Post 309: One More Theory About Happiness

One More Theory About Happiness by Paul Guest. ISBN: 9780061685170.

I actually liked Guest's descriptions of finding poetry a lot better than his narrative about his disability. Call me strange, but I think he might actually have cleaner emotions and less conflict with that because he was able to write about it with a bit more clarity. Then again, maybe it's because I was able to identify with it a little better, having once considered myself a poet, but never having been paralyzed.

I especially liked the description Guest included when he "discovered" the poem Melancholia. He was reading the dictionary entry, which included the etymology, and initially read it as "black hole" when it was really "black bile." Although I don't write as much poetry as I used to, whenever I do pick up a pen it is usually under similar circumstances. I actually used to write two or three poems a day in high school because I was terribly bored with the lesson plans, which were often just a rehash of the textbook anyway. I kept a running list of titles in the back of my poetry notebook so that if I ever got stuck I could just flip to the back and use it as a kind of prompt.

My favorite poems though were the ones where lines and images seemed to come to me out of nowhere. Possibly one of my favorite poems that I wrote was for my undergraduate poetry class. Although it was for an assignment, I was going through a difficult break up at the time and I felt very detached and out of place. The relationship had been floundering for a while, but the end of it still hurt in a way I couldn't have imagined. So when the assignment came to write a poem using only imagery I had a flash of inspiration. I would write about the decline of my relationship and the oddness I felt associated with that. This is the poem I wrote:

"Let's Just Take a Break"

A flood gate opens.

Gallons of water

rush through a desert

that has its own forms of life.

Life that cannot possibly handle

this much water

emptying into

Caverns, Cliffs, and Gullies.

The land can’t absorb it all

fast enough.

So I am swept away

like an old canoe

the flood brought with it,

now sticking in the fork

of a blooming cactus.

There is no one to rescue

this vessel.

The canoe stays

Stuck.

Spines grow into

water-softened wood.

The flood recedes,

leaving a trail of green behind it,

and a canoe up in a cactus.

It is not an especially good poem, but I have always liked it for its simplicity. I like it because I did manage to capture the swell and overwhelming of emotions, the flood that I was feeling. And I did feel like my life was adrift. I didn't know what to do with myself half the time. I went through my day hoping it would be better than the last day, that I would cry less and hurt less and suddenly remember what it felt like to be happy.

I don't write poetry much anymore, partially because this blog has taken it's place, but also because I associate it with a very specific time in my life. I'm not really that person anymore, so I feel I need to use a new format to express myself.

Do you have a favorite poem or story that you've written? One that felt like it just came to you? Tell me about it.

A decent review can be found over at the Bookslut blog. I gave it two stars and a waffle (on Goodreads two stars is "it's okay".)
LibsNote: Free copy received from the publisher's booth at ALA 2010.

Post 308: One More Theory About Happiness

One More Theory About Happiness by Paul Guest. ISBN: 9780061685170.

So...I never learned to ride a bike. Oh, I had one, but I never got past the training wheels stage. Part of this may have been my fear of falling. I have always been cautious about my footing and balance when hiking or even just walking down the street. I often hesitate before taking my first step, and sometimes this has actually caused more falls than it has prevented. This fear likely occurred because my awkward stage started earlier than most of my peers and lasted up until I was about twelve (when I stopped having huge growth spurts).

In any case, this did not bode well for me learning to ride a bike to begin with. The second factor was that my parents bought me a bike I would "grow into". It was not quite an adult bike, but it was definitely built for someone taller than my five-nearly-six-year old frame would allow. Sure, I was tall for my age, but the pedals were an awful long way away, and the ground was even further off. By the time I had grown into the bike I had already given up ever learning how to ride, mostly because I fell often, and when I fell someone was usually around to laugh at me... and it was usually my father.

In some ways I regret never having learned. On the other hand, I've surely avoided some pretty severe accident just by not putting myself on two precariously balanced wheels. While I may not have had an accident like Guest's that would have left me a quadriplegic, I may still have broken or fractured bones (I already had enough of those just walking...awkward phase was REALLY awkward), or even been hit by a car like my mother was.

I do think it's something I'd like to learn, but I'm not sure I'm really in a hurry. I've gotten through life pretty well without knowing how to ride a bike so far. Besides, America isn't really built for biking anyway. Maybe when gas goes up to $5/gallon and we start seeing more bikes on the road I'll be more inclined. People are just too careless, encased in their ton or so of car, for me to ever feel safe on something so fragile and spindly. I do sometimes wonder if I missed out on some social opportunities as a kid because I couldn't ride a bike. Then again, I don't recall ever being asked to go for a bike ride with anyone...

A decent review can be found over at the Bookslut blog. I gave it two stars and a waffle (on Goodreads two stars is "it's okay".)
LibsNote: Free copy received from the publisher's booth at ALA 2010.