Our Final Workshop

Repeating the sentiments of everyone else, I too am surprised that the end of our semester is nearing. How is it possible that we only have one week of classes left? The real question is, however, should I be cynical about the pace of time, or is it something irrelevant? In essence, how much time do we waste with time? I heard (in a recent presentation) that indigenous tribes in Africa do not measure time, or age for that matter.
I enjoyed my workshop poems, mainly due to the preparation I made in advance. Since it is poetry month, I have been writing a poem a day, and the habitual practice of writing opens a wider channel for ideas. When it comes to an assignment, I already have several ideas incubating, and the difficult choice is to choose which to develop. Just as a teaser, I wrote a slam poem and a call/response (echo?) piece that is separated by several thousand years. Specifically, their are two voices in one poem, albeit a bit different from the hemistich we constructed in class.
Ars poetica will be a challenge, for I find it difficult to separate genuine thoughts from the lessons we have gleaned from class. It is my goal to introduce original "qualities" of poetry, rather than restate what we have affirmed in class.