What's the meaning of success?

"To laugh often and much; To win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; To earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends; To find the best in others; To leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch, or a redeemed social condition; To know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived; This is to have succeeded." Ralph Waldo Emerson

Friday, September 3, 2010

Epic Poem

Everyone is to write one chapter. All work is due by 6 p.m. Monday. Chapters should be abut 100 words in the free form style we have noted in Bikeman.

From the handout (the complete document is on Blackboard)

Epic is a long poem which deals with the doings characters from either legend or history. It is generally war-like that involves multiple secondary characters, and also gods and spirits. The following five are the epic conventions:

1. Invocation to muse: An epic starts with a prayer or invocation. The poet asks the muse/god to help him in his great work usually one of the nine daughters of Zeus. States the theme of the epic.

2. Narrative opens in media res. This means "in the middle of things," usually with the hero at his lowest point. Earlier portions of the story appear later as flashbacks.

2. Homeric Simile: Compared to an ordinary simile, a Homeric simile is expanded to such an extent that it becomes an another poem within the poem. A standard simile is a comparison using "like" or "as." An epic or Homeric simile is a more involved, ornate comparison, extended in great detail.

3. Athletic Games/Contest: Epic has to offer this convention. Milton makes use of it in his Paradise Lost Book-2 where he describes the fallen angels arranging an athletic meeting.

4. Adventurous Journey: The hero of an epic poem makes a journey. Heavy use of repetition and stock phrases. The poet repeats passages that consist of several lines in various sections of the epic and uses homeric epithets, short, recurrent phrases used to describe people, places, or things. Both made the poem easier to memorize.

21 comments:

  1. I see only blackness now, my
    eyes apparently closed without my knowledge.
    I hear a dull roar, a pride of
    lions in the distance. I
    open my eyes, reluctantly, only
    to find that Jacksonville, indeed,
    scored another touchdown. I
    argue with myself as to whether
    I should even consider looking at
    the scoreboard. But I do...
    Thirteen to nil. I slump in agony,
    as I look around at the
    other spectators supporting Ole
    Miss around me. They are displaying
    on their faces what I feel in my heart.
    I look up to the heavens, pleading
    for help. "Please, Lord, why
    must you allow this to continue? Why
    must we suffer so?" I stop myself
    before I evoke tears, as the kicker
    for the Florida team lines up, preparing
    for his shot at a field goal.
    I run possibilities through
    my mind, but I cannot muster
    the strength to create
    a positive outcome for us...
    Now, sounds disappear, my sight freezes, as
    if the movie is too much for my
    feeble mind, time stops. It
    is painful for me...
    The ball, awaiting it's departure
    from the ground laughs
    mockingly at our side.
    I sit, watching, waiting...
    Waiting for the kick,
    waiting for the call,
    waiting for the goal,
    waiting...for the end...

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  2. The buzzer sounds loud and long.
    Slowly I realize the noise
    is my alarm telling me
    to get ready for class.
    It was just a dream.
    Today is only Friday,
    I remind myself.
    Walking to class, I already see
    preparations for Saturday.
    My mind is filled with
    memories from previous games
    and excitement for tomorrow.
    The Grove transforms on game day
    from quiet and peaceful
    to busy and entertaining.
    The dress code changes
    from Nike shorts and t-shirts
    to dresses and heels.
    Now we are students at Ole Miss.
    How will this game be different?
    Will it be the same
    as coming as an "outsider"
    or will it seem like
    a completely new experience?
    The people on the field
    are now our classmates and friends.
    Walking through the Grove
    is an everyday experience.
    Does this change anything?

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  3. The beer hat slips easily over my hair,
    it’s large reserves having been recently filled
    with sweet life-giving nectar
    known only to my collegiate brethren as “Natty Light.”
    I gather up my dearest possessions
    a pack of convincingly inconspicuous red plastic cups,
    a foam pad to protect my supple cheeks from injury,
    a framed and autographed picture of Masoli stealing from a child,
    and I store the items lovingly on the tailgate of my ’82 Chevy pickup.
    I look to the sky
    with a heart filled with hope
    and say a prayer to the god of all things pigskin-related
    -- John Madden.
    As I lay my head down to sleep this night
    I think only one thing:
    It’s Game Time.

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  4. The Grove, the most well-known place on campus,
    looks as if a bottle of white out has been spilled over all the green,
    snow on September 4th.
    Everyone is adorned in white as a symbol
    of support and Rebel Spirit.
    Supporters from hundreds of miles away fill this place
    with red and blue tents covering the achromatic atmosphere.
    There is a spirit
    that nobody can deny;
    so much anticipation and
    preparation has been put into this day.
    Groups of friends tent-hop,
    bumming drinks and socializing prior to
    the start of the game.
    We are all relaxed and confident-its
    just Jacksonville State after all.
    Victory would be an easy task
    for this battle, considering our mighty warriors.

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  5. The sun beats down
    Upon my tiring body
    Draining the remaining vestiges of energy
    From my morning meal
    So many tents surround me
    But none I can claim as my own
    I am frantic now
    Surrounded by the sweet aroma of home cookin’ all around me
    Yet unable to indulge
    As my spirit dwindles
    I hear a voice of grace
    “Can we join you?”
    It is my roommate, asking a random Grover
    Fro access to his tent
    The Grover’s response is immediate and lovely
    To my ears
    “Of Course”
    I think to myself
    “We are going to make it”

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  6. Approaching the stadium,
    I cannot help but be reminded of a coliseum
    Where warriors of old spilled each other’s blood for the amusement of Caesar
    Apprehension creeps over me as I move through the gate
    “Stop being stupid!” I say to myself
    “we’ll win this!”
    But memories of yesterdays dream come flashing back to me
    I look up from my internal struggle
    The stadium almost seems to move with the masses of people
    Waving flags and foam hands
    Showing with pride the colors of their school
    I can feel the music of the band and the shouts of the crowd reverberate through my whole body.
    This is it.
    This is what I came for.
    I nervously check my watch
    “five minutes ‘till game time”
    I say to no-one in particular
    The tension thickens until it seems a palpable substance
    Pressing in on us from all sides, suffocating us, drowning us.
    First game of the semester and expectations are high.
    We have to win, we have to!

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  7. As most prepare for the buzz and joy
    of the first contest of the season
    I prepare for quite a different day.
    For I will be caretaker of six children
    whilst their parents enjoy the excitement
    of game-day.
    It bothers me not, however.
    While many spent Ninety-Four dollars
    to see today's excitement,
    I am being paid one-hundred
    to miss it.
    Besides, I have help-
    I get to spend the day in the company
    of one I love.
    I see the game's conclusion,
    a disappointing one,
    yet I look at my day's pay
    and realize it's all okay.

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  8. Entering Vaught-Hemingway Stadium,
    eagerness floods over myself and
    thousands of others.
    Screams of "Hotty Toddy"
    roar throughout.
    A sea of red and blue
    surrounds me as I
    find my seat among hundreds
    of avid rebel fans.
    "Finally" I think to myself.
    The first football game of
    the season is here.
    Anxiety fills the air,
    as our team breaks onto the field.
    Again, an explosion of cheers
    rumble all around me,
    pulsing through the stadium,
    as if it has a heartbeat.
    Players line the field,
    preparing for the upcoming battle.
    Before I know it,
    the game is underway.

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  10. Bang! What a start.
    Less than two minutes into the game,
    and we have already drawn first blood.
    A quick jab in a gladiator fight to the death for the Rebels,
    as Stanley proves his worth,
    with a picture perfect forty-one yard pass
    to Melvin Harris for an Ole Miss touchdown!
    Immediately the student section erupts,
    "ARE YOU READY?!"
    Simultaneously, the crowd responds
    with the rest of the chant proclaiming who we are,
    "OLE MISS BY DAMN!"
    As soon as the crowd finally begins to settle down,
    Stanley again shows signs of becoming our new beloved hero.
    Ole Miss again wounds the Gamecocks' hearts,
    as Jesse Grandy waltzes past the goal line.
    Already it seems as if the Fates
    have put the Rebels in the winning column for the opening week.
    The future is bright for Ole Miss fans,
    as the hero, equaled to Achilles, has yet to set foot on the field.

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  11. All around me, the students of Ole Miss
    are united in their love of football.
    The aroma of Corky's Bar-B-Que Nachos filled the spirited air,
    like a sweet perfume.
    It seemed that nothing could taint this wonderful afternoon.
    Ole Miss is unstoppable.
    The thought of an easy win, drives my comrades and I
    to leave Vault-Hemmingway at half time.
    The grove seems to be the perfect place
    for a premature celebration.
    The blue and red sprinkles the green grass
    and the long branches of the oak trees welcomes us back
    with open arms, not knowing the tragedy unfolding in the stadium.
    Suddenly, ominous shrieks echo
    throughout the once joyful grove.
    What could ruin this most perfect day?
    A text from the inside: "The game is tied. We suck. Again."
    My feet in my high heels ache almost as much as my heart.
    Will my beloved team do the unthinkable
    or will Masoli be the hero that we need?

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  13. I allow my mind to wander
    to happier times
    when we triumphed,
    when the crowds still rejoiced.
    At halftime we lead by twenty one.
    As the band took the field
    we were confident of our impending victory,
    of our eminent first win
    The golden horns shouted joyously, and we sang
    with the music of the ages:
    songs about journeys
    songs about glory,
    but all the while a storm was brewing.
    In the visitor’s locker room a battle cry
    urging our enemy to retaliation was uttered,
    but we heard it not.
    We were busy, already celebrating
    the victory we knew was ours.

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  14. A phone call
    from my father lets me know
    the game is on.
    I rush home as fast as I can.
    As I enter my once so familiar home
    and see the players line up
    on the television screen,
    I feel a deep dagger in my side
    from the knowledge that
    I let my team down.
    I can't be there to support them.
    Like a wounded warrior,
    I must sit and wait.
    Wait for the battle to be over.
    Stranded in this land so far from my home,
    I yearn for the moment I finally cross this cement ocean
    to greet my Penelope
    who needs my support.
    This will not happen again.
    I will be there for my team.

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  15. Booooo!!! Booooo!!!
    The fans are yelling...
    throwing their hats, poms poms,
    and anything they can find to express their anger.
    A win or loss the reaction will stay the same.
    The battle is too close,
    and even though we could possibly
    still win, letting a smaller and weaker
    enemy push us around on our
    own territory is demeaning
    and embarrassing enough.
    We spectators try to stay positive,
    but watching in great hope
    we are dismayed and internally crushed
    at the sight of the other team
    running like a fast approaching
    thunderstorm across the Ole Miss logo in victory.
    Sitting in disbelief, the fellow fans around me watch
    in silence and disgust as if they had just been robbed.
    Walking back to the grove,
    I have the same reoccurring question as
    many: What in the world just happened?

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  16. Anger, disappointment, and humiliation
    They hit me all at once.
    You can see the bruises they leave on my face,
    They beat on me until I can do nothing but scream.
    I know what comes next,
    I have seen this happen before.
    My phone is an angry swarm of bees,
    Buzzing away menacingly in my pocket
    Pleading to be freed.
    But I will keep them caged,
    These bees show neither sympathy nor compassion,
    These bees mean to sting.
    I have never seen a graver scene,
    Than the Grove on that September afternoon
    I can only think of the one encouraging phrase
    That always rings true;
    “We may not win every game, but we never lose a party.”

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  20. The milling mass about me
    Of the beaten, and the stunned
    Spectators pouring forth from the stadium's mouths
    Tramples with ill humor
    Upon the Grove, as a quarter earlier they would
    fain
    have pounded
    underfoot
    The opposing endzone in mocking joyous dance.

    Dying far-off bars of Dixie
    Half-pierce the sylvan shroud above
    to reach our ears a twisted dirge.

    Where had we gone wrong? The question burned
    As I drank deeply of a plastic, red canopic jar
    My bitter flat libation.
    What superstition lacked its talisman,
    What ritual left unobserved?
    Perhaps our new arrival,
    The vanguard signal-caller from far-off Oregon,
    Just yesterday deemed suitable, and
    Anointed to play,
    Streaming in and out through the yard-line warp,
    A shuttle deftly guided by some dextrous Arachne
    To weave our triumphal banner,
    Somewhere in his zig-zag path
    The golden thread of victory had dropped,
    And brought us one and all to deadly rage.

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  21. everyone from far and wide
    texted to inform me,
    in case i was not yet aware,
    of the defeat over a tiny alabama team
    who we payed to play
    in order to make ourselves look good

    i ignored these messages from
    warriors from lsu, usc, and other far off places
    my comrades and i sat around,
    wondering if we had chosen the
    team of the defeated

    "we refuse to be losers" one of us cries
    and we know that next saturday
    blue and red will defeat the green and white

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