Stoned with Difranco

I'll admit.. I didn't do my homework. But then this particular session wasn't wholly 'ordinary' by any standard.

Still, I'd have gotten around to Ani Difranco soon enough.

Every rebel without a cause needs a powerful, angry voice to sing her anthem. I've found more such singers and anthems than causes, in my life. There was a time when Alanis' violent rants would sum up my entire existence. I'd like to think that I've grown since then. Of course, I haven't.
Ani Difranco is the Alanis for your late 20's.

Tiptoe is the kind of slap across the face you need in the middle of a good day. Because however stubbornly pro-choice you are or you aren't, does anything mean anything when you're standing at the edge, whatever the view might be? Grant yourself a single moment of honesty, will you at least then accept that you don't know?

Asking too much.. is just that. This is the answer to the world's most abused question - "What do women want?" She splits the list quite neatly into the 'impossible, he'll never get around to it' and 'just very simply fucking listen!' - and it's the latter that is so often so forgotten..

if you hear me talking
listen to what i'm not saying
if you hear me playing guitar
listen to what i'm not playing
and don't ask me to put words
to all the silences i wrote
don't ask me to put words
to all the spaces between notes

And then the big one tumbles out..

in other words i want someone
who's not afraid of themself

Yeah, I'm probably asking too much.

Not a pretty girl is your typical mad feminist rant. Break through the stereotypes, destroy the preconceived image of the 'fair maiden', and question the disgusting idea of a 'damsel in distress'. But it's beyond just that. People (and not just men, mind you) who can't figure you out feel the need to first fix you and then place you in a box. A box that they know and understand, and are perhaps, not threatened by.

don't you think every kitten figures out how to get down
whether or not you ever show up

How bloody true.

Poe in Poetry

It was a pleasant surprise to discover Edgar Allen Poe in the world of poetry. I have always been deeply affected by his writing...if prose can do so much damage…imagine poetry! Well..I started out with Alone.

From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were; I have not seen
As others saw; I could not bring
My passions from a common spring.
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone;
And all I loved, I loved alone.

For someone belonging to too many different worlds, and feeling like an outsider in all of them, these words gave a strange sense of belonging. The first half of the poem certainly resonates with me. In the latter half, Poe refers to the “Dawn of a most stormy life” and says that the “demons” of his adult life can be connected back to his experiences during his childhood.

Having read the first half and connecting so well with it, I suddenly feel abandoned in the second half. Like for every verse that Poe wrote, he had one in his mind which he did not share with me…leaving me with words that promise meaning without delivering. This isn’t to question the merit or value of the poem to the poet, but I think the audience (by audience I refer to general public trying to read the poem rather than literature students, scholars and award winning writers) is justified if they feel slightly lost.

In my mind, the truly characteristic poem of Poe’s is The Raven. Poe’s capability of taking everyday things and making them spooky, whether in poetry or in prose, comes to the fore in this one. The incantation of “Nevermore!”, “Nevermore!” rings in your ears long after the words themselves have died down.

The poem has a rhythm about it…and somehow the rhythm builds up, along with quickening heartbeats, as the poem progresses. He has an uncanny way of building a sensation in the reader and slowly making it grow till it becomes unbearable. Not just while reading it…but long after. Reading this poem, as with much of Poe’s writing, I lost the boundary between me and the protagonist. And slowly it is I who is afraid…confused…in denial and finally frustrated and despairing. Of course, listening to the Christopher Walken recite the poem was absolutely gripping.

Over all, fantastic reading Poe in poetry form…just wish there were more along the lines of The Raven.