The sick Rose

The Sick Rose
by William Blake

O Rose, thou art sick!
The invisible worm
That flies in the night,
In the howling storm,

Has found out thy bed
Of crimson joy,
And his dark secret love
Does thy life destroy.

I dont know if i really like this poem. But i do like that there isnt just one solid concrete meaning to this poem. It could have several, and i mean several, meanings to it. This is the kind of poem that every person can take and apply to their own lives. For instance, when i read this poem i immediately thought of a man and a woman. It could be because i just got done watching eternal sunshine of the spotless mind, but i thought of the woman being the rose and that the man is the person who is kind of narrorating the poem. He is saying that there is this woman, a rose, who has been infected with a bug, which i think is either an illness or another man, because then in the second stanza he states that the worm has found the bed of crimson joy that is the roses heart i believe and the worm's dark love destroys the roses life. So either it is a man who has destroyed a woman's heart or it is a disease that had killed a woman. Either way to me that is really really sad. But it is a beautiful poem. I know that this blog was mostly about the content and less about the structure, but i havent done one about the content so much and all of them have been about structure, it just felt good to be creative and make observations and apply it to my own life, cause i need a little self medication right now i guess. Anyways, im mumbling.

Writing

Writing
by Jan Dean

and then i saw it
saw it all all the mess
and blood and everythink
and mam agenst the kichin dor
the flor all stiky
and the wall all wet
and red an dad besid the kitchen draw
i saw it saw it all
an wrot it down an eer work of it is tru

You must take care to write in sentences,
Check your spelling and your paragraphs.
Is this finished? It is rather short.
Perhaps next time you will have more to say.

First off I would like to say that this poem or account of a murder is probably one of the darkest poems i have ever read. I really like the way she wrote this though. I like the structure a lot, which has being appearing more and more throughout this new packet; the structure that is non-capitalized at all, it emphasizes the student and teacher dynamic that is being portrayed. I say this because at the end it seems like a teacher is editing her work. I also like the ebonics in the poem. One can really get a sense that they are listening to her talk about what she has seen and not just readin another poem. This is great because she is telling a story about her parents apparantly being killed. The thing that really throws me off is that the teacher is not paying attention at all to what the story is saying at all, the teacher is simply looking at all the grammatical and tecnical errors that she has made, she doesnt pay attention to the meet of the story, and she doesnt pay attention to wha the gurl is reely trying to say. It just goes to show that sometimes students are right about the teachers not paying enough attention to what we are really saying instead of just grading papers and labeling us with an a or f. Sorry that was a bit of a venting session right there, and you are not one of those teachers Mrs. White. :) Till nest time.

The Guitarist

The Guitarist Tunes Up Frances Cornford With what attentive courtesy he bent Over his instrument; Not as a lordly conqueror who could Command both wire and wood, But as a man with a loved woman might, Inquiring with delight What slight essential things she had to say Before they started, he and she, to play. As a guitar player myself I really really enjoyed how the author, Frances Cornford, portrayed the interaction between man and guitar. I like the structure of this poem the way that it is all one giant stanza makes it seem like Cornford is telling the audience a story. I would now like to break down the poem line by line. The opening line is used in a way that makes it seem as thought the man is bending towards a person, like taking a bow, but then the second line states that he bends over his instrument, slightly personifying the guitar. The then he puts in the semi-colon after the second line in order to establish a relationship between the man and his guitar. The lines after the semi-colon describe the relationship as one of love and endearment not of a "conqueror." The man cannot command the strings and the wood but rather speak to them softly as he might to a woman. I really like the personification because if one really does truly love music and love instruments they will treat them as a loved one, or as a romance. People love the music that an instrument can produce and therefore love the instrument. The poem is a beautiful depiction of a relationship many never realize exists.

Many red devils...mine?

Many red devils. . . by Stephen Crane Many red devils ran from my heart And out upon the page. They were so tiny The pen could smash them. And many struggled in the ink. It was strange To write in this red muchk Of things from my heart. This poem by Stephen Crane was quite interesting and very vivid. I like that the poem is one stanza. I think that the author did this because the poem is told like a story and a story doesnt really require stanzas because it is told in one linear direction and all at once. The way that the author broke up the one stanza was also very interesting. The poem was broken up by periods and breakings in lines. The author did this in order to emphasize certain lines. For instance, in the first line there is a break in between "heart and "and," and this was used to emphasize both lines which described the situation: the fact that there was little devils and that they were out on the author's page. This technique is used throughout the poem in order to emphasize different points of discription just like a person would pause inbetween different sections of a discriptive section of a story in order to highlight key points. Now lets look at interpreting the poem, or how i interpret it. From what i can gather it seems like the little red devils are the demons that we all deal with and the fact that they are out on the page means that the way he deals with his demons is by writing. Another part of the poem that supports this is when Crane states that " they were so tiny the pen could crush them." This describes the destruction of his demons or problems through his writing. Then he goes to describe that it was strange to write in the red much that was the mixture of the devils blood and his ink because it was writing of things of his heart. Maybe this is to show that it is hard to put your problems out there and try to deal with them and that is why it is so hard to write in the "red muck," that is our raw nature.

Darkness: for last week the 6th there was a mess up

Why are you so calm?

What makes you so terrifying?
How is darkness so unknowing?
Is darkness simply the absence of light?
Why is darkness a negative symbol?

Why are your shadow unnerving?
How can you be so relaxing yet so chilling?
Why is it we feel our weakest in darkness?
why is it so hard to describe you?
Why is darkness cold?

The inevitable

Hello,
The first step to goodbye,
The hellos that were,
Will no longer smile at me,
They will no lnonger walk in
The halls that are
My mind.
They will dissapear,
So do I say goodbye to the hellos,
or,
To their memory,
Becasuse those hellos,
will say goodbye.

I will say goodbye then,
now.

Goodbye,
Halls, walls, bathrooms,
and stalls.
Goodbye,
Beauty, snooty, class,
and cutie.
Goodbye to the hellos,
To the foes, and those who know,
me.

Hello,
The world says,
Goodbye,
Now cries.

Reading Myself

Reading Myself
Robert Lowell

Like thousands, I took pride and more than just,
struck matches that brought my blood to a boil;
I memorized the tricks to set the river on fire--
Somehow never wrote something to go back to.
Can I suppose I am finished with wax flowers
And have earned my grass on the minor slopes of

Parnassus. . .

No honeycomb is built without a bee

adding circle to circle, cell to cell,

the wax and honey of a mausoleum--

this round dome proves its maker is alive;

the corpse of the insect lives embalmed in honey,

prays that its perishable work lives long

enough for the swee-toothed bear to desecrate--

this open book . . . my coffin.

I really enjoyed this poem because I struggle with pride and wanting to leave my mark on the world, and this poem really hits that subject hard for me. I like the way that the Lowell layed out the structure of this poem because it has a very unique flow to it. In the first line Lowell breaks up the sentence a comma and a semi-colon. The semi-colon allows us to see the relationship between the matches that set him on fire and the river of fire. I see his blood and the river as one thing; he took pride and was able to light a fire within himself, he learned a trick to light his blood on fire, to make it boil with drive and persistence. After he wrights this he then goes on to say that he never wrote anything to go back to, and in my head I just figured that he was saying he never really did anything substantial with the fire that he had within him, and he never was able to harness that vast amount of drive to accomplish much. Then he goes on to ask if he has earned his place on a grassy slope of Parnassus, which is a reference to his dealings with poetry, and he wonders if he has accomplished anything so great that he has earned a place with the gods with that work. The way that Lowell indented the "Parnassus" bit is really helpful; it allows the author to transition into the "second" stanza. In the "second" stanza Lowell talks about a bee and how it works and works and works to build this bee hive but in the end it will only get destroyed, but if the bee hive can just last to and be seen by the world or someone then it means that someone knew that the bee had to have existed to create that bee hive, and Lowell wants to create something like that, in fact, he already has his own bee hive. Lowell says, "this open book...my coffin." This means that Lowell considers his writing his bee hive, and the end of him, it is what he will leave to the world when he dies.