking deeply into his widening eyes, she told him “goodbye,” forgetting the bruises, caused and forming. Rain falls, a gunshot. She takes a few more steps, smiling weakly – he did not have a blank inside the barrel that time.

Venice was not for business. He looked at his wife, admitting to nothing about beautiful Jane, informing the Mrs. instead that the contract went through successfully. She laughed, seeing through his lies easily enough, and remembering Venice as “Jane.”

It was easy enough to wait an eternity for her. Her performance had just finished to great applause, and I was backstage with red roses after years of friendship bordering on romance. She finally came forth and introduced me to “Michael.”

It’s not every day that i mention harvard

18 04 2007

A fight song from the Harvard Band webpage..
Fight Fiercely, Harvard!
First Verse

Fight fiercely, Harvard!
Fight, fight, fight!
Demonstrate to them our skill.
Albeit they possess the might,
Nonetheless we have the will.
How we shall celebrate our victory?
We shall invite the whole team
Up for tea! How jolly!
Hurl that spheroid down the field
And fight! Fight! Fight!

Second Verse

Fight fiercely, Harvard!
Fight, fight, fight!
Impress them with our prowess, do.
Oh, fellows, do not let the Crimson down;,
Be of stout heart, and true.
Fight for Harvard’s glorious name!
Won’t it be peachy if we
Win the game? Oh goody!
Let’s try not to injure them,
But fight! Fight! Fight!

– – – – – – – – –

I’m singing this next year at the Harvard-Yale game.