<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8420265600281450588</id><updated>2009-05-10T22:29:12.447-07:00</updated><title type='text'>keithokc</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keithokc.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8420265600281450588/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keithokc.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Keithokc</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18391861748589017327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>7</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8420265600281450588.post-7543820989743739471</id><published>2008-05-03T11:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-03T11:26:16.184-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Yeats</title><content type='html'>Well this semester has come to and end. It has been a good one and this literature class has done a wonderful job of exposing me to what amounts to just a tiny sample of good written artistry. Yeats was an unexpected treat and after reading and and spending some time with &lt;em&gt;The Wild Swans as &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Coole&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt; I felt inspired to write my own nature themed &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;poem&lt;/span&gt; to close this class out........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nature&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is bright, my soul applauding life’s goodness and laughter&lt;br /&gt;Yet deep inside I know it’s a world of pretend&lt;br /&gt;Look inside&lt;br /&gt;The sparrows flee&lt;br /&gt;My life’s greatest dreams are buried in memories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snow cart wheeling downward towards destruction&lt;br /&gt;Feverishly consumed by a certain notion….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the end what is it that I am to believe?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Angels of truth bringing down a blanket of night&lt;br /&gt;Covering up secrets nestled in spite&lt;br /&gt;The awkward startled silence of a forest’s surprises…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My heart whispers and the wind answers back&lt;br /&gt;Groaning like the wisdom of a mountain’s passage&lt;br /&gt;The manifestations of my own creations&lt;br /&gt;Calling for some long lost member&lt;br /&gt;Open arms like cold empty winter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crisp open winter melts into spring&lt;br /&gt;The open frosted plains of perfect intentions&lt;br /&gt;That meander endlessly into excuses….&lt;br /&gt;Bask in the sunlight of my mornings&lt;br /&gt;Dawn blowing kisses to the dusk of yesterday&lt;br /&gt;And now sighs into the expanding possibilities of an ocean&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;~ Keith Johnson 2008 &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8420265600281450588-7543820989743739471?l=keithokc.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keithokc.blogspot.com/feeds/7543820989743739471/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8420265600281450588&amp;postID=7543820989743739471' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8420265600281450588/posts/default/7543820989743739471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8420265600281450588/posts/default/7543820989743739471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keithokc.blogspot.com/2008/05/yeats.html' title='Yeats'/><author><name>Keithokc</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18391861748589017327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11438108085503991117'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8420265600281450588.post-159543605431697617</id><published>2008-04-20T09:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-20T09:50:48.822-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Blake again</title><content type='html'>So as I was assimilating a web page for class, I decided to do one over Blake. His artwork was something I was unfamiliar with before now. He is an amazing painter, make that artist. The mystical elements of his work and the religious undertones make you ponder god and spirituality. Blake is really my new favorite person of the week, dead or alive.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8420265600281450588-159543605431697617?l=keithokc.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keithokc.blogspot.com/feeds/159543605431697617/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8420265600281450588&amp;postID=159543605431697617' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8420265600281450588/posts/default/159543605431697617'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8420265600281450588/posts/default/159543605431697617'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keithokc.blogspot.com/2008/04/blake-again.html' title='Blake again'/><author><name>Keithokc</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18391861748589017327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11438108085503991117'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8420265600281450588.post-7518952672406777847</id><published>2008-04-13T20:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-13T20:06:58.659-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Great Expectations</title><content type='html'>I have always loved this book from the first time I read it. Growing up in situations that really parallel Pip and his life, I found myself able to be lost in the story. I have always had great expectations, and I think that most people do. I think that the unspoken truth of this novel is that it is what you do with what your given that determines who you become.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8420265600281450588-7518952672406777847?l=keithokc.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keithokc.blogspot.com/feeds/7518952672406777847/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8420265600281450588&amp;postID=7518952672406777847' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8420265600281450588/posts/default/7518952672406777847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8420265600281450588/posts/default/7518952672406777847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keithokc.blogspot.com/2008/04/great-expectations.html' title='Great Expectations'/><author><name>Keithokc</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18391861748589017327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11438108085503991117'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8420265600281450588.post-9184733715390248594</id><published>2008-04-06T19:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-06T19:29:59.585-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Frankenstein</title><content type='html'>After reading Frankenstein I couldn't help but think of the people our society deems "creatures".&lt;br /&gt;I ponder the evolution of what is deemed the moral limit of science. When researching the story of Prometheus I was drawn to the relevance today. Prometheus meaning forethought, who stole fire from Zeus and then gave it to man before man was ready to handle its power. This is much like science today, cresting the limits of creation, not quite sure of its power. With our lack of ability to deal with race, sexual preference or even marriage, how can we think we are ready to deal with consequences and ramifications of what we are  presently creating in laboratories all over the world.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8420265600281450588-9184733715390248594?l=keithokc.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keithokc.blogspot.com/feeds/9184733715390248594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8420265600281450588&amp;postID=9184733715390248594' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8420265600281450588/posts/default/9184733715390248594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8420265600281450588/posts/default/9184733715390248594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keithokc.blogspot.com/2008/04/frankenstein.html' title='Frankenstein'/><author><name>Keithokc</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18391861748589017327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11438108085503991117'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8420265600281450588.post-4726970943709818785</id><published>2008-03-30T11:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-01T21:20:26.819-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Art imitating Art</title><content type='html'>Art is a reflection of self, turned inside out Art is what we are. Who are we? How do you define yourself? Lack of a deeper understanding of &lt;em&gt;your own &lt;/em&gt;personal perspective lends to an identity crisis. What can art mean if you have no meaning. What can art say to you if you have nothing to say. Art imitating art is how I see most people these days, a part of a trend that doesn't &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;exist&lt;/span&gt;, a pop culture conglomerate of other people's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;interpretation of who they think others think they should be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8420265600281450588-4726970943709818785?l=keithokc.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keithokc.blogspot.com/feeds/4726970943709818785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8420265600281450588&amp;postID=4726970943709818785' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8420265600281450588/posts/default/4726970943709818785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8420265600281450588/posts/default/4726970943709818785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keithokc.blogspot.com/2008/03/art-imitating-art.html' title='Art imitating Art'/><author><name>Keithokc</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18391861748589017327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11438108085503991117'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8420265600281450588.post-1898972048118390610</id><published>2008-03-16T21:43:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-16T21:49:16.413-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Blake</title><content type='html'>I was exposed to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;poetry&lt;/span&gt; of Blake this week and I like the optimistic undertones and that permeate his work. He has a nice blend of juxtaposed imagery and social &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;inconsistencies&lt;/span&gt;. I find his writing relevant, thought provoking and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;rhythmic&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8420265600281450588-1898972048118390610?l=keithokc.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keithokc.blogspot.com/feeds/1898972048118390610/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8420265600281450588&amp;postID=1898972048118390610' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8420265600281450588/posts/default/1898972048118390610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8420265600281450588/posts/default/1898972048118390610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keithokc.blogspot.com/2008/03/blake.html' title='Blake'/><author><name>Keithokc</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18391861748589017327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11438108085503991117'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8420265600281450588.post-9121081337105866775</id><published>2008-03-04T20:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-04T21:03:24.624-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Poetry</title><content type='html'>I love to read poetry,&lt;br /&gt;Not just for the romance of it,&lt;br /&gt;But for the hope that within those words,&lt;br /&gt;That are perfectly strung together,&lt;br /&gt;I might find apart of myself...&lt;br /&gt;That I have been longing to confirm,&lt;br /&gt;That little something inside myself ,&lt;br /&gt;That I had forgotten about,&lt;br /&gt;But always new was still there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is an excerpt of  a poem from one of my favorite poets... Nikki Giovanni, entitled&lt;br /&gt;"Cotton Candy On A Rainy Day"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't look now&lt;br /&gt;I'm fading away&lt;br /&gt;Into the gray of my mornings&lt;br /&gt;Or the blues of every night ....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems no matter how&lt;br /&gt;I try I become more difficult&lt;br /&gt;to hold&lt;br /&gt;I am not an easy woman&lt;br /&gt;to want&lt;br /&gt;They have asked&lt;br /&gt;the psychiatrists . . . psychologists . . . politicians and social workers&lt;br /&gt;What this decade will be&lt;br /&gt;known for&lt;br /&gt;There is no doubt . . . it is&lt;br /&gt;loneliness .....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If loneliness was a grape&lt;br /&gt;The wine would be vintage&lt;br /&gt;If it were a wood&lt;br /&gt;The furniture would be mahogany&lt;br /&gt;But since it is life   it is&lt;br /&gt;Cotton Candy&lt;br /&gt;   on a rainy day&lt;br /&gt;The soft sweet essence&lt;br /&gt;     of possibility&lt;br /&gt;Never quite maturing........&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8420265600281450588-9121081337105866775?l=keithokc.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://keithokc.blogspot.com/feeds/9121081337105866775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8420265600281450588&amp;postID=9121081337105866775' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8420265600281450588/posts/default/9121081337105866775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8420265600281450588/posts/default/9121081337105866775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://keithokc.blogspot.com/2008/03/poetry.html' title='Poetry'/><author><name>Keithokc</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18391861748589017327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='11438108085503991117'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry></feed>