Thursday, January 20, 2005

Poem of the Week

I wrote poetry quite often up until the age of 19 or so (when I got the fiction bug... or the keg party bug... or some such bug). My freshman year of college, I used to find it funny/cool to post the "Poem of the Week" on the front door of my room in the dormitories of SUNY Binghamton. One, called "Fuck the World," made it from my front door to a special place on my wall. It only caused me embarrassment once, when an enthusiastic tour guide caught me on the way back from the gym and asked if the group could see what a real "lived in dorm room" looks like. I recall standing in front of the poem so mothers and young children couldn't read this nihilistic screed.

The last couplet went something like:

His cheeks were rosy, gun in hand, as he sank to one knee
"Fuck the world!" he cried and shouted with glee

5 comments:

Anonymous said...

Aw, man, i thought we were gonna get the whole poem right there!

duke de mondo

www.mondoirlando.com

Staff said...

Hey Duke,

I'll see if I can dig it up and transcribe it...

(I'm getting to be an old man now -- just got an advance notice of my 10-year college reunion taking place in '06...).

Cheers ~~ EB

Temple Stark said...

You stole that from Robert Frost right?

:-)

I've got quite a few poems scrawled (and I mean scrawl - you haven't seen scrawl 'til you've seen my scrawl) on the back of envelopes and so forth.


I'm going to be reviving them on my blog andf io still have hopes for many of themem. From college days., From pre-college days. From post-college days.

Temple Stark said...

You stole that from Robert Frost right?

:-)

I've got quite a few poems scrawled (and I mean scrawl - you haven't seen scrawl 'til you've seen my scrawl) on the back of envelopes and so forth.


I'm going to be reviving them on my blog andf I still have hopes for many of them. From college days., From pre-college days. From post-college days.

Staff said...

Mr Stark -- Very much looking forward to reading your scrawls and screeds.

Update on finding Fuck the World: Haven't found it yet. I think it's in a pile of old poems I wrote in a several year period that included twenty or thirty sonnets. I'm not even sure if they're sonnets so much as fourteen-line poems that rhyme. Lot's of hideous and crass / faces like painted glass stuff, me thinks...