Everyday Canvas

Frankenstein, Unsentimental Poem, and Psychedelic Song

“If our impulses were confined to hunger, thirst, and desire, we might be nearly free; but now we are moved by every wind that blows and a chance word or scene that that word may convey to us.” ― Mary Shelley, Frankenstein
What do you think Shelley means by this quote? Do you agree or disagree?

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It is impossible to hear of Shelley and not recall her Frankenstein. I guess Shelley was talking through her monster who was saying he wanted to be human with human feelings, but he also realized that being human meant that he would have to become greater than what his bodily existence would allow and he wasn’t sure he could handle all those different meanings from words, objects, and events happening around him.

If I take the quote on its own merit and discard the monster, I’d probably agree with feeling free when our bodily needs are met; yet, I don’t think it bothers me to face the potential consequences of living a learned, thoughtful, and emotional life. In fact, I’d rather take anything meaningful instead of just being happy by having my physical necessities met.

Writing an unsentimental love poem or short story can be one of the more difficult endeavors a writer can take on, whether the subject of that poem/ short story is a lover, a family member, or friend. Taking inspiration from the popular film 10 Things I Hate About You, a modern retelling of Shakespeare's The Taming of the Shrew, write an ode to the aspects of a loved one that downright irk you. How might you use a form of repetition in your poem/ story--like an anaphora or refrain--to build tension and showcase either the unlikable or admirable aspects of this person? Let those creative juices go

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In my memory, Honey, you, of furtive steps, were the wolf
in sheep’s clothing, stunningly debonair though you were.
In my memory, Honey, about your chief concern, money,
you slipped and, that poor girl, your hunger captured her.

In my memory, Honey, she sensed your praise was fake
and you held a grudge; she could sniff those things out.
In my memory, Honey, she noticed, without doubt, your spite,
your malice, your groping in darkness and drought.

In my memory, Honey, you abandoned the mighty
through your ignited speech at the theater of demolition
In my memory, Honey, you really were the garbage
she threw out with gumption once she had the option.

That “he” is my ex-brother-in-law.

Prompt: "The Rain, The Park and Other Things." A song by The Cowsills. Write what you want about this prompt.

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Some songs point to reality, others to dreams. Psychedelic music is not my thing, but I can see how a young-man songwriter could dream of a flower girl in a park, after hearing the sound of the rain or imitating it with his instruments.

It is a fact that with some things we are sometimes not very sure whether they are dreams or reality. Lucid dreams, for example, are conscious experiences; yet, they still are dreams.

There may still be other experiences in life that are surreal, strange, weird, fantasy, illusion, things too bad to imagine, or things too good to be true. This brings to mind the kiddie song, “Row, row, row your boat,” which ends with “life is but a dream.”

Is life a dream? Can we truly know if we are awake or dreaming? In addition, can something be two things all at once together with all its components? Frankly, there is no logical basis to these questions even if they might have any valid answers.

By the same token, there is no logic in thinking in these terms, especially when I can just enjoy any moment regardless of which reality it is in. Then, all this doesn’t really matter because my mind doesn’t hang on to psychedelic anything.