2004-09-23
poetry or prose?
In sixth grade, I had to memorize this much of it:
The Midnight Ride of Paul Revere By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
-Listen, my children, and you shall hear
Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere,
On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-five;
Hardly a man is now alive
Who remembers that famous day and year
-He said to his friend, "If the British march
By land or sea from the town to-night,
Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry arch
Of the North Church tower as a signal light,-
-One if by land, and two if by sea;
And I on the opposite shore will be,
Ready to ride and spread the alarm
Through every Middlesex village and farm,
For the country folk to be up and to arm."
It's a pretty good poem. I'm in a very colon-istic mood right now especially, having just finished addressing King George III himself. It's good. History is good. Some quote I read in Reader's Diegest last night: "Memory is often less about the truth than about what we want it to be." Perhaps this is true. When I reminisce, I look back upon things that were pretty swell. I don't think my memory is lying or buffering these things up. Then again, it all floods make when I'm in that dreamy mood as I try to sleep. But I can't allow the possibility for memory lapse- it would mean I have a dysfunctional hippocampus! No WAY!
Today during "the um game" at speech practice, I had to impulsively speak upon given the word "Libby." I repeatedly said "vermiculite." I don't know what is wrong with me. The kid that looks like a Roman statue is the best of the worst. He is unlike them in the eyes, of course: his are actually humanlike.
Isn't it odd that sculpters back in the day (well, a few centuries ago let's say..) were so impressively intricate upon the foldings and wrappings of their figures' clothes (or lack thereof) amongst other imparticularly detailed features, when the eyes remain blank, only noted for their superb shaping and outline? What of the pupil and iris, the lid and fine lashes? These were seeminly disregarded in the era of Greek and Roman sculptures I am thinking of. I know not why, but rest assured that I'll ask Phidieas when I meet him.
Thursdays are good, they as well sweet palatableness minus the grainly texture. Leaves are so good. Changing leaves.. did anyone take a moment to conisder the lame and one-dimensional complexity of that title? Seeds were spit. Now it settles in. The sound of settling is probably leaves whirring about and then eventually resting in their place, wherever that may be.
I'm not really tired. I've lived a lot today. I did well on my math quiz. I barely zoned out during the guest speaker in biology who had a bunch of curious bandages on his face. Chemistry was not bad, and English was amusing. SUSH involved saying "yes" with a pseudo-smile and Spanish was the class realizing my intellectual hierarchy amidst their supidity. I'm sick of sounding like this. I get in these gramatical phases where I write/speak like Austen, which isn't necessarily a bad thing, because Austen is good. Me as Austen may be completely self-enriching, and within saying that I kindof have to disregard the wellbeing of any potential readers and simply offer a pathetic: sooorry.
Look at the leaves. They're great. I've found some great views today. I didn't explore to the full extent but I did become humiliated (I can't think of a word to describe "embarassed" to a lesser degree, which is what I actually experienced) by both a Knead employee and an inquistive black dog. I'm still here, though. And my face hurt from smiling, which has meant good things in the past, and will probably never discontinue from being so. Having typed all this, I had better go visit my covers and look forward to the goodness of Friday!
leesah-likes at 10:35 p.m.