Raining
It's raining outside,
I hear the gentle drops fall
echoing softly.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
My Favorite Sonnet
If We Must Die
If we must die, let it not be like hogs
Hunted and penned in an inglorious spot,
While round us bark the mad and hungry dogs,
Making their mock at our accursed lot.
If we must die, O let us nobly die,
So that our precious blood may not be shed
In vain; then even the monsters we defy
Shall be constrained to honor us though dead!
O kinsmen! we must meet the common foe!
Though far outnumbered let us show us brave,
And for their thousand blows deal one deathblow!
What though before us lies the open grave?
Like me we’ll face the murderous, cowardly pack,
Pressed to the wall, dying, but fighting back!
By Claude McKay
Claude McKay poem If WE Must Die is written as a Shakespearean sonnet. In this poem he uses an ababcdcdefefgg rhyme scheme. I never realized this poem was a sonnet until I noticed the 14 lines, the three quatrains and the couplet at the end. This sonnet is written in a iambic pentameter as a way to stay with traditional form. In this poem, I love the rhyme scheme that McKay uses to illustrate his message. By repeating the words if we must die, McKay shows the determination he has for black people fighting back and not just accepting the order of things. McKay wrote this poem in 1919, because he believed that African Americans deserve equal rights and protection from the white people attacking them. To me this poem means it is better to fight for what you believe in instead of running off like a coward.
If we must die, let it not be like hogs
Hunted and penned in an inglorious spot,
While round us bark the mad and hungry dogs,
Making their mock at our accursed lot.
If we must die, O let us nobly die,
So that our precious blood may not be shed
In vain; then even the monsters we defy
Shall be constrained to honor us though dead!
O kinsmen! we must meet the common foe!
Though far outnumbered let us show us brave,
And for their thousand blows deal one deathblow!
What though before us lies the open grave?
Like me we’ll face the murderous, cowardly pack,
Pressed to the wall, dying, but fighting back!
By Claude McKay
Claude McKay poem If WE Must Die is written as a Shakespearean sonnet. In this poem he uses an ababcdcdefefgg rhyme scheme. I never realized this poem was a sonnet until I noticed the 14 lines, the three quatrains and the couplet at the end. This sonnet is written in a iambic pentameter as a way to stay with traditional form. In this poem, I love the rhyme scheme that McKay uses to illustrate his message. By repeating the words if we must die, McKay shows the determination he has for black people fighting back and not just accepting the order of things. McKay wrote this poem in 1919, because he believed that African Americans deserve equal rights and protection from the white people attacking them. To me this poem means it is better to fight for what you believe in instead of running off like a coward.
Friday, January 29, 2010
A Woman's Worth 1/29/2010
homage to my hips
these hips are big hips.
they need space to
move around in.
they don't fit into little
pretty places. these hips
are free hips.
they don't like to be held back.
these hips have never been enslaved,
they go where they want to go
they do what they want to do.
these hips are mighty hips.
these hips are magic hips.
i have known them
yo put a spell on a man and
spin him like a top.
By: Lucille Clifton
Lucille Clifton’s ‘Homage to My Hips’ is a poem that commemorates the female body and its power. I love this poem, because when she talks about her body she expresses pride and ownership. Even the title of the poem ‘Homage of my hips’ is so strong. Homage means respect or reverence paid or rendered. This means that Clifton thinks her hips deserves recognition of their worth. I chose this poem; because many women forget the importance they poses and let men destroy their self-esteem by calling them out their name. These positive images in this poem allow women to appreciate their body and not enslave themselves society perception of beauty.
these hips are big hips.
they need space to
move around in.
they don't fit into little
pretty places. these hips
are free hips.
they don't like to be held back.
these hips have never been enslaved,
they go where they want to go
they do what they want to do.
these hips are mighty hips.
these hips are magic hips.
i have known them
yo put a spell on a man and
spin him like a top.
By: Lucille Clifton
Lucille Clifton’s ‘Homage to My Hips’ is a poem that commemorates the female body and its power. I love this poem, because when she talks about her body she expresses pride and ownership. Even the title of the poem ‘Homage of my hips’ is so strong. Homage means respect or reverence paid or rendered. This means that Clifton thinks her hips deserves recognition of their worth. I chose this poem; because many women forget the importance they poses and let men destroy their self-esteem by calling them out their name. These positive images in this poem allow women to appreciate their body and not enslave themselves society perception of beauty.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Chico 1/27/2010
Chico...so many images come to mind
whenever I speak your name;
It seems like when you entered my life
so many things changed.
You became my friend, my companion to the end.
As you consumed my life with
your love, and manipulative smile.
I remember all the times
when I gaze deep into your big beautiful eyes,
and watch you twirl your tail
to get me under your spell.
Even though it would not change the damage you've done,
You keep me young and
with me you will always be at home.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
“The Little Black Boy” 1/16/2010
The Little Black Boy
My mother bore me in the southern wild,
And I am black, but O! my soul is white.
White as an angel is the English child:
But I am black as if bereav'd of light.My mother taught me underneath a tree
And sitting down before the heat of day.
She took me on her lap and kissed me,
And pointing to the east began to say.Look on the rising sun: there God does live
And gives his light, and gives his heat away.
And flowers and trees and beasts and men receive
Comfort in morning joy in the noon day.And we are put on earth a little space..
That we may learn to bear the beams of love.
And these black bodies and this sun-burnt face
Is but a cloud, and like a shady grove.For when our souls have learn'd the heat to bear
The cloud will vanish we shall hear his voice.
Saying: come out from the grove my love & care.
And round my golden tent like lambs rejoice.Thus did my mother say and kissed me.
And thus I say to little English boy.
When I from black and he from white cloud free,
And round the tent of God like lambs we joy:Ill shade him from the heat till he can bear,
To lean in joy upon our fathers knee.
And then I'll stand and stroke his silver hair,
And be like him and he will then love me.
By William Blake
“The Little Black Boy” is a poem about a young boy from Africa telling the story about when he started to accept the color of his skin. In the beginning of the poem the boy constantly refers to his soul being white as the English child he wants to assimilate. He only accepts his identity when mother teaches him about God. She says that God lives in the East and gives comfort and joy to men. William Blake uses the mother to symbolize his ideals of the Bible. He explains that people are put on earth to learn to accept God’s love. My favorite part of the poem is when the mother tells the boy that his black skin “is but a cloud” that will be dissipated when his soul meets God in heaven. The black boy then teaches the lesson to the English child and promises that when they are both free of their bodies and delighting in the presence of God, he will shade his white friend until he learns to bear the heat of God’s love. Then, the black boy says, he will be like the English boy, and the English boy will love him. Little Black Boy is a great five stanza poem, that teaches people to love appreciate themselves.
My mother bore me in the southern wild,
And I am black, but O! my soul is white.
White as an angel is the English child:
But I am black as if bereav'd of light.My mother taught me underneath a tree
And sitting down before the heat of day.
She took me on her lap and kissed me,
And pointing to the east began to say.Look on the rising sun: there God does live
And gives his light, and gives his heat away.
And flowers and trees and beasts and men receive
Comfort in morning joy in the noon day.And we are put on earth a little space..
That we may learn to bear the beams of love.
And these black bodies and this sun-burnt face
Is but a cloud, and like a shady grove.For when our souls have learn'd the heat to bear
The cloud will vanish we shall hear his voice.
Saying: come out from the grove my love & care.
And round my golden tent like lambs rejoice.Thus did my mother say and kissed me.
And thus I say to little English boy.
When I from black and he from white cloud free,
And round the tent of God like lambs we joy:Ill shade him from the heat till he can bear,
To lean in joy upon our fathers knee.
And then I'll stand and stroke his silver hair,
And be like him and he will then love me.
By William Blake
“The Little Black Boy” is a poem about a young boy from Africa telling the story about when he started to accept the color of his skin. In the beginning of the poem the boy constantly refers to his soul being white as the English child he wants to assimilate. He only accepts his identity when mother teaches him about God. She says that God lives in the East and gives comfort and joy to men. William Blake uses the mother to symbolize his ideals of the Bible. He explains that people are put on earth to learn to accept God’s love. My favorite part of the poem is when the mother tells the boy that his black skin “is but a cloud” that will be dissipated when his soul meets God in heaven. The black boy then teaches the lesson to the English child and promises that when they are both free of their bodies and delighting in the presence of God, he will shade his white friend until he learns to bear the heat of God’s love. Then, the black boy says, he will be like the English boy, and the English boy will love him. Little Black Boy is a great five stanza poem, that teaches people to love appreciate themselves.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
January 21, 2010 After Reading Peter Pan
After Reading Peter Pan
My mother closed her window
She did not want Peter to talk her away.
My father opened his window
He wanted to go, as soon as possible.
And now, years later, they
are too old to Never-Never Land.
And they do not speak
to each other
And my mother is surprise
to hear that I, at age seven ,
Flung the windows wide,
Not to travel, but to fly.
Out of this week’s packet, this was my favorite poem. This poem to me represents adventure and freedom that many people seek. I love how the author compares his parent’s interpretation of the story Peter Pan and how it affects their behavior. Because to me the mother is more of a home body, her home is where she feels comfortable. However, the father seeks adventure; he wants to explore the world and what it has to offer. These two big differences is the reason they did not work out. Which could be the reason the author wrote, “And they do not speak.” I also love that this is a two line stanza poem, because it is short, easy to read and provide the necessary facts to relate to readers.
My mother closed her window
She did not want Peter to talk her away.
My father opened his window
He wanted to go, as soon as possible.
And now, years later, they
are too old to Never-Never Land.
And they do not speak
to each other
And my mother is surprise
to hear that I, at age seven ,
Flung the windows wide,
Not to travel, but to fly.
Out of this week’s packet, this was my favorite poem. This poem to me represents adventure and freedom that many people seek. I love how the author compares his parent’s interpretation of the story Peter Pan and how it affects their behavior. Because to me the mother is more of a home body, her home is where she feels comfortable. However, the father seeks adventure; he wants to explore the world and what it has to offer. These two big differences is the reason they did not work out. Which could be the reason the author wrote, “And they do not speak.” I also love that this is a two line stanza poem, because it is short, easy to read and provide the necessary facts to relate to readers.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Jan. 20, 2010
Complaining About Nothing
In the morning I complain,
How someone has used all the toothpaste
In the morning I complain,
How someone has left trash in my car
In the Morning I complain,
How traffic is so bad.
In the afternoon I complain
How my teacher didn’t show up
In the afternoon I complain,
How much homework I have to do
In the afternoon I complain,
That I have to go to work
At night I complain,
About my rough day
At night I complain,
To my mom as we watch the news
At night I see how an earthquake has hit Haiti
At night I see how many people bodies are lying dead on the street
At night I see how the people in Haiti lost everything
At night I thank God for blessing me.
In the morning I complain,
How someone has used all the toothpaste
In the morning I complain,
How someone has left trash in my car
In the Morning I complain,
How traffic is so bad.
In the afternoon I complain
How my teacher didn’t show up
In the afternoon I complain,
How much homework I have to do
In the afternoon I complain,
That I have to go to work
At night I complain,
About my rough day
At night I complain,
To my mom as we watch the news
At night I see how an earthquake has hit Haiti
At night I see how many people bodies are lying dead on the street
At night I see how the people in Haiti lost everything
At night I thank God for blessing me.
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