Home Vignette

All houses have a distinct smell. So easily recognizable. When I borrow a friends sweater, I always appreciate how it smells just like them. Is it a bad smell? they ask. It's not good or bad or describable in any way, just you.
The only time I can smell my house's scent, and it's only for a second, is when I come back from a long trip. As I shuffle through the door dazed from the long car ride, my mind registers the faint scent of the house, usually so familiar it is unrecognizable. But for this moment my brain can register the smell and guess at what is is made up of. Lingering smoke from a fire, baked goods, and stone.

Photo Vignette

Inside my dancing bear sweatshirt that is my favorite, I am so cozy. All of the sudden I grew cold when the sun dissapeared. But I have the same feeling you get when you put clothes on straight from the dryer. My Keds help me climb all over the rocks, leaping from one to the next. They feel safe and I'm not even scared that I will fall into the water and get carried away.
Dad wants to take a picture of me like always. So I take a rest from my leaping and crouch down on a rock. My dads camera is very old and I hope he doesn't drop it because it would break just like an egg. He looks funny with his eye all squinty but I'm used to it. He snaps the picture and I think that I would like to stay here for a long time.

Name Vignette

Apparently my name means 'pure', but that's not what I think of. Calm and elegant are more accurate. A woman sitting down to breakfast. 'Pure' sounds so saintly and clean. But I think there are Katherine's with fire.
My name changes feeling with changes of speakers. Some make my name flow, utilizing all three syllables, building me up to be more refined than I am. But most-failing to notice the middle, the peanut butter- make it sound flat and metallic. Why the 'er' is so easily neglected I'll never know.
Lying on the table in the operatine room, my name waits to be cut up, rearranged, shortened. Katie, Kate, Kathy, Kat Katrina. Endless abbreviations. Versatile. Thank god I have a K instead of a C. The C brings an elderly, ugly feel. Beauty is lost along with the three slashes.
I was not named after anyone. My parents simply liked the name. No great aunt or godmother sharing the nine letters with me, trying to squeeze in. There would be no room.

Transition

Who were you trying

to be? I could never figure

it out; or how how long it had been,

or what had

made you change

But now I stand in frumpy

jeans and thin soled sneakers

On the cracked sidewalk, the fog thickening

Nothing visible

But a gritty shoelace, two zipper pulls

a bright red umbrella

and a tattered yellow legal pad

with scrawling cursive

revealing a life.

Provisions

What should we have taken
with us? We never could decide
on that; or what to wear,
or at what time of
year we should make the journey

So here we are in thin
raincoats and rubber boots

On the disastrous ice, the wind rising

Nothing in our pockets

But a pencil stub, two oranges
Four Toronto streetcar tickets

and an elastic band holding a bundle
of small white filing cards
printed with important facts.

Margaret Atwood

Ignorance

It is not possible to love

when we do not know of hate,

happiness can not exist

when there is no sad with which to compare,

calm means nothing

if anger has never struck,

peace is only appreciated

when war has been felt,

beauty wouldn't be noticed

if there weren't such a thing as ugly,

we can't know generosity

without seeing selfishness.

But how can we feel happy

we we turn our eyes from the bad,

shove the sadness in the corner?

We can't, it doesn't follow the law,

the happy is not whole.

Voice Assignment

Provisions

What should we have taken with us? We never could decide on that; or what to wear, or at what time of year we should make the journey So here we are in thin raincoats and rubber boots On the disastrous ice, the wind rising Nothing in our pockets But a pencil stub, two oranges Four Toronto streetcar tickets and an elastic band holding a bundle of small white filing cards printed with important facts. -Margaret Atwood This is a brief poem, but very interesting. The voice that comes through to me is kind of down and regretful. She is looking back at choices she could have made in the past that would have made her better of now. For example, when she says 'what should we have taken with us?' she is implying that they did not take the right things with them. She sounds like she's given up and accepted the situation when she writes 'so here we are in thin raincoats and rubber boots'. The list of what's in their pockets adds to the intrigue of the poem and is the main reason I liked the poem so much. The objects are so random and the reader wonders what the important facts are on the bundled notecards. The phrases 'disastrous ice' and 'nothing in our pockets' make the author sound a bit glum. I really like this poem because it's ambiguous, random and uses description and imagery sparingly and tactfully.

Performance Poem

Spectrum

It swirls with purple lies,
has gray memories not easy to keep
can be instantly overcome with red desire
or can be spinning with spots of white havoc.
It might flutter with irrepressible yellow excitement
a blanket can suffocate it with orange fear
or it can be coated in blue elation like fondu.
Yet even with these pathways, it can still wander aimlessly with pea-green boredom.

1. The voice in my poem is intense and contemplative. It shows creative personality and thogutful ideas.
2. I will try to express an intense and dramatic mood when I perform this poem in front of the class. However, I will be very embarresed so it might come off sounding unsure and timid.
3. Somehow I will convey 'swirling', 'spinning' and 'flutter with arm movements. I will also wander throughout the audience during the last line.
4. What scares me about the assignment is being alone in front of the class, looking stupid, and embarrasing myself. It will be exciting to watch everyone else perform.
5. Performance poetry makes it easier for the audience to get the mood and tone of the poem and interpret what the author reading it really means. The movement provides a more definate meaning to lines that could be ambiguous. Even just seeing the author and hearing their voice can add a lot more meaning and sense to the poem.