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.

Unititled

Untitled
Stephen Crane

In the desert
I saw a creature, naked, bestial,
Who squatting upon the ground,
Held his heart in his hands,
And ate of it.
I said: "Is it good, friend?"
"It is bitter--bitter," he answered;
"But i like it
Because it is bitter,
And because it is my heart."

Oh Stephen, what a creep you are. This poem struck me a lot. I like this poem because it is very simple, but behind that simpleness there is a lot of complexity. This poem is one giant metaphor, and Crane uses this metaphor to explain how in all of us there is some type of bestial creature. In this poem I imagine this being seen in a dream, in Crane's dream and the reason why I say that is because the way that the passage is written is story-like. The way that Crane spaces out the passage and the way that he breaks up the lines with the commas puts emphasis on certain words or parts of the poem. For instance when Crane separates line 4 into two different lines it puts a lot of emphasis on line 5, which states that the heart that the creature has in his hands is being eaten by that creature. It allows the reader to see what parts that Crane holds important and what he wants the reader to emphasize. The creature is the creature inside and i see it from the point of view of Freud and that this is a dream or something like it and the creature that is being seen is just a projection of the dreamer, therefore the creature is a part of the person in the poem. If the creature is a part of the person then he is the person and so the person is eating his own heart as a creature and stating that it is bitter, it is his own heart, and he likes it. I see this as the evil in all of us, and the person is seeing himself as this creature and he is eating his own bitter heart, but he likes it, he likes the badness that is within himself. He likes his own evil.

Sort of a Song

Sort of a Song
William Carlos Williams

Let the snake under
his weed
and the writing
be of words, slow and quick, sharp
to strike, quiet to wait
sleepless.

--through metaphor to reconcile
the people and the stones.
Compose. (No ideas
but in things) Invent!
Saxifrage is my flower that splits
the rocks.

First off I would like to say that the author's name is very interesting. Maybe his parents thought it would be funny that his name would be William Williams. Anyways, back to the poem. In the poem I first noticed that there is an interesting structure to it. In the first stanza there are some interesting breaks in lines. In the first three lines the author breaks up a line after "under" and "weed" and "writing" I think that the author did this in order to relate the snake to writing. When you read this and there is the break where it is at in lines 1-3 it allows the reader to see that the author wants us to see the snake as writing because as he seperates this line the snake waits under his weedand the writing. Both are slow and quick, and sharp to strike. The snake is slow in life but fast to strike when the moment arises, just like a writer. A writer will let the inspiration come but when it does and the writer begins the creative process then the writer is fast to strike, is fast to get the writing done and make it potent. Then the author throws a bit of a curveball at the reader by splitting the whole poem into two stanzas and in the first line of the second stanza I noticed that there are two dashes which set apart the stanza which emphasizes the importance of the second stanza. The author set up with writing is and what it is like in the first stanza then in the second stanza the author is stating what creators must do. Writers must "reconcile the people and the stones," stones of course being those who are not open to writing or poetry. The last line of the poem is then a kinda of closing of the poem, a closing that is used to wrap up the entire message of the poem. " Saxrifage is my flower that splits the rocks," in this last line the poet is stating that the writing which he produces is the flower that splites the solid reality that is the worlds rock, or his own personal rock.

Getting Cottonmouth

Cottonmouth Country

by Louise Gluck

Fish bones walked the waves off Hatteras.

And there were other signs

That Death wooed us, by water, wooed us

By land: among the pines

An uncurled cottonmouth that rolled on moss

Reared in the polluted air.

Birth, not death, is the hard loss.

I know. I also left a skin there.

Wow. This poem is extremely hazy. I cannot get it right now but I am going to read it real quick again. Hold on. :) The structure of this poem has som interesting points to it. In line 3 there are some commas that break up the sentence and the author does this because to emphasize how death interacts with us. The author uses the word "wooed," why? To give death a personality I think, maybe the personality of person who cares about us, a person who has interest in us because only those types of people would ever want to woo us. Cottonmouth....lets get to that supject. What happens when one gets cottonmouth? There is a feeling of despair, wanting, or better yet a need for watter or some type of liquid. The death created this type of despair, a longing for life to wash away the cottonmouth that death left behind. But who is the author talking to right now? Is the author in favor of life or death? Lets look at line 7. The author states " Birth, not death, is the hard loss." Why would birth be the hard loss if the author was in favor of life? Maybe he is talking to death. Maybe he is stating that to death the hardest loss is new life, because that means that there is just another person to kill, another soul to be releases, atleast thats the way that I see it. The author then states in line ate that he understands why birth is a greater loss...he left a skin there. This reminds me of a snake shedding its skin. Maybe the author agrees that when a person is born a certain part of yourself must be left behind because one must take on a new role. The role of a parent must be had. Who knows? Maybe all that I am saying is wrong, maybe the person who is reading my interpretation agrees. Who knows? Thats my take on this poem.

Hamlet ACT 2

• Plonius sends his servent to go and spy on Laertes
• Orders his servent Reynaldo do not be obvious but to find out what Laertes is really doing
• Ophelia then tells Polonius that Hamlet visited her and was wild and didnt say a word, just held her and looked at her
• Polonius says it is becaus he is mad with love for her
• Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are ordered by the King and Queen to find out why Hamlet is acting so crazy
• The King finds out that the King of Norway regrets what happened between their two kingdoms and swears that he will never attack the Danes again
• Polonius then goes on to tel the King and Queen that he thinks Hamlet is crazy because he made Ophelia not see him anymore and that Hamlet always walks alone acting insane.
• They come up with a plan to spy on Hamlet and Ophelia to see if its really love making him mad
• Rosencrantz and Guildenstern meet with Hamlet and ask why he is so gloomy and Hamlet explains
• Rosencrantz asks Hamlet if he would enjoy a troop of actors, then the actors enter
• Hamlet has one of the players read a play and Hamlet likes it
• Hamlet states that the players shall put on a play about a king being killed by his brother in order to get the current King nervous and to catch him

Just Being

The poem "Of Mere Being" by Wallace Stevens was surprisingly really good. We discussed it in class quite a while ago and then i decided that i should go back and look at it since Justin and I got into such a heated battle over whether the bird on the tree was merely being or whether it meant so much more than that.

In my opinion this poem is just about being. Maybe its because i like the sense of just being and it makes the poem much simpler than it should be, but thats what i take away from the poem, is that it is ok to just be, and that there is absolutely nothing wrong with just being the way you are. Just like nature IS, so can we all be.

In the poem Wallace paints a picture of beauty with the description that he gives of the bird and of the palm, "The palm...rises in the bronze decor," or "A gold feathered bird sings in the palm..." or "The bird's fire-fangled feathers hang down." All of these sentences give such a vivid image of such a simple thing, but thats just it, none of the things that we see as just simple are simple, they can be things of beauty and that is a message that i got out of this poem, i mean the author also says that the bird sings, without human meaning, or human feeling. Without us imposing our views onto that bird we are making it beautiful, because it just is. Looking from a structural point of view in the third stanza in line 3 the sentences are short and punctual, they hit short and fast; "The bird sings. It's feathers shine." Thats it. "The bird sings. It's feathers shine." It is in its purest form, its most beautiful form, and i for one have to learn that nature is beautiful on its own.

Powers huh?

In the poem "Song of Powers," by David Mason is a very interesting poem. I find it very complex eventhough it is only about a game of rock, paper, scissors. In this poem the structure is very interesting because he starts out with describing the rock, and it's from the rocks point of view. Mason makes the rock seem like it is a person with power, the rock has power over the scissors because it can crush the scissors. The way that the rock seems to be a person who is describing the power that is there is very intriguing, why would he give personality traits to a rock? Or to any of the items in the poem?

He gives them all personalities because at the end of the poem in the last stanza Mason this "They all end alone. As you will, you will." He uses personification for the rock paper and scissors because he is talking about humans, humans think that they have so much power but they are nothing more than scissors, rock, or paper, they all die alone, they are all alone. I mean the scissor and paper and rock all bragged about the power that they had over one another, but in the end they end up alone, they all create destructions to eachother but they end alone, that is how it is when it comes to people, no matter how much power you might have over another person there is always a rock that can crush you, scissors that will cut you, and paper that will "snuff" out your supposed power, and you will end alone.

Personal deserts

In the poem " Desert Places," by Robert Frost there is a sense of extreme loneliness. In the poem itself he says loneliness four times. And some of the places that he refers to are nothing but emptiness. Spaces that have nothing to fill them. For instance when he talks about "the empty spaces between stars" in the last stanza he then refers to himself and how none of the places that exhibit such loneliness could scare him, because he can scare himself with his own desert places. This kind of displays the whole entire meaning of this poem, or the point that Robert Frost is trying to get across, that he has very bleak, dismal places within himself, that make him feel lonely, and make him feel like "absent-spirited." He states that "the loneliness included [him] unawares," even the loneliness in the world included him, and he is so lonely that its not even a big deal that he takes his place among the unnoticed. This poem is very depressing, and in fact most of the poems in here are actually quite depressing. Thanx Mrs. White! haha

Dickenson

The poem by Emily Dickenson was very intriguing. I really like the way that she writes. I have many poems by her, actually i have an entire book of her poems along with several other famous poets. In this poem one sees the famous form that Dickenson writes with. It is a form that will leave the reader overwhelmed but also can send a reader into his or her own mind to find the answers he or she has to the poem. For instance when Dickenson talks about the chains and the society that we live in, she begs the question of what relationship do these two items have. She states that society is like a group of chains that is weighing us down and that we must sluff these chains off of us. I like that Dickenson isnt a typical writer. I like that she is intricate and doesnt just flat out say what she means in her poems. I really hope we read more of her work.