Tuesday, April 19, 2011

A Cappella Poetry

These are poems that I wrote for class after reading through A Capella: Mennonite Voices in Poetry.  We were given an assignment to give us different ideas for types of poems to write.


(Mennonite icon poem)

Subtle Differences

I suppose I should have caught on,
returning my babysitting money
after Mom said I had been paid too much.

My friends’ toy guns punched out divisions
I hadn’t considered. The R-rated Mortal Combat film
was my guilt and their gluttony.

But I needed to know
how hymns held more than harmony,
why signing on Sundays was something to be proud of.

The differences remain,
but now I’m better at singing my part.

(Poem about music)
Praying for Praise at Convention
One hand in the air, if you don’t really care.
Two hands in the air, if you don’t really care.

Pumping bass and cranked up vocals, pounding through the air.
As simple as possible, let’s not be excluding.

To be exclusive is rude yes, so we’ve spread to include this.
With each new song, I feel further out of place.

My face is blocked as I awkwardly walk,
Shifting to stand with this praise song talk.

My hands hang as awkward as the absence of harmony.
I understand the need to change, but I haven’t found harmony.

Feeling the beat, I feel so excluded.
I picture my church, so small, secluded.

Back to the conference, in time and in step,
But I feel a distance, Lord help me accept.

Working With the Bass
The strings fight back against his ill-prepared fingers.
As much as he knows and wills what he wants,
he still can’t pull past the undeniably unworn flatwounds.
He has blisters on his hands. *
He can’t stand the taunting four strands
that stand straight through the well-charted plans.
The blisters pop, right in time on two and four.
Caught up in the mix , the damp dribblings go unnoticed.
Determined till the end, the spots won’t mend.
Left at the end to reflect on the merit,
He band-aids the wound, and trys to bear it.

*Waltner-Toews’s line From “Roots.”



4 comments:

  1. These poems show a strong sense of personal reflection, I love that you were able to delve so deep on an intimate level with yourself and your culture. Good job!

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  2. i can't even imagine what your freestyle thursdays must look like with all this practice you've gotten from class, ha. the style of writing that you lean towards is a style i've always struggled with --- i seriously admire you for being able to structure things that rhyme and yet have such an ease and flow to them.

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  3. your convention poem goes against what one would expect from a young adult; as Eric Gill said, "if you look after goodness and truth, beauty will look after itself." the idea that harmony is something to be sought even in this individualistic society where blaring our own emotions is the expexted form of worship brings hope for music in the church's future.

    although I often am found with those "charsmatic" worship types, I find that walking into a mennonight church where people actually CAN sing brings so much more emotion to the music than a drowning organ in most protestant halls. thank you for giving music the beauty it deserves adn allowing that to be true praise.

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  4. subtle differences
    This poem is interesting because it does not explain what it means to singing your part. I believe that it makes it better because instead of saying how something it encourages thought.

    praying for praise at convention
    The poem about music is one that is very common among us Mennonites at convention. I think that there is something plastic at convection that extends from the afternoon service projects to the Styrofoam plates. You captured part of that means in your poem.

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