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Showing posts with label Poetry responses. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Poetry responses. Show all posts

Thursday, February 24, 2011

Poetry response to My Papa's Waltz

Their Waltz...Their mess.
Pots,pans
Broken plates
Spoons, forks, knives
All over
MY kitchen floor
They waltz around like
idiots
Leaving a messy trail behind them
they're not the ones to clean it up
so they continue thinking no one minds them
Their waltz their mess they think its funny
they waltz upstairs
leaving me to the mess
But before they go
I give them a look
They better know
that I'm upset
now is not the time to make
a mess
the house was clean again and
at its best.
           I wrote this poem from the mothers point of view because many people interpreted it that the little boy in "My Papa's Waltz" was being abused. I can completely understand why and where they would get that infrence from. Here is the original poem. :
My Papa's Waltz

The whiskey on your breath
Could make a small boy dizzy;
But
I hung on like death:
Such waltzing was not easy.
We romped until the pans
Slid from the kitchen shelf;
My mother's
countenance
Could not unfrown itself.
The hand that held my wrist
Was battered on one knuckle;
At every step
you missed
My right ear scraped a buckle.
You beat time on my head
With a palm caked hard by dirt,
Then waltzed
me off to bed
Still clinging to your shirt.

               The lines that say "The wiskey on your breath could make a small boy dizzy"; "My right ear scraped a buckle", and "You beat time on my head with a palm caked hard by dirt, then waltzed me off to bed still clinging to your shirt," clearly demonstrate where they would get that inferance. But the way that I see it, like my poems point of view is that the father works hard. He had just come home from work because maybe hes a construction worker, his wife cooked dinner and during dinner he had a few drinks. After dinner the father went to the kitchen with his son and they started to waltz the father counting the time of the steps on the child's head "Dun dun dun-pause-dun dun dun" a classic waltz beat. While the father is moving and their stomping they're making a mess in the kitchen and the mother who had been working all day to clean the house and had finally gotten the kitchen perfect was mad because they destroyed it.  The way that I interpreted this poem was that there was no child abuse therefore a few lines should not imply child abuse. But all people are entitled to their opinions...

Sunday, January 16, 2011

Wishing You were here [ Important incedent Poem ]

I cry
myself
to sleep
every night

"Why?" I ask...
why did you have
to go so soon.

You were always
there for me
when I
needed you

Friends for eternity...
Where did
you
go?

I just wish
you were here
Instead of
Up there

I wish it could
be me
and not you
who had
to go.

I miss you.
I.
Wish.
You.
Were.
Here.

My poem Response to Waiting for you by Susane Colsanti

Waiting for you  by Me

Anticipation is all I feel.
I wait for your eyes to
lock with mine
and see
how I really feel.

You're my other half
I don't know how
I could ever live without
you.

This is
Now.

Back then...
All I could do
was search
for something
real
When what
I wanted...
what I needed
Was infront of me all along

You are my
Best Friend.
You are my
Hero.

You always
Made me laugh.
You always
Put a smile on my face.

I was always
waiting for the
right guy to come
around
but...
Really you
were right here
all along

I never thought
That I could love you
Really love you
Untill...
that night

It was prom.
You asked me to dance.
I said yes.

Then we left
and
We went to
our usual
Hangout
spot.

You played our song
and we
danced under the
Moonlight

That was the night
when everything
put itself together again

The waiting was over
and...
I fell in love.
With you.
All.
Over.
Again.

Thursday, January 13, 2011

Poem Response to the poem in Class "What is poetry"

What is poetry?  written by...ME!

Poetry is Life
Every living thing
It depends on how you interpret it

Poetry comes from the
Smallest of things...
The smallest pebble...
Or.
The Smallest seashell
found along
the beach's shore
A single sunset.
Or .
A light's glow.

Poetry is your mind.
Whatever you create.
It's yours to enjoy.

Poetry is..
 A Dream.
Anything.
You.
Decide.

Poetry is you.
You are poetry.

Poetry is your
personality.
Your personal
way of
Expressing
Yourself.

Poetry is a release.
It is a mental release.
Take all of your
Problems and
Let them flow away
Onto a paper.
Your poem.

Poetry is a toy.
You can play
with it!
Be creative.
There are
No rules.
No bindings.
No restrictions.

Poetry.
Is.
Life changing.

Response to a Painting/Photo.

    I chose a painting of Mairlyn Monroe by Andy Warhol. The reason why I chose Marilyn Monroe is because I think that she's very pretty, also because she is very famous for 'The 7th itch'.  Most people know her by the photos of her above a manhole with her dress up.
   My observations of this painting was :
She's wearing diamond earings, she is leaning against a wall (Or so she appears to be doing). She's also wearing red lipstick and a strapless red dress.  I also noticed that she seemed to be looking at something or someone in a rather flirty way. I thought that the painting was absolutely stunning, even though it is not her best this one is still outstanding.
    Some infrences/ interpretations that I made were:
She might be posing for a picture [paparazzi], she might be going out with friends, she might be going to a party. She could also be going on a date. Here's the thing about art, alot of people see it in different ways, so it could be interperated in different ways. In my mind there are alot of possiablilties to go with this painting, way too many to count actually.

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Mother to Son, My reflection.

                       
                       I read the poem "Mother to Son" by Langston Hughes, and I really enjoyed it.  I found the deeper meaning within this poem, it's not just any poem, it's not just a mother's words to her son. It's about hardships, this poem tells a life story if you really think about it.
        Mother  to son, by Langston Hughes
Well, son I tell you:
Life for me ain't been no crystal stair.
It's had tacks in it,
And splinters,
And boards torn up,
And places with no carpet on the floor--
Bare.
But all the time
I'se been a-climbin' on
And turnin' corners,
And sometimes goin' in the dark
Where there ain't been no light.
So boy, don't you turn back.
Don't you set down on them steps
Cause you finds it's kinder hard.
Don't you fall now--
For I'se still goin' honey,
I'se still climbin'
And life for me ain't been no crystal stair
        One thing that I noticed about the poem is that it starts off kind of like a conversation and throught the poem you can hear her voice talking to her son, it's firm and strong, yet soft and caring.  The mother is giving the son words of wisdom because she's telling him that she had to do the same thing and she never got a break and so to survive in this world he has to keep going.
   Some translations that I came up with for words in the poem is for the words: Tacks, Splinters, torn up boards, no carpet, and crystal stair.
    For the words Tacks, Splinters, Torn up Boards, and No Carpet I came up with this definition. It could mean that the person proably grew up poor, life wasn't easy for them,  had rough patches, damaged, and shows struggle. I came up with this because when I think of something so beaten down so battered this is the first thing that came to mind when I had read this poem.
   For the word Crystal Stair, I came up with this definition. It could mean that the person had a easy life, perfect, flawless, may mean the person was born rich. I came up with this because I felt that this meaning best represented this.
    Something else that I analyzed about the poem is that, she doesn't want her son to just give up, she wants him to keep pushing on like she did and still is. She's telling him that life isn't perfect and it's going to be rough and you're not always going to be able to stop you're going to have to keep going because time waits for no one.
   Some emotions that I noticed in the poem were, that she was stressed, tired, depressed, always busy, she wants a break, worried, lifeless, blank, sometimes there is no emotion.
    By the way that the poem is written, grammer wise, I assumed that this was a african american speaking to her son. I assumed this because the poem was written in 1922, and african americans back then used to grow up in poverty, and have such a rough life trying to survive, so I imagined that this would be an african american mother speaking words of wisdom to her son.
    These are some of the things that I noticed in the book.