Poetry That Sings

Townsend Harris High School
Chamber Music – 0
Kari Wei
1/20/09

I have always been the bearer of a divided heart.
Music, of course, was my first love. How could it not be? Born to a mother who taught miracles on the piano and coaxed four-part harmony out of tone-deaf senior citizens, I was a part of music before I was even out of the womb. It filled my ears before they’d fully developed and dictated the rhythm of my tiny heart. I was a child of music, a daughter of sound, and- at least in the years of youth- I was never allowed to forget it.
When I was three and music held my undivided attention, my mother informed me I could no longer ruin all her blank notebooks with my inane scribbles. I threw a tantrum. Then I discovered literature, which quickly became on obsession. Soon after, I retrieved one of the old, now-forbidden notebooks. This time, words took the place of squiggly lines, and neither parent had anything to say about it. Just before 4th grade, I was awarded my first computer, an old but faithful Apple clamshell laptop. My pianist’s fingers adjusting quickly to the new keyboard, technology tripled my speed as a writer and, by the time I was ten,  I had typed up a whopping seventy-five half-completed novels.
Time dragged on. Though I did not seem to grow any taller, the evolution of my interests and mannerisms made it obvious that I had definitely grown older. The hours once spent poring over my stories were now occupied by other activities. I traded in my beloved clamshell for a trendier  Macbook. My mother passed away, uprooting life as I knew it- I moved back to Queens to live with my father. More often than not, I ignored the siren call of pen and keyboard.
But the voices in my head simply would not shut up. Desperate for a way to satisfy them with my very limited time, I turned to an outlet I’d discovered when in 2nd grade- poetry. Despite having consistently received large amounts of praise on my poems, prose was always my choice as a writer when left to my own devices. Pressed for time and with a mind too cluttered to form storylines that made sense, I revived the poet within in the years surrounding my mother’s death-  just in time to encounter a new conflict.
Having entered the stage where my future was constantly being discussed, I was presented with an eventual choice. Music? Or literature? A couple years have gone by since I was first asked this question. I still have not found the answer. However, somewhere along the line, someone mentioned songwriting. Of course, the role of a singer-songwriter; a marriage of both of my loves. My favorite musical outlet is song, and circumstance/necessity has turned me into a poet rather than a novelist. It was a flawless suggestion, but when I sat down and gave the idea a try, I came up with a blank slate. Which taught me yet another lesson; creativity cannot be forced.
With two months to go until my 15th birthday, I am still as indecisive as ever. But I do not forget that, amid my confusion, I still have a full collection of my own poetry- to which it will, hopefully, never be too late to find a tune.

NEW STORYLINES: Cybereality

Le gasp! Possible revival of the 4th and 5th grade novelist within? We shall see.

Cybereality
TRIGGER (if not overall inspiration): “Gamer Girl” (Mari Mancusi) and, consequently, its summary. Found on a shelf in Barnes + Noble, created instant magnetism thanks to my gamer boyfriend messing with my head.
Also, a good friend’s latest female conquest on the notorious ChatAnGo. Thanks, Sir Pimpsalot.

When I discovered aforementioned book, I was immediately drawn in thanks to my own online exploits. I was half in love with the concept by the time I got through the first sentence of the summary. By the end, I was smitten, but not with the book. The concept itself was quite incredible, but if the summary was to be believed, the book went into said concept on far too shallow a level to do it true justice *summary included in the comments, didn’t want to make everyone read it*. I was suddenly overwhelmed with a desire to take the idea of “Gamer Girl” and bring some truth to it- the truth that so many socially troubled adolescents secretly turn to the internet for in our modern day and age, spawning a whole underground online world that I, content enough with my “RL” [read: Real Life], was completely unaware of until an IRL tragedy catapulted me into it headfirst.
Then, Sir Pimpsalot’s exploits and newest virtual damsel prompted me to graduate from the idea of breathing life to “Gamer Girl” to creating an entire short-story collection of different online situations and stories. After all, it’s a multi-faceted underground; from the gamer almost forced to bond with e-compatriots to reach the next level to the verbal roleplayer, simultaneously demolishing continental capitols in an IC thread and discussing real-world international politics with fellow players from numerous universities in the OOC thread, to the addictive pull of social networking sites and their growing “People You May Know” networks (thanks, Facebook).

We’ve all heard the stories about the pedophiles on Myspace, the Facebook stalkers (which some of us can even be counted among; I know I’m guilty as charged), the eloping “good girls” who are ensnared by the net of captivating and sexually deprived older men… What about the sunnier side? What about the lives of adolescents on the bring of self-destruction, whose hopes were revived by total strangers that understood them much better than anyone in a 10-mile physical radius? What about the lifelong friends and the intriguing opinions of those born from different worlds but with similar interests? No one has ever written of their story.

It’s January, the first month of the year, nine years into the 21st century.
I think it’s about time.

COMING UP SOON:
Beloved Illusions
TRIGGER (if not overall inspiration): Laurie B. Weasley
PRELUDE: Two girls walk into a Hot Topic store, dressed so calculatedly that they almost melt into the racks. Eyeing a couple particularly cute males that seem to fit the stereotypical “emo-guy” bill, they clomp over a few aisles, determined to catch them off guard. Instant chemistry result in fast friendship and even (fatal?) attraction, of the “can’t-stop-thinking-about-her” variety. But what happens when the guys find out their muses were illusions- projects created by two particularly bored young actresses- and they the unsuspecting victims of the girls’ experiment?

Artistic (And Hormonal) Stimulation

http://www.teenvogue.com/industry/video/2009/01/gossip-girl-star-ed-westwick

Click.

Wonder.

Watch.

Worship.

Ed Westwick is my pick of the Holy Trinity (Penn+Chace+Ed) because, besides catering to my not-so-secret bad boy complex, he has actual substance. Might I add, delicious substance. Not that Penn and Chace lack it, but when you add substance to Ed’s X factor you get an eclipse, so to speak.

I kid you not; this link isn’t just about providing you all with some fabulous eye candy. Do you hear the words this man omits?! There’s nothing better for the romantic (and/or animalistic) palette than an intellectual, well-spoken, brutally talented artist wrapped in one smokin’ hot package with, of course, the essential and supersexy foreign accent.

Agreed? Agreed.

EUPHORIA

True to the scent I spontaneously chose this morning, I am euphoric.

I have just, in an unexpected twist of achievement, passed Ms. Nix’s exercise series.

OH JOY
THERE IS A GOD

I Am So

worried and angry and helpless that I feel sick all over again.

Life
Goes
Straight
Down

MULTITALENT: A Thousand Things

“I just wanted to let people see some of the things I’ve seen. The book contains images I’ve taken all over the world.”
“The way a live performance is to the studio performance; so is Polaroid Instant to the Digital Format. I only get one shot of the subject.”

http://www.athousandthingsbook.com/
A Thousand Things – A book of polaroids by Jason Mraz

Break out of the box!… or at least climb on top of it and use it as a launch pad.
Singer-songwriter Jason Mraz (the man behind 08’s “I’m Yours”) adds “avid and now published photographer” to his resume. I must admit it looks good next to “Grammy nominee”.

PREVIEW:

You know, if anyone mysteriously feels the urge to get me this, you won’t hear me complaining.

1/21/09

it was after last night
when i dreamt of your eyes
and they showed me the truth
in a world full of lies

love is written
all over me.
can you feel it on my hips?
can you taste it on my lips?

i understood you at last
why slow down? there’s no time
so fall with me. fall fast
i am yours, you are mine

love is written
all over me.
do you see it in my screams?
do you hear it in my dreams?

young i may be but
not too young to know
that this chance won’t come twice
so let go, love, let go

love is written
all over me.
did you paint it like an art?
did you brand it on my heart?

i leave life in my wake
you are my last mistake.
you’re the one right decision
that i’ll ever make.

Tuesday, January 20th, 2009 – Freewrite

Prelude (First Band, English)
“Happy Inauguration Day.
President Obama, you will be forced to make some tough decisions. Follow Bruce Wayne’s lead and make the right ones, because even if short-term America resents you for them, long-term world history will remember you. Well.
They didn’t start dissecting Lincoln’s second inaugural address until long after he was dead anyway.

Townsend Harris High School
1/20/09
Writing Process – 6
Kari Wei

*written on Microsoft Word*
This fill effect is called daybreak, which is actually quite fitting for the occasion.

Inauguration Day.

 

          A new day dawns for America- and for the universe. Because no matter how far we have fallen in the public eye, this is still the greatest country in the world. We are the focal point in the international eye. Our glass ceiling, albeit still intact, has 18 million cracks within it. Our president- our president- is a half-African man, and a full American man.

            President Barack Hussein Obama.

            President Barack Obama.

            President Obama.

            Washington. Jefferson. Madison. Lincoln. Jackson. Kennedy. Johnson. Reagan. Clinton. Bush. Obama.

            Welcome to a new day, America. Welcome to change. For better or for worse, we are moving- forward or backward, we are moving, and this man has both hands on the steering wheel. We, America, we, the people of the world, the next generation and the future of the universe, pledge to follow you wherever you may take us.

            You are both the white knight and the dark knight. You will maintain a beloved public image while simultaneously making the right decisions even when they do not please everyone. You are Barack Obama, 44^th President of the United States of America, the leader of the modern world. You will uphold our constitution, our bill of rights, our spirit, and our hearts. You are the colors I use to write this (red, white, blue). You are the flag. You are America, and America is you.

            Good luck.

I’m Reproducing Like Mad Here

http://littleblueriver.wordpress.com/

Blog of another more recent and erstwhile partner in (high-school) crime, Ivy. Also worth your time. I would be much obliged if you would make her statistics look like they were on steroids.

Enjoy.

This is what I love about the internet

Two random things I discovered today that warmed the heart.

a) In an article about celebrity roommates that I clicked on while procrastinating:

Christopher Reeve and Robin Williams

At Julliard, roomies Robin Williams and Christopher Reeve vowed to always be friends and help each other throughout life. Both held true to the promise, as they remained close. Williams even covered some of Reeve’s medical expenses after he was paralyzed. Of course, being Robin Williams, he couldn’t stop there; after Reeve found out he couldn’t walk again, Williams visited him dressed as a doctor and pretending to be his proctologist, reportedly causing Reeve to smile for the first time since the accident.

b) Link from Tyler