To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield

I think a poet lurks inside all of us. You can’t go through a single day without using a poetic device in everyday speech. Who doesn’t use a hyperbole in conversation? We always exaggerate stories that we tell. As the old saying goes, the fish gets bigger every time the story is told.

I don’t fault anyone for sitting down and trying to pen words that have meaning to them. But I do not understand the esteem to which some poems are held in regard to their contribution to literature. Some poets and authors write beautifully; each word crafted to fit in a certain place and have a certain meaning, while others are downright obscure.

But I take issue with what defines a “great” poem, partly because I don’t know what makes a great poem. It is something you know when you read it and not based on guidelines that critics have made up. Check this out.


so much depends
upon

a red wheel
barrow

glazed with rain
water

beside the white
chickens


Written by William Carlos Williams in 1923, this is one of the first poems that popularized the Imagist style in modernist poetry.

Literary critics hail this as a groundbreaking poem in modernist poetry but I really don’t understand what the big deal is. Sure it’s poetic, it looks poetic but why the stature that comes attached with it? I consider it to be one sentence. If I knew more about the context of the day and studied other works of that era, maybe I’d have an appreciation for it.

In Flanders Fields - there’s a poem. Not only do you get the imagery of battle, but a rallying cry - “to you from failing hands we throw the torch, be yours to hold it high, if ye break faith with us who die, we shall not sleep.”

That evicts a powerful emotion, not just through the language, but the historical environment to what the poem references.

How about one of the most popular poems of all time?

The Tyger, by William Blake.

Written in quatrain this poem is full of imagery, allusion and meaning as it poses a question. What immortal hand or eye dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

This is one of my favorites for the above reasons. It is chock full of imagery - “burning bright, in the forests of the night.” It alludes to Milton’s Paradise Lost - “on what wings did he aspire? What the hand dare seize the fire?” And Blake eloquently muses over what kind of God would create an animal as perfect and fearful as a tiger.

In retrospect, this is not a very Christian poem, even though it does make a reference to God and the Lamb, when Blake asks, “did He who made the Lamb, make thee?”

Blake was a staunch atheist. He hated religious formulae. Yet he still included biblical references in this work.

The Tyger (yes, it’s ‘tiger’, but back in 1794 when it was written, tiger was spelled with a ‘y’) is a popular representation of poetry written in the romantic era.

I like the poets of old. Andrew Marvel, John Milton, Lord Byron and William Shakespeare. These are the poetic titans of their eras. Modern poetry just doesn’t have the lyrical quality they did. Their works have lasted through the ages and are still being studied. Scholars are still arguing over some of the content in The Tyger and what it means.

Free verse just doesn’t do it for me. There has to be structure for me to appreciate a poem. A rhyme and reason, if you will - no pun intended. Sonnets are a great example. Shakespeare’s Sonnet 18 is one of my favorite pieces of literary writing.

I guess one could call me old fashioned. Poetry has evolved along with the english language and I’m still stuck in old days, appreciating that which has passed on by. But I believe some things are timeless.

Finding "New" Music

I really like music.

Whether listening or playing it, I believe it is safe to say that I am a music junkie.

My introduction to music began at a young age, although most of what I remember in the beginning are abstract images and sounds of my mother finger picking on her acoustic guitar. 

This introduction never led to prolonged lessons as my father was keen on getting his boys into sports at a young age - I went into soccer, hockey and eventually, tennis. I did, however, manage to sneak in one year of keyboard lessons before our family moved to another city.

My first real cognitive memories of appreciating music involve playing in our living room when I was seven or eight as dad blasted Van Halen over these two large cabinet speakers. I cannot say I understood the lyrics but then, I was more interested in hearing the sounds of the guitars, drums, synthesizers and vocals work in unison.

I found the likes of Van Halen and AC/DC to be loud and abrasive but it was a change from Rafi and "Wheels on the Bus..." At that age, its hard to critique lyrical content for obvious reasons, but there was something appealing about those loud and edgy guitars.

The first band I began to follow and listen to outside of my dads music collection was the legendary Christian rock group, The Newsboys. My friend had invited me over to his house to listen to their new record, Going Public (1993), and I thought it was the greatest thing since sliced bread.

When we moved to a different city in 1996, we got satellite TV which had, literally, 999 channels - some were dead air but a hundred or so were devoted to music. This really opened up the world of music to me and I began to sift through all the genres to create my own music identity.

I never really formed attachments to bands at that time - I fed of singles from hits like "She's So High" from Tal Bachman and "Get Ready for This" by 2 Unlimited and so fourth. I tuned into pop channels and listen to hits which formed the base of my musical identity.

The first CD I ever bought was Eiffel 65's Europop, a techno-pop record released in 1999 with the surprising hit "Blue Da Ba Dee." The record blew my mind because of the melodies that accompanied such engaging rhythms and beats. Later, once I gained an appreciation for lyrics, the song became highly annoying.

Once in high school, my tastes strayed from pop (depending on one's point of view) and I shifted over to bands like Green Day, Blink 182 and Red Hot Chili Peppers. I found punk to be an entirely different kind of music than what I was used to and I liked the frantic beats, yelling and heavy guitar work. From there, my musical interests evolved to hard rock and metal as I migrated to bands like Limp Bizkit, Papa Roach - as well as dabbling a bit in rap, particularly, Eminem.

During this transition I would look down on my dads music collection which featured The Beatles, Bob Dylan, Rolling Stones, CCR and other classic rock legends, and snub my nose at it. It was 'old' music and I considered irrelevant because it was created, in some cases, decades ago.

During my time in high school, I chose to go the band route and picked up the clarinet (insert joke here). I only stayed with it for a few years, until band became optional in senior high school. 

I then picked up the guitar.

It's an instrument I had been around for a long time as my mom has played for as long as I can remember but it wasn't until high school that I tried to learn how to play it myself.

I was all about the electric guitar. I wanted to shred it up and do blazing solos like those I heard over the stereo. However, I was (and still am) too impatient to sit down and practice my scales to accomplish such a feat. So I stuck to rhythm guitar and learned how to strum really well.

I went and learned pop songs and punk songs on my guitar - simple three chord stuff from Blink 182, Green Day and so forth. I liked to crank up my amp as loud as my parents could stand it and play back "All the Small Things". Needless to say, my practice sessions never really lasted all that long.

Fast forward a few years. I went to a place called Malibu on the mainland coast in the summer of 2003 when I was 16 and dedicated my life to God at the end of the trip. 

My conversion encompassed a genre of music I had never encountered - worship music.

It was probably at that point where I had a musical epiphany. Up to that point, my enjoyment of music was centered on the music - melodies, harmonies and beats. Lyrics were always something I never pondered over or put much stock into when I scoped out new bands.

I remember staring at my record collection and seeing bands that had language in their lyrics that I was suddenly not comfortable with. All those 'f-words' that had previously been background noise to me began to jump out with stark clarity. Now, this doesn't mean that I picked up my record collection and tossed it or lost respect for the artists; I just realized I wanted to to hear music with some kind of message and meaning.

I went full circle and journeyed back to one of the first bands I discovered outside of my parents: The Newsboys. Through church, I attended Youth Conference (YC) in Edmonton where I was exposed to the creme de la creme of Christian rock and worship. I gobbled up the music of Audio Adrenaline, Thousand Foot Krutch and Kutless with abandon and moved on to harder Christian metal like Pillar, Disciple, Flyleaf and...my favorite Christian band...Red.

Getting back to my adventures learning guitar - I began to play less and less frequently as I wanted to play loud rock and metal but the parents didn't understand that rock and metal can only be practiced and played loud. I began to play less and less because as soon as I tried to play loud, I would be told to be quieter, which just isn't possible if you're trying to play Audio Adrenaline.

As I mentioned before, my mum plays the acoustic guitar and hers is a beautiful Larivee model. You pick it up and pluck or strum a few strings and it just sounds so right . No buzzing on the frets, clean harmonics - it really is the sound of perfection. Even though I was a rocker at heart - it is impossible to deny how beautiful her acoustic sounded.

Playing the electric all the time eventually became tedious and I hated the hassle of plugging my electric guitar into my amp to play a few chords before my parents would tell me to shut it down. I naturally began to experiment with another acoustic guitar that we had because of it's quietness and easy portability.

I began to find new bands that featured the acoustic guitar - bands like Goo Goo Dolls, Jack Johnson and Dashboard Confessional (naw, I ain't ashamed) to try and learn their songs. I also enjoyed the depths of their lyrics, especially the Goo Goo Dolls - I think Johnny Rzeznik is one of the best songwriters I've ever heard. 

This new awakening in both music and lyrical analysis allowed me to break down my prejudice on the timelessness of music. In my my quest to find acoustic musicians, I stumbled across a 'new' gem. Bob Dylan.

Where do I start? Without a doubt, Dylan is the greatest singer/songwriter to ever grace the face of this earth. John Lennon was a genius, Neil Young is incredibly talented, but no one comes close to Dylan. His work and legacy will live on forever. 

In the 1960's, Dylan's music was one of the cornerstones and drivers of the peace movement. I find that quite a bit of his material is applicable today because I believe our generation feels marginalized - as did his - but that is for another post.

The lyrical content alone reflects imagery and social problems of the day - poetic devices and language that you just don't see in today's pop music. In my opinion, this has led to the rise in the indie music scene, which is great.

My introduction to Dylan drew me to other musicians of that era such as Neil Young, John Fogerty of CCR, Bruce Springsteen and the Rolling Stones - all of which are a core foundation in my dad's collection and I now listen to them constantly. 

It's funny how things go full circle.

Getting with it...

Hello. My name is Trevor Crawley and I have an addiction.

They say the first step to recovery is admitting that you have a habit, but I cannot say for sure what my addiction is because I do not know how to categorize it and classify it. 

This habit has become all-consuming, raging through my veins and overloading the firing of my synapses. The craving strikes me down, teasing me, distracting me, pulling me away from daily routine in all hours.

This addiction is not something to deny and suppress. Rather, it is meant to be harnessed and developed in a constructive manner.

One can flail aimlessly about as they drown in an ocean of detail and formulae if they let the craving take over. The need can be insatiable and there are pitfalls everywhere.

I am addicted to writing.

I am so addicted, I decided to follow a career in journalism.

It has been a trying fight, I must admit, to battle this writing addiction and channel it into comprehensive prose. I fought the temptation for so long to set one of these things up - I do a lot of writing for college classes, anyway.

The realization that I was putting to waste a valuable resource woke me up to the fact that there is no such thing as too much writing. Like a musical instrument, crafting words and constructing sentences is an art where mastery spans a lifetime.

Ever since starting formal journalism training, I have learned a few things about writing. Journalists are observers; repeaters of fact and storytellers who present information to readers (or listeners and viewers) so they can make an informed opinion.

I like the storytelling part the most.

I love stories - I love reading them, hearing them and telling them. Writing stories was the lure that made me swallow journalism hook, line and sinker. Stories are what keep the imagination active and have endless possibilities.

Journalists write as succinctly as possible. They have X amount of information to fit in Y amount of space. The challenge is get to the crux of the story in as few words as possible, as quickly as possible to avoid boring the reader.

I don't like that, but it's a necessary evil.

People are not interested in spending their precious free time reading long analytical pieces. They have bills to pay, a family to tend to and a workplace to serve. Journalists start by boiling down their articles into simple plain-Jane structures that lead readers from one element of the story to the next to maintain attention.

The basic rule of journalism is that all information presented must be attributed to a source. If information is not attributable, then journalists cannot print it. The days of "said an anonymous source" are over (at least in respected circles).

Journalism is very strict in that writers print fact. There is no room for speculation, exaggeration, or sensationalism. Which is necessary, but (to a point...) no fun.

Conquering proper journalism is a blend between factual and engaging storytelling. Every word is crafted to fit in the cosmic order and savored in context.

In regards to a writing addiction, I find that I can literally short circuit when I get bombarded with too much information. Detail can be a killer, bogging down the essence of a story when all a writer wants is to elicit an emotional response from the reader. 

There is no such defense for 'creative license' if journalists print material that are opinion in a news story. That argument does not fly. 

This is why I sometimes get into a tug-of-war between journalism and creative writing.

Creative writing allows you to be creative. The limitations of what you write are based on the boundaries of your imagination. And we all know that imagination has no limits.