Poetical

Science Is Fun; Work Harder

Posted by Jenni B. Baker on Nov 5, 2011 in Poetry | 0 comments

I want to be an astronaut;
it’s just so darn hard

all the Sputnik-like urgency,
the math-science death march

through a blizzard of calculus,
physics and chemistry,

trying to memorize equations
when it’s all about application.

The big question is how to keep
the momentum from dissipating,

hang on to the oasis of aspirations
in the dry and hard-to-get-through,

harvest the kinetic energy of dreams,
break the complex attrition of hope.

———-

Found poem from the New York Times article, “Why Science Majors Change Their Minds (It’s Just So Darn Hard).”

Yearbook (2002)

Posted by Jenni B. Baker on Oct 22, 2011 in Poetry | 0 comments

In honor of receiving an invitation to my 10-year high school reunion, a found piece from the messages people wrote in my high school year book. Each sentence comes from a different message.

—–

Well, holy crap.

Remember our quartet? Remember freshman basketball? Remember Florida? Remember not to marry your cousin. Remember, I don’t like fast women. Remember, don’t be a whore.

I will never forget the lunch table. I will never forget your willingness to listen to me, even when I just wanted to hit on you. I will miss you so much when you leave. I will try to visit you.

I had lots of fun in Winnipeg. Calculus was fun. It was fun being a nerd with you. It wasn’t so fun freezing to death playing tennis.

My academic hero! Thanks for the English arguments. I have always been jealous of how smart you are and wish I could be that intelligent.  I just can’t compete with you. You certainly made me look foolish on many occasions. Next year, try to relax.

I hope life treats you with the goodness that you deserve. I hope you meet a friend that is as sarcastic as I am. I hope we’ll meet again some time. I hope you meet your dirty Frenchman.

You are a good person. You’re such a nice person. You are an awesome person. You’re such a fun and sassy person. You’re a sweet and super smart person. You were always my favorite chemistry person.

Call me for any and all Saved by the Bell-related events. Sorry about the nose.

I Am Starting Up This Work Now in New York

Posted by Jenni B. Baker on Sep 25, 2011 in Poetry | 0 comments

Note: In the thick of reading through Kenneth Koch’s poems, I found myself uninspired by the drawn-out, occasionally rhyming poetry. I plugged on with this cento but it, too, is relatively uninspired (the blame mine!). But I’m releasing it into the ether regardless.

I’m writing in addition more lines to clarify my present disposition:

I am always in love, I am always suffering from love:
I love you fame I love you raining sun I love you cigarettes.

Is it you who fill me up so? Is it you who are carrying me away?
What do you think, heart? I do notice you are beating like anything!

When the body is excited, beauty is more evident.
I might want to look at you all day long, because you are mine.

It’s for you I’ve made this chanson. For you and that big dark blue.
Once you have heard this poem you will not love any other.

(I am sorry, but it was morning, and I had nothing to do).

Cento after Kenneth Koch
——

Lines taken from the following Kenneth Koch poems (in order):

• Bel Canto
• Talking to Patrizia
• In Love with You
• To Life
• To My Heart as I Go Along
• On Beauty
• To Various Persons Talked to All at Once
• Down at the Docks
• Fresh Air
• Variations on a Theme by William Carlos Williams

Please Know That I Am Fine

Posted by Jenni B. Baker on Sep 10, 2011 in Poetry | 0 comments

Found poem from the 9/11 narrative of Owen Burdick.

I was kind of numb yesterday,
soiled with debris, hair white with ash,
stir-crazy at not being able to help.

The worst is the recurring visions
of that building coming down
like a scene out of the movie “Die Hard”:

jets slicing through towers
upper floors engulfed in flames,
smoke billowing out in all directions

the tower falling straight down
like a giant accordion (people falling
or jumping as it crumbled)

the sound of crushing metal
thousands of splintering panes,
the deafening explosion,

wallets, briefcases and single shoes
floating within a dull, white foot-high ocean
of vaporized wallboard and glass.

I just keep seeing and hearing it
over and over: the maelstrom,
then the city strangely quiet,

the inches of ash and debris
deadening and muffling all sound
– the same effect as a snowstorm.

Osteology

Posted by Jenni B. Baker on Sep 5, 2011 in Poetry | 0 comments

Marrow fills up cylindrical cavities
in the bodies of the long bones;

blood vessels pass into minute orifices
through canals that traverse substance.

The intimately combined animal and earthly part
make it a hard structure of the adult body:

earthly matter confers its hardness and rigidity
while the animal matter determines its tenacity,

a degree of toughness and elasticity
pinkish-white externally and deep red within.

SOURCE: Henry Gray, Anatomy of the Human Body (http://www.bartleby.com/107/)