Is Analysis Poetry?

Poetry is…poetic.

Its word sway the mind of readers and call to the recesses of the mind not normally used to bring about the creative sense in all who are curious and delve into literature. Poetry is the escape from the worlds of equations, realism, and tough decision making many are accustomed to. It is, in it’s own way, a different world.

However, when some poetry comes across our paths, such as SCENE APPS from Buzzing Hemisphere, can an analysis be considered poetry?

Well, I suppose that’s on one’s perception of the work.

SCENE APPS in its own way is a mix of poetry and a study of art and how a particular piece in the Vienna Museum characterizes traits through the postures and movements of characters. It’s focused and fixated on on the details, yet it does use colorful dialogue in describing art, which in a way uses the poetic sense that Buzzing Hemisphere has shown before in other pieces; along with bits in between that has short paragraphs of random words connected with one another.

It’s hard to say when an analysis is just an analysis and when the line between that distinction is blurred into poetry. Is just simplistic observation considered just that? Even when describing art, which is one of the cornerstones of creativity? Or is analysis truly poetry, but in a more stricter sense upholding tighter rules? After all as long as analysis uses pretty words to describe a situation for what it is, isn’t that the very same as poetry? Painting an image for the reader to imagine in their own mind? The only thing that somewhat defines them as different is that one medium is used on a more sociable level while the other is used for more academic purposes and study. Yet even we study poetry in classes and are taught by professors? Is there truly a distinction that can be made?


A junction of two nerve cells, consisting of a minute gap across which impulses pass by diffusion of a neurotransmitter.

Junction. Connected. Together. The same?


Do I Have the Time?


It is a question someone hears every now and again. A conversation starter, a way for people to push themselves into someone else’s world or simply a distraction for another idea trying to take shape and form. It’s simplistic and can have really only a flexible and simplistic answer outright, but in Tram 83 there’s more to these words than just a question being repeated every couple of chapters that some may just not be seeing.

It can be a simple and literal question, however thinking deeper about the words themselves as a reader gives all sorts of ideas in mind considering the topic of the book.

Do I as a viewer from behind what could be a window, have the time to worry about these character situations and plights? Even if it doesn’t concern me at all and isn’t real?

Do I have the time to stop and think about what one character said something pages ago to fully understand why another character is saying something else?

Do I have the time to give Tram 83 a chance to tell it’s story before I deem it uneccesary and forget about it in the back of my mind?

Do I have the time to continue reading this story that perceives its own vision of blackness in Africa through jazz, boozing and uncontrolled activities when I myself don’t agree with it?

I am sure I do in fact have that kind of time. After all I am reading a story, rather than seeing this happen right in front of me and in the moment. However, the question isn’t whether or not I have the time?

But will I, or anyone else, give their time away to something they don’t know about.


There’s Nothing Wrong With a Little Change

Change is not something got fear. Change is not something to question. Change

Change is just…change.

It helps you look at something in a different light. It brings out experiences you could never have thought possible. And for some, such as Utopia’s Alaa, the ability of change and trying something is what helps fight against the boredom of paradise.

For Alaa, that change is to venture to the world of poverty stricken land and obtain a physical, human limb as trophy for his venture. For many it’s a disgusting thought to think about even believing in, but to those people who cringe at the words alone, is Alaa really in the wrong for such an idea? After all, it’s not so different from what most people do.

Take for instance, an apple.


Just like Pikachu above, you love apples. They are red, sweet, juicy and oh so yummy. You eat them every day, however, you start to notice that as time goes on the flavor of the apple doesn’t tingle your tastebuds as much. You don’t feel that fun rush of enjoyment when eating it and you even start to feel a sense of putting it down before even finishing it. You’ve eaten apples for so long that you’re starting to get sick of eating them; a thought you never believed would cross your mind.

How do you fix this? Do you stop eating apples? Try to less of them despite loving them so much? Or, do you try something different?

Make a change.


Do something you wouldn’t have tried before with an apple. Pair it with another fruit. Dip it in honey. Eat it along with some tea or bake it to add some flavors that some would never think of putting in their mouths. Yet, you enjoy it and now you can eat your favorite fruit all over again as much as you’d like thanks to this change. It has pushed away the fear of becoming bored and brought back a small rush of pleasure to your life.

Now, adding some special twist to apples and cutting off a persons’s limb as a trophy might not be the same kind of thing, but they hold the same principle, don’t they?

You, or someone else, was threatened with becoming bored with something in your life, so you made a change that might be normal for some, but drastic to others like yourself.

Alaa, on the other hand, lived in a literal utopia. His fancy and peaceful life was becoming plainly clear. So what did he do?

Just as Alaa says himself, “But I found a way” (Tawfik 10).

He found his “honey” or his “spices” to change that.


“Part One: Predator.” Utopia, by Ahmed Khaled Tawfik, pp. 1–161.

“tenor1.”, 20AD,

“tumblr_mhcqgvRYf71rouwdqo1_500.”, 6 Nov. 2017,

19 Lessons From 19 Ways

When someone hears the word, translate, various ideas pop into their head as to what that kind of word means. For some, translation is a literal term that means to convert something in one language into an exact copy of the meaning in another language. For others translation is a simpler term that can allow somewhat more creative freedom to translators. Instead of being an exact copy of the meaning, words can be played with and loosely used to make a similar, but all around understanding meaning in another language. Just as long as an audience from one country translated to another can understand it, figuring out the complications between the two shouldn’t be a challenge.

In this debate on what translation should mean in the modern world today, about any literary mind will have their opinion and pick a side on the matter. However, in the case of the piece, Ninteen Ways of Looking at Wang Wei, the entire book can be a message to writers that translation is an art unique to everyone. While some who comment the changes of Wang Wei’s poem through translations, such as Eliot Weinberger on page 13 when noticing the “Dull, but fairly direct…” changes made through translation, the careful wording and craftsmanship is not something to be lost due to lack of copying word for word.

Each entry is a completely unique sense of how a single poem can be translated and given it’s own meaning and understanding. The walls that surround the original piece by Wang Wei are broken by these translations, giving them life and chances to be discussed rather than be confined in the cages of the original work. Whether someone’s opinion is to stick to strictly word by word translation or adaptability with the use other words that are similar, Nineteen Ways of Looking at Wang Wei tells readers and potential translators that it’s okay to try something else. Nineteen Ways is just ninteen lessons of trying something differently.