The Daily Honky Tonk 174th Edition

The Daily Honky Tonk
174th Edition
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
4:12 PM
Somehow waking up from a dream where two people close to me died, and then finding out in reality that one of my friends is engaged screamed to me for a DHT. I’m almost amazed that I’m taking time to do this. For the spring term I’m taking a Creative Writing Class, Fundamentals of Literary Criticism, and a Spanish Writing Class. . . Which pretty much equates to a LOT of writing. I’m really enjoying it, but sometimes it seems like reading and writing are all I do.
Okay, I can’t really say that is all I do. It’s spring time and I play a lot- tubing down the river, shooting hoops, volleyball, hikes, running, walks, and late night movies. I like how people have play time now since most people are either just working or taking fewer credits. Anyway, let’s officially start this.

Art Therapy
So, I’ve avoided using the DHT as an emotional release since making it home from the mission. Since that was one of the main purposes in high school, I don’t have that need as much anymore. Granted, I still go through episodes, but I am not as quick to want to share them with everyone. I’ve become a big fan of cognitive therapy which focuses in on changing irrational thoughts and were the basis for the crazy papers that my mission president gave me. Still at times, I’ve just wanted to spill my feelings out in words. Playing piano and guitar can be very effective, but I still find writing to be even more effective in releasing emotion. Yesterday I completed my first draft of a very sad story . . . And as I was discovering what the one character’s past was really supposed to be, I almost couldn’t write it .. .but I knew what needed to happen to explain everything else. I was thinking about writers like Earnest Hemingway and wondered if they used writing as therapy; I think there is a good chance.

A Smidgen of Poetry
I am part way through the poetry unit in our class for Fundamentals of Literature and we are start poetry in our Creative Writing Class tomorrow. I have not been fond of poetry in general. If it is to hard to abstract an overly abstract meaning from a poem then I find it frustrating. And while I do get an urge to read a good book, I rarely have the urge to sit down and read a collection of poems. However, I’ve found some poems that I really like and I thought I would share some with you.

**This poem is by my friend Lamora. I know Lamora from the singles ward in Champaign-Urbana. When I learned that she was a writer we started sharing pieces of writing. She gave me permission to share some of her writings with you. For today, I chose this poem.

You Are What You Eat-Lamora Delp

I sit quietly,
my eyes devouring
the night outside
my window.

I am the ration of night herself.
Deep and forgiving
and fleeting.

I am the immortal chocolate oak,
reaching, stretching, clawing
upwards.

I am a sugar crystal of star,
bright, and alone.
Sometimes millions
and millions
of years
away.

I am the sliver of moon.
A white, chewed-off
bit
of fingernail, scratching
the dark.

Epitaph by Timothy Steele
Here lies Sir Tact, a diplomatic fellow
Whose silence was not golden, but just yellow.
**I love how Steele points out the dangers of being tactful to an extreme.

Anonymous Victorian poem without a name
Here’s a little ditty that you really ought to know,
Horses “sweat” and men “perspire,” but ladies only “glow.”

Recital by John Updike

ROGER BOBO GIVES
RECITAL ON TUBA
-Headline in the Times

Eskimos in Manitoba,
Barracuda off Aruba,
Cock an ear when Roger Bobo
Starts to solo on the tuba.
Men of every station – Pooh-Bah,
Nabob, bozo, toff, and habo -
Cry in unison, “Indubi-
Tably, there is simply nobo-

Dy who oompahs on the tubo,
Solo, quite like Roger Bobo.”

**I picked this one for its ability to emphasize meaning and the sound of a tuba through the sounds of each word choice rather than there specific meaning.

I think that is enough writing for today. I enjoyed it for the time being. However, I’ve been sitting in the same spot in the library for the last couple hours and it’s time to move.
The Editor,
Mark