Monday, July 02, 2007
Poetry Train: Trevor's First Poem
The views expressed here belong to the fictional character of Trevor Wolff, not of the blog owner. For the most part.
I'm sitting here
Candle burned down to a stub
No feather quill or other romantic-assed writing thing.
Just a pen.
That skips.
Cheap-assed thing.
I'm a poet.
I call on my angst.
Now wait a minute.
Who made that rule about poets and angst?
Did anyone ever stop to think about angst?
That it's for losers.
Jerks who're afraid to get over themselves and live life.
Who have to hide in their pretend misery
Or else they're not cool.
And God help 'em if they smile.
But of course, they can't believe in God.
I don't, either.
Don't, not can't.
See the difference?
That doesn't stop me from taking in
What Eric says is God's making.
There's a lot of fun in living
-- even more fun in loving.
Smart people know this.
I'm smart.
Even though I'm writing a fucking poem
Like some wuss, a romantic with styled long hair
And those poofy sleeves that catch on fire whenever you reach over the candle's flame
'cause you like things hot.
Playing with fire's one thing.
It's good.
Catching on fire's another.
It's bad.
I don't have to try that one to know the truth of it, thankyouverymuch.
I'm writing a fucking poem
Like some over-eager kid in an English class.
Which I'm not.
English class was boring as hell
And the teacher always buttoned her sweaters to her chin.
I bet they'd have been fun to unbutton.
And teach her how to live.
I'm Trevor Fucking Wolff.
My band rules the Earth
And I can write a poem when I've got to.
No angst allowed.
No losers allowed, either.
But willing English teachers?
C'mon in.
More from RP, our Roadie Poet, in the next few weeks. Happy Canada Day (a day late) to our friends in Canada and upcoming Fourth to my fellow Americans! I hope you guys are all finding books for the Summer's Hidden Treasures contest; it's a doozy.
I'm sitting here
Candle burned down to a stub
No feather quill or other romantic-assed writing thing.
Just a pen.
That skips.
Cheap-assed thing.
I'm a poet.
I call on my angst.
Now wait a minute.
Who made that rule about poets and angst?
Did anyone ever stop to think about angst?
That it's for losers.
Jerks who're afraid to get over themselves and live life.
Who have to hide in their pretend misery
Or else they're not cool.
And God help 'em if they smile.
But of course, they can't believe in God.
I don't, either.
Don't, not can't.
See the difference?
That doesn't stop me from taking in
What Eric says is God's making.
There's a lot of fun in living
-- even more fun in loving.
Smart people know this.
I'm smart.
Even though I'm writing a fucking poem
Like some wuss, a romantic with styled long hair
And those poofy sleeves that catch on fire whenever you reach over the candle's flame
'cause you like things hot.
Playing with fire's one thing.
It's good.
Catching on fire's another.
It's bad.
I don't have to try that one to know the truth of it, thankyouverymuch.
I'm writing a fucking poem
Like some over-eager kid in an English class.
Which I'm not.
English class was boring as hell
And the teacher always buttoned her sweaters to her chin.
I bet they'd have been fun to unbutton.
And teach her how to live.
I'm Trevor Fucking Wolff.
My band rules the Earth
And I can write a poem when I've got to.
No angst allowed.
No losers allowed, either.
But willing English teachers?
C'mon in.
More from RP, our Roadie Poet, in the next few weeks. Happy Canada Day (a day late) to our friends in Canada and upcoming Fourth to my fellow Americans! I hope you guys are all finding books for the Summer's Hidden Treasures contest; it's a doozy.
Labels: poem, Poetry Train, Trevor
Comments:
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"Who made that rule about poets and angst?
Did anyone ever stop to think about angst?
That it's for losers.
Jerks who're afraid to get over themselves and live life.
Who have to hide in their pretend misery
Or else they're not cool."
I've always thought so too. Trevor - sigh...so insightful, even when he's being a smartass. grin!
Did anyone ever stop to think about angst?
That it's for losers.
Jerks who're afraid to get over themselves and live life.
Who have to hide in their pretend misery
Or else they're not cool."
I've always thought so too. Trevor - sigh...so insightful, even when he's being a smartass. grin!
That was actually the part that gave me the most willies. I can see a LOT of people being offended by that, regardless (or perhaps because of) the truth in it.
Lol! I loved this. I also liked the part about angst. It was great, and so telling about Trevor's character. Both his philosophy of life and the fact that *maybe* he's holding his own emotions at a bit of a distance.
Great work SHG, glad to be back blog hopping today!
anna j. evans
Great work SHG, glad to be back blog hopping today!
anna j. evans
This Trevor poem is fantastic. And, as rhian already pointed out, the angst section is particularly insightful.
This also made me think - who writes most of the lyrics for the band? To some extent there seems to be a connection between writing poetry and writing lyrics (or not?).
This also made me think - who writes most of the lyrics for the band? To some extent there seems to be a connection between writing poetry and writing lyrics (or not?).
Hey - don't worry about offending people. You're a Rockin Girl Blogger. I think the Poetry Train riders can take anything.
I loved this:
"No feather quill or other romantic-assed writing thing.
Just a pen.
That skips.
Cheap-assed thing."
And: "a romantic with styled long hair
And those poofy sleeves that catch on fire whenever you reach over the candle's flame
'cause you like things hot.
Playing with fire's one thing.
It's good.
Catching on fire's another.
It's bad."
Hope Trevor has more poems lurking around inside him.
I loved this:
"No feather quill or other romantic-assed writing thing.
Just a pen.
That skips.
Cheap-assed thing."
And: "a romantic with styled long hair
And those poofy sleeves that catch on fire whenever you reach over the candle's flame
'cause you like things hot.
Playing with fire's one thing.
It's good.
Catching on fire's another.
It's bad."
Hope Trevor has more poems lurking around inside him.
I love this:
I'm Trevor Fucking Wolff.
My band rules the Earth
And I can write a poem when I've got to.
Trevor, you rock, hon!!! =)
I'm Trevor Fucking Wolff.
My band rules the Earth
And I can write a poem when I've got to.
Trevor, you rock, hon!!! =)
Like some wuss, a romantic with styled long hair
And those poofy sleeves that catch on fire whenever you reach over the candle's flame
HAHAHA!
Good anti poem!
And those poofy sleeves that catch on fire whenever you reach over the candle's flame
HAHAHA!
Good anti poem!
I was going to say the same thing everyone else did about angst. ;)
I loved all of it. I wanted to point out a few more funnies that others hadn't yet. :P
"Playing with fire's one thing.
It's good.
Catching on fire's another.
It's bad.
I don't have to try that one to know the truth of it, thankyouverymuch."
LMAO
"I'm writing a fucking poem
Like some over-eager kid in an English class.
Which I'm not.
English class was boring as hell
And the teacher always buttoned her sweaters to her chin.
I bet they'd have been fun to unbutton.
And teach her how to live."
"No angst allowed.
No losers allowed, either.
But willing English teachers?
C'mon in."
ROFL
Thanks Trev! I loved it!
Susan you need to let Trev out a little more to write poems.
I loved all of it. I wanted to point out a few more funnies that others hadn't yet. :P
"Playing with fire's one thing.
It's good.
Catching on fire's another.
It's bad.
I don't have to try that one to know the truth of it, thankyouverymuch."
LMAO
"I'm writing a fucking poem
Like some over-eager kid in an English class.
Which I'm not.
English class was boring as hell
And the teacher always buttoned her sweaters to her chin.
I bet they'd have been fun to unbutton.
And teach her how to live."
"No angst allowed.
No losers allowed, either.
But willing English teachers?
C'mon in."
ROFL
Thanks Trev! I loved it!
Susan you need to let Trev out a little more to write poems.
As a poet who writes some angst, (a lot?), I took no offense, but laughed whole heartedly through Trevor's poem. It was, despite himself, a poet's poem (well, this poet, anyway). Just tell Trevor, please, that angst can actually be fun to write, and most of us also write amusing poems at times as well, besides someone has to write for losers, we can't all be f'ng brilliant success stories. (Did I just type that? Oops, the other side of my personality is showing. Oh well.)
I wanted Roadie to write, but I am so glad Trevor did instead.
I wanted Roadie to write, but I am so glad Trevor did instead.
a poem after a former young guys heart, well except for the angst, I am of the 90s, we reveled in angst.
This is great. Thanks for the laughs. "But willing English teachers?" I don't suppose now would be the time to mention that I almost was an English teacher? (3 classes and a thesis shy of a Masters).
Trevor: angst, like anger, is just one of the many doorways to understanding and insight. some people do tend to get stuck in the doorway on their way through. But at least they knew, like you, there was a door and something worth discovering on the other side. anyone who gets stuck in a doorway is a looser only in the sense they are loosing out on the joys of discovering who they really are, which is the only way anyone can 'get over themselves'.
the fact that you don't know that you are already a poet shows you are stuck too. it's got nothing to do with billow sleeves, hairdos or candles...and everything to do with fire.
but i'm almost afraid you might actually get this someday...and then where would The Shapeshifters be without the poetry of your rage?
Susan: hide those candles from him before he takes it into his head to use one to melt someones buttons off.
so let him keep the pen and paper tho. better he writes his poems that way rather than with a needle on someones skin with only ice for anesthetic.
sorry for taking it upon myself to lecture Trevor. it must be that repressed "English Teacher" in me.
the fact that you don't know that you are already a poet shows you are stuck too. it's got nothing to do with billow sleeves, hairdos or candles...and everything to do with fire.
but i'm almost afraid you might actually get this someday...and then where would The Shapeshifters be without the poetry of your rage?
Susan: hide those candles from him before he takes it into his head to use one to melt someones buttons off.
so let him keep the pen and paper tho. better he writes his poems that way rather than with a needle on someones skin with only ice for anesthetic.
sorry for taking it upon myself to lecture Trevor. it must be that repressed "English Teacher" in me.
Wow, all us English teachers (past, present, and almost) are coming out of the woodwork!
When Trevor's Song comes out, you'll learn what Trevor does with all his angst. No, no more piercing ears with only an ice cube for anesthetic (poor Mitchell...). But most definitely not what you're expecting, either.
When Trevor's Song comes out, you'll learn what Trevor does with all his angst. No, no more piercing ears with only an ice cube for anesthetic (poor Mitchell...). But most definitely not what you're expecting, either.
Yeah, I taught English for 12 years. Those Trevor types, they like the girls who look prim and studious, because they like being the only one who really knows what they're like in the bedroom. ;)
Sorry I'm a bit late, but I just had to say...
Man oh man, whatta helluva great poem.
I loved the whole freakin' thing, but I particularly loved...
Playing with fire's one thing.
It's good.
Catching on fire's another.
It's bad.
I don't have to try that one to know the truth of it, thankyouverymuch.
and
No angst allowed.
No losers allowed, either.
But willing English teachers?
C'mon in.
Trevor, you male minx, you. :-D
Man oh man, whatta helluva great poem.
I loved the whole freakin' thing, but I particularly loved...
Playing with fire's one thing.
It's good.
Catching on fire's another.
It's bad.
I don't have to try that one to know the truth of it, thankyouverymuch.
and
No angst allowed.
No losers allowed, either.
But willing English teachers?
C'mon in.
Trevor, you male minx, you. :-D
# posted by 
: July 04, 2007 3:22 AM
: July 04, 2007 3:22 AM
Hi, Susan. I stopped back to catch up some, but when I saw the link to Trevor's first poem, HAD to re-read his words... If he were to have an autograph session -- I wouldn't want it anywhere on me, but on this poem, lot easier to see it up on my wall at my desk then trying to strain my neck to look down every day.
Have a smile filled day.
Marcia (MeeAugraphie)
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Have a smile filled day.
Marcia (MeeAugraphie)
# posted by : December 10, 2007 7:51 AM
: December 10, 2007 7:51 AM << Home
