Poetry: Food for the Soul

Good evening everyone and welcome to The Magical Mystery Blog.

Tonight, I share some fantastic news with everyone. My old community college’s literary magazine has accepted my submissions and will be displaying some of my poetry in this year’s issue.  Also as far as I’m concerned, my other college’s literary magazine will also be publishing a few of my poems.  My poetry deals with a ton of different elements, but here are my top five subjects that I often write about.

5. People

Call me crazy, but people watching is rather fun. The actions they do, how they perform them, often tell you what type of person they are. They also make for good inspiration when it comes to poetry. How gently a woman can pick up something as opposed to someone else lifting an object aggressively. How a person tries to copy someone else’s actions and how they may fail or succeed in doing so. Everyone is different, making them interesting, dull, klutzy, or lively.

4. Objects

It’s easy to personify objects, especially in poetry. The verses become a canvas for you to morph something like an orange into a moon. Sometimes I twist normal items into something new and different things. I love doing that because it plays with the reader’s mind, challenging them to think of an object as something else.

3. Nature

Nature is a concept often used in art and literature. Great poets like Lord Byron and Emerson have written about the beauty of nature in many forms, from the forests to night. I mostly write about my two loves of nature: the night (and all its’ details) and the sea. I’ve always admired the sea and the mysteries and beauty it contains. I’ve often found the night soothing and beautiful, it relaxes me, and allows me to do my best work during that time.

2. Personal Experiences

Everyone has experiences that affect them in some way or another. My experiences have ranged from fantastic to unusual and everything in between. They’re usually my fuel for most of my poems when other muses fail me.

1. Life

Life is a beast. On some day it’s kind and gentle towards you. Other days, it could be vicious and unmerciful for no reason. It is an inspiring monster that cannot be tamed, but rather ridden with every passing day. Every day presents something new to be inspired by or contemplate.  For me, I take these events as bits of inspiration.  

Feel free to reblog and comment, and as always feedback and followers are welcomed. Before this entry concludes, I like to ask everyone a question:

What inspires you to write? 

A Little Late Night Reading

Hello everyone and welcome to a late night version of The Magical Mystery Blog.

Tonight I thought I’d do something completely different. Instead of writing up my usual list of things, reviews, or entry of current events, I’ve decided to post one of my poems. I've been writing poetry since I was a child and am often inspired by nature, my own thoughts and feelings, and anything that sparks something in my mind. This is one of my poems I sent in to my old college's magazine in hopes for it to be published. Feel free to offer any improvement on it and as always, enjoy.

Morning

The prepubescent glow
bathes the chamber in dusty blue,
sleepy eyes shy away from the
arrival of a new day, and seek
comfort in the fading dark.

Shadows cling to corners
still scared of their ritual
demise – though temporary
until nightfall.

Parting stars slow with time,
dividing the blackened ocean,
making way for the gilded bringer.

Leaves capture flecks of gold,
a cluster of hanging basins
bound to one form, whose arms
embrace the oncoming warmth,
and witness the golden birth.

Cumberbatch Captures Literature Beautifully

Greetings everyone and welcome to a late night Friday version of The Magical Mystery Blog.

This week I revisited some of my favorite YouTube videos involving Benedict Cumberbatch. I’m not talking about the scene where he rescued Irene Adler or his filming of Star Trek, but rather his literary videos.

As a literature lover, I’m drawn to classic works such as Kubla Khan, Metamorphosis, Macbeth, and many others. Cumberbatch has intensified my admiration by reading some pieces of classic literature. While some of you may pass this off or even question how this is even possible, I urge you to listen to some of his audio readings.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HrAGCJJkNbE – Benedict Cumberbatch reads John Keats’ Ode to a Nightingale

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YM8LAbuateI – Benedict Cumberbatch reads Shakespeare’s ‘The Seven Stages of Man’

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x7mEV9VUgtQ – Benedict Cumberbatch reads Kubla Khan

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xvz-_vky7mM – Benedict Cumberbatch reads a section of Casanova (prepare your imaginations)

I’m extremely particular with how literature is read. The person must embody the piece using the right tone, the perfect pace, the correct (if any) emphasis, and other factors. Otherwise, they butcher it. But Cumberbatch reads each work with a different voice, taking on the persona of the written word, and dealing with it carefully, bringing out their uniqueness.   

His reading of John Keats’ Ode to a Nightingale is like a tranquil river. So smooth, it penetrates the soul and warms it like fire. With every uttered word, the flames spread throughout the body and brain, and envelope the senses in warmth.  At times, his voice transforms into a soft whisper, filled with a longing for something familiar, and exhausted from reciting these words many times before.

This differs from his reading of Shakespeare’s ‘The Seven Stages of Man’ piece where his voice is bold, as though making a factual observation of the life of man.  He speaks as though he is telling the truths of life, of how we evolve as the parts noted in the section. His voice contributes to the flow of the work, as though his voice itself is growing with every stage of man. His voice is serious at first but winds its way down to something casual, as though man has experienced everything in his life, and is understandable and knowledgeable of everything.

What piece of literature would you love to hear Benedict Cumberbatch read? Feel free to comment and as always, feedback and followers are welcomed.

Drunk on Literature

Greetings everyone and welcome to another start of the week here at The Magical Mystery Blog.

As I've mentioned before, I love to read. Reading for me is what breathing is to every living thing. Without it, we would merely die and cease to exist as nothing more than a cadaver.

I have a wide taste in various types of writing, including poetry. One of my favorite poets is Emily Dickinson, a recluse from Manhattan. Brought up as a Christian, she entertained herself with mythologies, biblical tales, and other stories to fuel her poems. During her introverted life, she read and wrote like a religion.

Like any other curious child, I find her book one day while browsing through our school’s library. Since then I have been hooked to her writing, alongside Edgar Allen Poe’s, Henry David Thoreau’s, and many others. Growing up, I often found translating poetry to be fun. To this day, I still find this activity to be fun.

Today I will be doing a rough translation of Emily Dickinson’s poem,” I taste a liquor never brewed.” Below is the poem.

I taste a liquor never brewed,

From tankards scooped in pearl;

Not all the vats upon the Rhine

Yield such an alcohol!

Inebriate of air am I,

And debauchee of dew, 

Reeling, through endless summer days, 

From inns of molten blue.

When landlords turn the drunken bee 

Out of the foxglove's door, 

When butterflies renounce their drams, 

I shall but drink the more!

Till seraphs swing their snowy hats, 

And saints to windows run, 

To see the little tippler 

Leaning against the sun!

The first verse is the introduction to the poem. Dickinson tells us she tasted a brew that’s not normally drunk in a tankard. A tankard is a specific type of drinking mug that is sometimes a pearl shade. Yet liquor or any type of alcohol is not brewed or made in a tankard, it goes through a fermentation process at a factory or brewery. The tankard is crafted (or scooped) to give it a pearl shade. Apparently the brew itself is not your average brew; it's a special one. We do not know what she means as of yet.  

She continues to explain how powerful this specific type of alcohol she drinks is. It is so strong that the vats on the Rhine cannot stop it.  The Rhine in this poem is being referred to as the Rhine River that stretches from Andermatt, Switzerland, cuts through Germany, and spills out at Rotterdam, Netherlands into the North Sea.  There are tons of towns that rest on the Rhine River in Germany and some of them even have breweries. These locations have vats in them of various beverages. Dickinson is saying that the alcohol of her drink is so powerful that the vats of the Rhine River can’t yield how strong her drink is.

In the second verse, Emily informs her audience that she is drunk on air, a degenerate of dew, and is reeling through the summer. From how it appears, she is not inebriated on any sort of physical alcoholic drink but rather nature. She is heavily drinking air, breathing it every day of her life, and enjoying it. She is a “debauchee of dew” (Dickinson); she constantly indulges in the morning dew as an alcoholic does to alcohol. The air and dew have her reeling throughout the days “from inns of Molten blue” (Dickinson). These inns that Dickinson describes could be the sky which at some points during the day has a molten blue shade.

In the third verse, Dickinson uses quotations to emphasize some of her subjects. Throughout this verse, she treats nature like a bar of people and their actions involving alcohol. In the first pair of lines, she refers to a bee as a person getting kicked out of a bar for having too much to drink. The insect is kicked out of the foxglove’s (a flower) door, which is the opening of the flower. The “Landlord” in this case is the flower itself because it has filled the bee to a great degree. In the next pair of lines, Dickinson refers to butterflies giving up their “drams” (nectar); much like an alcoholic would give up their drinking addiction. But as to where the butterflies give up their drams, Dickinson absorbs more of her particular drink.

In the final verse, she claims that she will continue to drink until she attracts the attention of saints and seraphs. These two specific figures are found in one place: Heaven. This could be an implication of her Christian upbringing because angels and saints are thoroughly mentioned in that religion. However, the only way she’ll see these figures is when she is deceased. This concept flows into her final two lines beautifully. Since she is dead in the first pair of lines, she could easily be “the little Tippler leaning against the Sun” (Dickinson) because she has joined the seraphs and saints in Heaven, which is close to the Sun.

So readers, what do you think of this famous poem? Who are your favorite poets? Feel free to leave a comment and followers are always welcomed.