Wednesday, December 31, 2008

The Ball Was In My...

There was a time when
We used to play ball,
Many afternoons spent
Of you driving one out
And me hitting air
I blamed my bat
But I was okay
There was always tomorrow
We never ran out of balls.

In the summer
Dodgeball came ‘round
You couldn’t hit me
I was swift like a bird
(Wait a minute)
You hit me a few
It hurt like hell
But everything was fine
And I was all right.

Four o’clock, every day
The court was our place
I never ran so much
Yet you kept me at bay
Your control of the ball
Almost too fluidic
I had no chance
Still, I had fun.

These later days,
Now that you’ve left
Something is missing
Emptiness leaves me sore
Nothing’s challenging anymore
And these new kids here?
They do their own thing.

--Ryan Viloria

Monday, December 29, 2008

The Sentiment

One of the most wonderful things about poetry is its versatility. Experimentation with various forms often makes a jumble. The trick is to make the jumble seem as if it were intentional. Such is the same with inspiration, since the foundation of poetry is emotion. There hasn't been an emotion in human history that hasn't been covered in some way, shape, or form through poetry, and seeking to link inspiration and emotion with new avenues of expression is never a sure bet, but it's always fun to do nonetheless.

Below is my experimental poem inspired by Shawn Wong's novel American Knees. The poem is open to criticism (after all, it IS experimental), and I'm happy to say that it's the inaugural creative writing piece for this blog.

The Sentiment

As we looked ahead
I walked toward you
Purposely mumbling so you couldn’t hear
So I would have an excuse to lean next to you
Your back covered my arm
I nestled on you, mouth to ear
You nestled back, your waist and my hand met
A brave thing you did, I didn’t fight back
You turned to kiss me, pulled me close
The dessert that was a kiss under your left ear…

Later, in two years, our lists
were made in anger and on the spot
rules in our minds always existed but only declared now

Throw away old t-shirts if:
1. They're stretched beyond recognition
2. There are holes in the armpit, chest, or back areas
3. You haven’t worn them since high school
4. It's your own personal roll of tissue paper
5. You’ve never worn them. The graphics are too damn ugly.

Throw away cosmetics if:
1. You’re allergic to it
2. It's crusted up
4. No, wait, 3. It’s not the same color it once was
4. You hate the color it is now
5. The bottle/box/tube is empty.

Disposed sentimental things;
Sacred items that would never be thrown
Except in fits of anger or despair
How the weight of objects dragged us down
Took away lift, prevented forward motion
The weight of a first kiss
Will never be thrown away

--Ryan Viloria

Sunday, December 28, 2008

Encounter at Blogpoint

How to begin? As they say, starting is the hardest thing to do.

Welcome to Tilting at Treadmills, the idea-channel with which I'll share a variety of writing samples with two primary goals in mind:

1. To improve my creative writing through feedback and comments via an online workshop format.
2. To strengthen and reinforce the love of consistently writing several times a week

As is the nature of blogs in general, I am dependent upon open discussion and a free trade of ideas, comments, and witty retorts; I thrive on feedback either through smile or gritted teeth. Most of all, readers are my mirror, something that I can use not only to examine myself but also something to bounce ideas back. Now that I think about it, scratch that analogy: this blog is my mirror, but readers are the light.

With that said, I'll list my writing interests:
-Poetry (primarily prose)
-Short fiction and Novella excerpts
-Column: primarily politics, social justice, media, and pop culture
-The Sciences in Layman's Terms, aka "Look What I Learned From The Discovery Channel"
-Random mental flatulence (as is common in the Blogosphere)

Thank you for your time, and let's get ready for the ride.