Representing America - American Literature AP - Blog

Poetry Experiences

Poetry is something that has never really come easy to me. I
don't know what it is, but it is hard for me to work with it. Even though it is
not my favorite thing in the world, I seem to always underestimate how
interesting it really can be. Whether it was reading, writing, or interpreting
a poem, I think everyone has had different experiences with poetry. My
experiences with it are not the best, but they aren't the worst either. I guess
for me writing poems are not my best quality. It is hard to come up with life
experiences and ideas that I can turn into an emotional poem, because let's
face it; if there isn't any emotion in a poem it really isn't that good. Even
though I am not the best at writing poems, I do, for the most part, enjoy
reading them. Reading and interpreting poems is so fascinating to me because it
allows me to express my opinion and my thoughts. I express my thoughts and
ideas on what I think the poet is trying to express to us. I also like reading
poems just because I think the language is beautiful. The way words are used to
show us a story is just amazing, and people who can do this every day are very
talented. In the end, I think that poetry is an amazing type of art. Even
though I'm not the best at writing, I think reading it is very thought-provoking
and gives you a remarkable experience.

Elegy to My Great Grandfather

The news said,

Cloudy with a chance of rain

One phone call

Tears struck as fast as lighting

No umbrella, I wasn't prepared

Flooded with memories

No more frequent visits to the garage

A garaged filled with old men and the smell of beer

I will miss

No more treats

You never asked for anything, you were always giving

Always scratching our backs, literally

Some might describe you as a crazy, funny old man

I say you are just my great-granddad

To me you were the greatest

I miss you

You will forever be in my heart

I won't say goodbye, but see you later

Reflection On Poetry

At the beginning of the poetry unit, I kind of knew what poetry was and how it was used to show different emotions and things like that. I still remember when Mr. kahn came to my class freshman year and that is when I knew little about poetry. He taught me the basic structure of poetry and how all the basic function of language blends in with the style of poetry. Also he taught use how to use striking lines to incorporate more feeling with the poetry. When Mr. Kahn first started to teach us about poetry I was not interested at all because I really did not care much about it. Then as the unit began to progress I started to respect and understand poetry better. As we began to write poetry I got more interested in it. I could relate to poetry more because i am putting in my own experiences in it. I have only been to a few spoken word cases but the ones I have been to have been amazing. I love the way they change the tone within the poetry and how it really expresses the feeling within the poem.

    MacNolia. What can I say it was a really good book but before I even talk about the book I want to get at the structure of it. The way that the poems are arranged is a great way to create the plot and conflict within the book. All of the poems in the book create an all around theme that portrays the main character and his life. He creates a feeling that every poem gets at. I really like elegy to my son because it shows a lot of emotion within MacNolia. It also portrays her emotion without her ever saying them. I learned a lot of from our poetry unit and MacNolia.   

 

Silver Me

One of my favorite poems that we've discussed so far is "Mirror" by Sylvia Plath. In fact, it inspired me to write my own poem about mirrors. What's ironic is that in Biology, we were discussing how we only see about 15% of the entire electromagnetic spectrum, and then the conversation took a confusing turn and soon we were all asking questions like "What if we could see radio waves?" or "What color is a mirror?" and the whole room got very poetic and life-pondering. Anyway, I'd love it if you guys looked it over and gave me feedback!

 

Silver Me

What color is a mirror?

Is it the me I always see?

Is it another place that's inside out? Or upside down?

That silver, shiny piece of wall watches me sleep, eat, breathe, see.

So I begin to materialize in my mind

Who she's become. 

Another me, yet more predictable. A copy.

I see her smile. The noun and the verb. Forced and happy.

She's empty, like a dead vessel floating along without destination.

Most days she's a calm sea breeze on a warm sunny day. 

A happy dream.

But sometimes, sleep is uneasy.

She thunders in, anger bright as lightening. Pouring tears.

Dark streams fall from her cloudy sky of eyes.

A foreign place of a face. 

Her blue eyes pierce the glass, radiating hate.

She's a shaking storm of violence,

That girl I see.

I hate her.

That silver me.

 

Simple Words Weave Exquisite Image

Although I love reading poetry I am not a big fan of writing it myself.  For some reason I can never quite fit all that I am trying to convey into an eloquent form, and it very often just frustrates me.  And when we do poetry lessons in class and dissect the works of others, all the hidden meanings amaze me and I wonder how the poet manages to do that because I certainly struggle with coming up with something that's not just one-dimensional.  So this poem here is not one of the more complex poems we have looked at, but I still really like reading it.  It starts off one of my favorite books that I read over the summer:

The Loom of Time

Man’s life is laid in the loom of time
To a pattern he does not see,
While the weavers work and the shuttles fly
Till the dawn of eternity.

Some shuttles are filled with silver threads
And some with threads of gold.
While often but the darker hues
Are all that they may hold.

But the weaver watches with skillful eye
Each shuttle fly to and fro,
And sees the pattern so deftly wrought
As the loom moves sure and slow.

God surely planned the pattern:
Each thread, the dark, and fair,
Is chosen by His master skill
And placed in the web with care.

He only knows its beauty,
And guides the shuttles which hold
The threads so unattractive,
As well as the threads of gold.

Not till each loom is silent,
And the shuttles cease to fly,
Shall God reveal the pattern
And explain the reason why

The dark threads were as needful
In the weaver’s skillful hand
As the threads of gold and silver
For the pattern which He planned.

Author: unknown

Every time I reread this poem I imagine a gentle old man winking knowingly at me.  This poem is comforting, explaining how everything happens for a reason.  It is then up to us to figure out why "The dark threads were as needful in the weaver's skillful hand as the threads of gold and silver".  It is also up to us to make the best out of each obstacle or "darker hue" that we are given.  While this poem is simply put, I can't help but be mesmerized by the rhythm and image it paints.  Just like we wait until "the shuttles cease to fly" to see "God reveal the pattern and explain the reason why" in life, it's the same with the poem.  It builds on each stanza, layering a message and only when it finishes do we see how we must learn from "each thread, the dark and fair", or from each life experience no matter how challenging, joyful, momentous, or minute.  And while it's almost frightening to think we have no say in our destiny, that our journey is predetermined and we might not have much agency, I think with the mystery there also comes an air of anticipation.  I think it's exciting to know, at least in this case if you believe in a higher power watching over us, that we will experience things in life to help us prepare for a greater purpose.  The surprise is up to us to discover what that greater purpose is.  I like to think I have purpose here and that everything I do will either pay off eventually or at least be instrumental in building me up for something more. 

Elegy to My Gooses

I remember getting

The two of you in a box

On an early June day

It’s a good thing I woke up

Early, I was the first to meet you two

 

The whole two weeks after that I woke up

With the sun

Sometimes before the day itself

To take the two of you out into the yard

Sunrise to sunset, we would sit out there while you ate grass

 

Once I fell asleep and the two of you woke me up

By lightly pinching my eyelids

It was like a kiss

From the soft smoothness of your beaks

 

I protected you from the neighbor’s dog

And my own

And that hawk

And the cat

 

I even eventually protected you from my parents

I didn’t care how loud

The two of you had grown to be

I didn’t care that the neighbors hated you

They didn’t complain about your warning of the danger of

Door-to-door salesmen and Jehovah’s witnesses

In fact they complemented it several times

 

Besides, at least you guys were friendly

Our friendly neighborhood Parrot

Was never friendly at all

She frequently would hear the two of you screaming

And yell at you to shut-up

At least you guys never talked back

 

I remember that my girl goosy

Would sit in my lap while

My little guy would sit next to us

You two would make that little whippoorwill

Noise that showed everyone your contentment

At being close to me

I remember that no one could agree

On names for the two of you

I thought that Moses and Oliver were perfectly

Suitable names

Dad wanted the names to be Hummus and Tubule

You never were named because of the arguments

That the conversation always ended in

 

I remember thinking that my opinion was 

The only one that mattered

I was the one who fed and watered you guys

I was the one who knew how to tell the two of you apart

I was the one who loved you two

I was the one who you guys loved back

I was the one who wanted you to love me back

 

I remember going away for a week

And coming back to find the two of you

Almost doubled in size

You had gotten to the awkward teenage stage

Without me knowing it

You grew up before me in that one week

But you guys never forgot who got you that far

 

I remember coming home from school and yelling

“MY GOOSES!!”

At the top of my lungs

The two of you would come running

From around the house to great me

 

I remember the way you used to shoot down airplanes

With your sideways glares

And cars

And dogs

And cats

And the mailman

And everything but me

 

I especially remember when one of you lay two eggs

I remember how hard you were working to lay those eggs

I remember how I was the only person allowed within a five-foot radius

Of your nest-site

I remember how tired you looked afterwards

 

 

 

I remember how excited I was about

The idea of being a grandparent

At the ripe old age of 13

I remember being the only one excited

 

I remember the next morning when

I went to wake the two of you up

And found feathers everywhere

I thought maybe you were in a fight

But that was a ridiculous idea

 

I remember seeing the female laying on the ground

Motionless

I remember the male trying to pick her up with his bill

I remember seeing that the feathers had been pulled off

As he tried to wake you

 

I remember your burial

I remember the next few days when the survivor

Stopped eating

I remember finding him just as dead as her

 

I remember everyone’s odd looks as a said

“My favorite animal is a goose.”

I remember having to explain why

I remember doing so

I remember the looks of pity from people who never had even met you two

I remember people saying that that was the worst story they ever heard

I remember thinking, “You have no idea.”

 

Shifting View

I haven't really completely appreciated poetry up until now. Earlier in my life, I might have enjoyed a cool metaphor or illuminating image, but I never actually went in depth and tried to understand all of the different levels a poem had. In 8th grade, my language arts class had a poetry competition in which we would all perform a poem (could be original, most chose to do someone else's) and face each other in a tournament. For one round, I chose to perform the Pokemon song. Although a great song, it is not the best example of poetry. I decided to use it because it was an easy way out - simple and goofy enough so that it's easy to present. For the true poems I read I hardly focused on an underlying meaning or symbolism in the writing. Now my approach has changed a bit and I try to analyze poetry more carefully. If I were to do that tournament today, I would choose a poem that had a message I could relate to, and one that actually took some effort to understand.

Elegy to Papa

2000.  Your eyes match the waves. You observe your grandchildren running through the water, giggling as if you are recalling your own childhood. Reaching down, you throw my tiny body onto you're jolly pot belly cushion. "Welcome back kiddo."

2008. Dad holds you're naked body in the bathroom, he makes sure you pee inside the toilet this time. Like a father, he aims you. He recalls his own childhood. You stop fighting him off. Your aged mind has completely surrendered to infancy. I stand in the hallway, hypnotized by the brown excrement carpet stains Nana struggles to clean. It smells like a dirty diaper. Her eyes, distressed, like a mothers'. We hear you crying from the hallway.

2005. My hands are purple from the red and blue washable markers I determinedly color my hair with. I look like a grown-up now. The phone rings. Mommy and daddy pack bags. They say they will be be back tomorrow. "Don't worry Zoe, you'll spend the day with Lea, have a fun Fourth of July!" I overhear her talking to daddy, "People can re- learn to speak, stephen. Strokes are common."

2003. You're pine scented office is like a treasure box through my creative eyes. I run my tiny fingers through your golden dusty book stacks. A young picture of you catches my eye. "President of the Illinois Power Plant" labels twist  imagination as "make believe" transforms me into you. I sit firmly on my green velvet chair and slide my name tag closer to me. "WENDEL J KELLEY," imprinted in rusty gold. This must be what its like to be a grownup.

2006. You pout sourly in your smelly recliner chair. "My ice-cream!" Is what you sternly command Clark to retrieve. Us three know thats not what you really mean. I see the frustration in your caged eyes. "My ice-cream!" you scream in clarks ghost white face. Clark hands you your glasses. His eyes are red.

2009. I stare at your weak sedated body on the nursing home casket. You look like a newborn child. Your bruised eye is now red like the now diminished temper that had gotten you into this mess.  Dads sunken eyes resemble yours as he paces angrily back and forth. "Black eyes don't come from falling out of chairs."

Third-Grade-Happy

I was third-grade-happy.

Maybe I skipped to school, 

my mostly-empty backpack bouncing up and down

behind me, 

just an accessory to make me feel big.

I said “Hi,”

to my kind-of-sort-of-friends hanging upside down. 

I smiled 

at the little kids playing in the sand box. 

I galloped 

across the vast blacktop and 

I lined up 

behind the yellow T, 

proud to be the line leader.  

 

There were smiley faces and stars 

atop the papers

waiting for me on my desk. 

The stars that only a teacher could make. 

The stars that lots of times I tried to copy.

It’s hard to make teacher-stars.

 

I skipped stairs going down. 

I speed-walked past the music room.

I twirled into the gym and refrained

from swinging on the bars.

I sat criss-cross-apple-sauce in my row.

All day I had been third-grade-happy. 

 

Mrs. Garcia picked captains.

Our team rocked.

I ducked this way and that. 

Unstoppable.

I waited for a good shot 

at my real opposition. 

He threw first. 

I turned my head and tilted my neck 

just quickly enough to hear the foam ball

whizz past my face. 

I was third-grade-happy

when he failed to do the same.

 

After school I found out. 

My aunt Faith had died that morning.

All day I had been third-grade-happy, 

and my aunt Faith had been dead.

Thirty-nine is too young to die. 

Third grade is too young to learn death.

 

Reflection

I've always been somewhat interested in poetry. I remember my freshman and sophomore year going to the assembly with the poetry competition and being so intrigued. Although, in the class competition I could barley stay awake and feared for when it would be my turn to perform, which I think more than half of the students could agree too. I believe that anyone can be a poet but what catches people's attention is the honesty and brutal opinions people are able to express through delicate writing, which not everyone can do, including me. Poetry is not an easy ability but when people have that skill it truly is amazing and mind blowing. Some poems are better than others but that's pretty obvious and all depends off of an opinion. I would love to be a poet but it doesn't click with me like it does with other people. The people who it does click with though, truly amaze me.

 

Lost Count: A Love Story

Since eighth grade I have always had nights every so often when I just get into a youtube craze of watching poets performing. Some of my favorites are from something called "Brave New Voices". There are a lot of different poets performing in competitons and they're the type of poems that I can watch over and over again to an extent where I know every word and their exact tone but I will still hear something different than I ever have before. Another poet who captivates me is named Jeanann Verlee. From these two poets/groups some of my favorites are "Thinking about you", "40 love letters", "Hir", "That girl", "Unsolicited Advice to Adolescent Girls with Crooked Teeth and Pink Hair" and many others. 

One of my favorites is poem called "Lost Count: A Love Story". This poem is two eighteen year old boys talking about the unsafe area they live in and how many of their friends they have had to see murdered. The lines in this poem can catch you completely off guard with how brutally honest they are about the dangerous neighborhood they live in. They write this poem in an attempt to be able to make more people aware of the unsafe lifestyle so many are forced to face, which is similar to MacNolia competeting in the spelling me. MacNolia and these boys both want to prove that they deserve better than what they are surrounded with and that they should not be defined by their race or the area they grow up in.

Gredo

I walk into the bar

And immediately I can smell the stench

Of the noxious concoction

Of blood, sweat, and alcohol brewing

In this cesspool.

A severed arm lies on the floor,

Ignored by the customers just like my green skin.

Only the worst criminals come here.

It’s like the bottom of the popcorn bag, where all of the defective cornels end up.

I wouldn’t be here myself

If it weren’t for the huge price on this guy’s head.

But I’m not going to let that Mandalorian

Get this one. I’m tired

Of getting all of the second-rate jobs.

Like the hyena; always getting the scraps.

There he is in the booth.

Better draw my blaster,

This guy’s dangerous.

Distracting Flesh

I have to admit I was surprised that in class we did not spend much time on the poem "John Montiere answer to question one" in MacNolia. I find it to be a particularly powerful and and insightful glimpse into John's mind, especially pertaining to his view of MacNolia. The first stanza of the poem is heartbreaking, in a sense, because John has realized a change in MacNolia's character. He believes that she has become so hardened and defeated that it causes him pain to look in to her eyes and see himself. At first I thought, maybe his lust for MacNolia has worn off after he's had time to process her imperfections and baggage, and maybe now their love will become more realistic, but also stronger. However, the because John cannot even bear to look into her eyes and see himself, and cannot even find any beauty in his altered view of her, it seems that this poem suggests a significant blow to their relationship, one that might be fatal. The order and juxtaposition in which this story is unraveled add to its emotional power. For instance, the poem just before this one, "inchoate", told from MacNolia's point of view, suggests that her feelings toward John and their relationship may be at least as negative as his. She likens intimacy with him as with a ghost of someone who "taught you how not to love", and even describes the start of their relationship as if John snatched her up before she could consider her true feelings. 

John has relied on physical intimacy with MacNolia to be his primary display of love and affection, but I believe that MacNolia will not feel truly loved unles or until they also begin to express their love through verbal communication. To me, the last stanza of the poem is such an honest revelation into John's character, and acts as his sort of defense as to why he is truly afraid to step out of his comfort zone. 

If I would look into her eyes, it was as if fingers would strip off

my clothes, and I would want to strip off my skin, but I'd fear it

would not help my fear; it may only lead to my bones, without

the distraction of my flesh to comfort me. 

John relies on MacNolia's physical attraction to his "flesh" to distract her from one he seems to believe are his shortcomings, or, in other words, he fears that MacNolia will begin to see him in a more negative light, just as he has come to view her. This may seem irrelevant, but to me I read the first stanza as almost sexist, because he has come to discover her complications and complex personality as less attractive and not womanly, or at least not womanly in an appealing way. He says that "she had a shy smile, but she laughed like a man". Although this may be sexist, (but not at all surprising, coming from that time), he is so critical of himself, and has so little self confidence in anything other than the appearance of his physical body, that I am more inclined to view this poem as a heartbreaking, vulnerable insight into John's fears than an attack on MacNolia.

 

 

 

Passing of the Baton

We were not assigned to read the poem "Jesse Owens, 1963," but I thought I would look at it anyway because I admire Jesse Owens and what he was able to accomplish in his career. In the poem, John compares life to a relay race, and writes how the passing of the baton is analogous with the passing down of wisdom after living through a life. I used to run on a relay team so I can relate to the last couple of lines especially. The moment just before the exchange can be intimidating, because you notice how exhausted your teammate is but also realize that you now have to accomplish what he just finished, faster if possible. It is a daunting task. When receiving life lessons from a person who has already experienced most of what they ever will, you may feel similar emotions because you know they are basically done, and you now have to go through the debilitating process that brought them to the position they are currently in.

Jesse Owens was a hero, but he wasn't treated as such after all of his endorsement deals were made public. He had lost his status of an amateur, and with it the respect of many people. In 1963, the year John met Owens, the sprinter was not recognized as the legend he is today and "looked like a man at the end of a long race." He was working at a gas station struggling just to get by. Owens' state shocked John a little, telling him that no matter who you are, life still has the same effect on you.

Ourselves in Our Bodies

One poem I really like from MACNOLIA by A. Van Jordan was "John Montiere answer to question one", which went along a common theme of how drugs can change people. In this instance, the drug was alcohol. He discusses how when MacNolia started to drink she became far more depressed and defeated, saying "Her eyes no longer looked like the dark wells I would fall into when we first met; her eyes were bottomless pits filled with sadness, dark holes I feared." What I found interesting about this line is that eyes are generally seen as windows to a person's soul. Not only does it give us some insight into MacNolia's character, but it also shows us more about John's relationship with and feelings about her.

My absolute favorite part of of the poem is, "it may only lead to my bones, without the distraction of my flesh to comfort me." Bones are commonly used in expressions such as "bare bones" that mean the absolute essence, of something or one's self. I thought it was interesting that he did not want to get to know the possible essence of his being, but instead would rather stay acquainted with the more superficial aspects of his person.

As Refreshing As Spring

Even though we spent some time on the poem "with" in MacNolia, there is one line I especially love that we only mentioned briefly.  I not only love the image that it captures, but I also love how you can almost feel the way MacNolia's heart swells with love from the gentle sight of the two most important men in her life crying.  To complete the cycle of her pregnancy, the last definition of "with" is, "11. given, granted: With his blessing, we baptized our son, and they both cried, both like grown men, for a man never changes the way he cries, always as if he were the coming of spring" (47).  This was such a peaceful and proud way to end a poem that mainly shows MacNolia's anxiety and longing for John, and her need of his support.  So, this last sentence is like the resolution to those long nine months she spent worrying, wondering if she would lose John forever and if he would abandon her and their son.  I also love how each little phrase is separated by a comma, adding not only emphasis but also allowing the whole image to build on top of one another and become more elaborate.  This idea that a man's cry never changes led me to think of the poem "John Montiere answer to question three" when he describes the first time he hears his son.  If a man's cry never changes, then his cry is the same in adulthood as it was when he was born, which John describes as a "passionate" song.  He remembers, "His voice is like a gust of wind throwing a man's head back or, like a wind whispering through a woman's hair" (45).  Their son's first cry is as powerful and in your face as the strongest gusts, but also stirs the same depth of emotion as a caressing breeze.  MacNolia then sees this in both John and Darrell at his baptism.  Like the first hint of spring brings winds powerful enough to thaw the frozen world after winter, it also follows with a gentle breeze that is fresh, crisp, and hopeful, soothing to the heart.  By seeing John cry especially proves to MacNolia that maybe the rough time in their marriage is over.  Seeing his empathy and love for their son calms MacNolia after she has been worrying for so long. 

A Kitchen Built for One

A line that stuck out to me was in the poem "John Montiere answer to question two" when he said "a kitchen built for one butt to fit in;". This quote perfectly captured how their family functioned to me, if you would call it functioning at all. The kitchen or dining room is usually the place of unity in the family. In movies and TV shows it's the place where a parent cooks while children scurry about to set the table or just to simply get in the way. It's always a place of bonding but in John's family, they lacked that core value. The entire poem explained his father's anger and the tension it caused in the household but usually in situations where one family member alienates themselves because of their anger, the rest of the family sticks together. But this line proved that in John's family it was everybody for themselves.

The Good and The Bad

 

".... red velvet cake; pecan pie; 'Bitch, I said come here''

John remembers the 'red velvet cake' of his childhood. He remembers the pecan pie and the fireflies. He remembers how good he was at playground games. Scattered throughout the pleasant memories he shares, though, are the exact opposite - the memories that many people would hope to forget 

The stark contrast of the memories and the non-existent transitions between them makes me feel as though John sees no distinction. He speaks with a nonchalance that at first made me feel bad for him - I can't imagine what it was like growing up with "Papa peeing down from the tops of the stairs."

I realized however, that even though John Montiere's experience might be an extreme example, everyone's life is inconsistent. I wonder if John is maybe just letting us know that although the good can't overpower the bad, the bad can't overpower the good either. The good memories and the bad memories . . . they're all just part of who we are.

'I said I ain't drunk'; how good I used to be at kickball, free frog, and tetherball"

 

"John Montiere"

A line that I love comes from the poem "John Montiere" in the book Macnolia. The line reads "hardwood floors injecting splinters when I walked barefoot." This line is so hard hitting and puts such a clear image in my mind. On a deeper level it suggests, along with the rest of the poem, that it was hard to walk around, or be in his childhood home because of the negativity. John had a turbulent relationship with his father which does not seem like it was not resolved. Just as splinters not removed will fester and make it impossible to walk, issues not dealt with will poison a relationship making it impossible to move forward in life. 

Same Love

I personally do not like rap songs at all, but my friend made me listen to this one song called "Same Love" written my Macklemore and although I didn't want to admit the fact that it was good song, I still did because it was really good. Not only did the rhythm and beat seduce me but the lyrics did too. I very rarely listen to the lyrics of songs because there usually random repetitive words but in this songs
they meant something.

Macklemore didn't only speak to his listeners but to the entire world. His song, "Same Love", is about how all people should be treated equally but not only by race but by their sexuality. He talks about how race and sexuality is the same thing and that there was war over race but would never have war over sexuality. He believes that it should be a bigger issue than how people view it. He says

Have you readthe YouTube comments lately
'man, that’s gay' gets dropped on the daily
We become so numb to what we’re saying

He also writes about how people believe that having the same sexuality can be cured by religion. The bible does state that having the same sax is wrong but Macklemore is right when he says, "But we paraphrase a book written thirty-five-hundred years ago." This statement is true and obviously things have changed, so the law should also be changed. Slowly but surely every sexuality will have the right to get married. It’s important that everyone is treated fairly and is able to be free and do what they want. People should stop using negative words in the context of gays and I believe that Macklemore did a
phenomenal job on getting is point across in his spectacular song.

"Losing My Religion"

Song: Losing My Religion

Artist: R.E.M.

Album: Out of Time

Lyrics

I wouldn't go so far as to say that "Losing My Religion" is my favorite song, but it is my favorite R.E.M. song, and R.E.M. is my favorite band. When we first got this assignment I wasn't very thrilled, and I'm goingt to be honest; I'm still not. When I listen to a song I don't pay as much attention to the words they are saying as I do to to the notes and the melody of the song.

If someone just sees the title and listens to the song without paying too much attention to the lyrics, they might thing that the person in this song is losing their faith in god, and becoming less religious than they used to be. The title, however, is actually a southern idium that means losing one'd temper or civility, so the lines "That's me in the spotlight/ Losing my religion" means that this person has had an outburst in a public place and has atracted a lot of attention.

The song as a whole, however is about obsession. The subject of the song is obsessed (presumably romanticly) with someone else, and this song is about how they feel towards them. "The lengths that I will go to/ The distance on your eyes," "Trying to keep and eye on yu/ Like a hult, lost and blinded fool."

I think that the double meaning of the title and the universality of the song makes it poetry.

Meeting Memories

Girls. Beer. Tractors. Country music. Jeremy Moore's If Heaven Wasn't So Far Away is something different. Released as the lead-off single to Moore's second studio album, Outlaws Like Me, If Heaven Wasn't So Far away is a song about Heaven that forgets all about death and instead gets listeners thinking about life.

This song acts not only as an expression of a desire to visit lost loved ones but also as a runthrough of the past - a trip down memory lane, reminding listeners to live, love, and never forget. The speaker introduces his audience to his memories, both good and bad. He speaks so casually that listeners are made to feel as if they are life long friends who have experienced all of these memories with him.

I'd hug all three of those girls we lost from the class of '99
And I'd find my bird dog Bo and take him huntin' one more time
I'd ask Hank why he took those pills back in '53
And Janis to sing the second verse of "Me and Bobby McGee"

This is not a poem of elaborate imagery or detailed descriptions. But in just four lines, I'm made to feel as though I've experienced all of the things that the speaker has. I have filled in the blanks and created Hank, and Bo, and Janis. I feel for the speaker, because I feel as though I know his friends, as though I have met his memories.  

I Am Only "I Am" That I've Opened Up My Eye

Sometimes when I'm in my darkest places, a particularly uncomfortable state of mind, or simply walking through the halls of school feeling lifeless and mundane, music is the only thing that gets me through. Whether it's a song that's lyrics are so eerily relatable and helpful that I feel as though I've sorted out some of the jumbled mess of questions and uncertainties in my mind, or a song that's so refreshing and such a stark contrast from my current state of being that I'm able to temporarily live in a false reality, one more exciting than my own, music has always simultaneously acted as an answer and an escape.

 No matter how many new songs and bands I discover, There will always be a few that I come back to, that have permanently become a part of me. One of those groups is Edward Sharpe and The Magnetic Zeros, an alternative / indie / psychadelic rock band led by vocalist Alex Ebert. Listening to their music is like skipping through a field of flowers and hopping on a hippie bus with your lover and you best of friends - or, how I often like to romanticize the 60s. The band's lyrics are so poetic and honest that I often feel like I'm reading their diaries, or hearing secrets that I shouldn't be hearing - but it's so beautiful that I can't help myself but continue to indulge my ears and listen. In their most well known single, "Home", there is an entire section of the song where Ebert tells his girlfriend and fellow band member Jade Castrinos about when he rushed her to the hospital after she fell out of a window, and he realized that he was in love with her - it's raw and unique and hilariou8sly beautiful.

One song of theirs that features especially poetic lyrics is" Come in Please". The song starts off in a deep, dark place, describing different, negative ways in which people view death, such as in this phrase:

Daddy's on the mountain yellin' at the bloody sky
Mama's in the mirror actin' out another life
Children in the schoolyard singin' "everybody dies".

The chorus of the song,

 Sometimes said it's sun time
Let it sunshine on my mind
All the same  its conscience waiting
Cross the line

hints at a struggle to come to terms with death and find internal peace. The idea of the sun sometimes coming out and the symbol of crossing a line both forshadow the possibility of achieving these goals. The song is also dispersed with references to moving forward and traveling somewhere new, which symbolize leaving behind a pessimistic, dark past and into a new, more optimistic future. Eventually, the main "character" of the song and other "characters" are able to develop more optimistic outlooks. This is made especially clear in the lyric

I am only "I am" that I've opened up my eye.

I feel that the main character has had a mental breakthrough, and is now able to view life in a more positive light.

Runners-Up: (I couldn't help myself!)

-"Blood" - The Middle East and the cover by Mree

-"Love Interruption" - Jack White

-"Horses" - Patti Smith

-"Come Together" - The Beatles

-"Going to California" - Led Zeppelin

 

Shine Until Tomorrow

The song "Let It Be" by The Beatles on the album Let It Be, is easily one of my favorite songs. I have been listening to The Beatles since I was very young. My parents always used to play their songs in the car and whenever we went on road trips and I still continue to listen to them. Not only are they the most amazing band ever, but the lyrics in their songs are really powerful. Even though they are simple words, they have a strong meaning. I would have to say my favorite line in the song is: 

And when the night is cloudy,

There is still a light, that shines on me,

Shine until tomorrow,

Let it be.

It sounds so simple, but the meaning is so strong. My interpretation of it is that there will always be hope if you just "let it be."  The whole song seems to be talking about always having hope that everything will turn out fine. If you just let it be and leave it alone, it will work out fine. It's as simple as that. Another striking line that seems to explain how there is still hope to create peace is when they say:

And when the broken hearted people living in the world agree

There will be an answer, let it be.

For though they may be parted, there is still a chance that they will see,

There will be an answer, let it be.

This really emphasizes the fact that if we all just get along with each other and not complain about others, "there will be an answer," and everything will be all right. If everyone can be on the same page and see that peace is the only answer, then we will have it.   

They were really big on peace and against the war, and this song really indicates how faith and hope can bring you peace. This song was written during the time of the Vietnam War, so they were just trying to promote peace. Many of their other songs were about promoting peace, such as "Revolution" and "Across the Universe."  

"Across the Universe" is another one of my favorite songs. The imagery in it is incredible and every line has imagery and similes and metaphors. My interpretation of this song is that even though there are many temptations in the world, good and bad, none of that is going to change your world if you have faith in something or someone. I know that during this time, Lennon was big on meditation and letting everything go and being peaceful and relaxed. The meditation he practice was tied to a guru who he praised. The line "Jai Guru Deva. om" means I give thanks to guru Dev. Having faith will help you from all the temptations in your world, so nothing can change it. That is pretty much my interpretation of it. The first stanza uses imagery that really ties in the whole temptation aspect of the song. 

Words are flowing out like

Endless rain into a paper cup

They slither wildly as they slip away across the universe.

Pools of sorrow waves of joy

Are drifting through my opened mind

Possessing and caressing me.

And then it goes onto the chorus of "Nothing's gonna change my world." When he says "pools of sorrow...possessing and caressing me," it just shows that there is no type of temptation, good or bad, that can change his world or influence him because of his strong, confident faith in his guru. Nothing can bring him down. It also presents the fact that peace will come with it. When something changes in someones life, it creates disruption which causes you to alter your life a little bit. If your world doesn't change, then you will have peace. Also I really like the line "Words are pouring out like endless rain into a paper cup." It really paints a picture in my head and creates a sound of drops of water hitting a paper cup. Like his words "slip away across the universe." He is influencing everyone across the whole universe to have hope and faith. Even though I am attepting to figure out what this song is about, there is really no one who knows exactly what it is supposed to be about other than the person who wrote it. Sometimes that is a good thing though. Sometimes they leave it up to the audience of the poem or the song, to determine what they want the poem or song to mean. 

 

Fake Friends

    One song I would defend as poetry is the song, "Super Rich Kids" by Frank Ocean from his album Channel Orange. This song is from the first person point of view of a rich kid whose parents are not around and has fallen into bad habits. He has found fake love in his fake friends, money, and material things and is now "searching for a real love." The occasion is one day when he wakes up normally and starts his day on the roof, and by the end he is dead. 

    In the song Frank is trying to portray that the life of a "super rich kid" is not all it is cut out to be. The refrain of the song says,

Too many bottles of this wine we can’t pronounce
Too many bowls of that green, no Lucky Charms
The maids come around too much
Parents ain’t around enough
Too many joy rides in daddy’s Jaguar
Too many white lies and white lines
Super rich kids with nothing but loose ends
Super rich kids with nothing but fake friends

His diction helps get his point across that this life is overboard and too much. He repeats the word "too" severaly times which shows how its just superflous amounts of everything, and it is not good. Also in the song it seems as if Frank is not exactly happy with his life, but he is not complaining about all the riches and materials. In my favorite verse of the song it states, 

Sleeve rips off, I slip, I fall
The market's down like 60 stories
And some don’t end the way they should
My silver spoon has fed me good
A million one, a million cash
Close my eyes and feel the crash

This is the part when the super rich kid is dying and Frank states "my silver spoon has fed me good" and even though the whole song is complaing about how alot of money leads to kids doing bad things and parents not being around enough, the kid is still happy with their life and satisfied. And the very last lines of the song of him closing his eyes and feeling the crash it is as if he is just accepting his death. Also like he has accepted his lifeystle, there's nothing he can do about it so he just goes with the flow. 

    Finally, the third way he uses poetic language is when he is talking about searching for love. Frank writes,

Real love, ain't that something rare
I’m searching for a real love, talking bout real love

The rich kid has tried to find love in his absent parents, expensive items, in the drugs he does, and in his fake friends but he is aware that all these "loves" are false. The word searching also enhances the song because it makes you feel as if this rich kid is a good person trying to do the right thing, but he just doesn't know how or where to do it at so he is currently searching for it. 

This song is just overall amazing and a perfect example of poetry. This super rich kid is just in search of what is real in the world, but he was not able to complete the search. Although he was not completley unhappy with his life, he was just searching for someting better and something real.

When the Curious Girl Realizes She is Under Glass

The song, When the Curious Girl Realizes She is Under Glass by Bright Eyes from the album, "Fevers and Mirrors", which can be listened to here, is a very suggestive song that can be difficult to interpret. In some ways, I think that it can express a different meaning to each person that listens to it.

When I listen to the song, I immidiately think of the want/ need for change. The character, being a detatched girl, trying to find a way to reconnect with the world and finding the meaning all over again. Her point of view is being expressed in each stanza, while she goes through the stages of memory, fighting though sorrow, self reflection, loneliness, and thoughts on the future.

 Tomorrow when I wake up I’m finding my brother
 And making him take me back down to the water
 That lake where we sailed and laughed with our father
 I will not desert him. I will not desert him

This first stanza is simply a memory, which foreshaddows the girl's need for change. The signifigance of this memory is its simplicity, and the last line expresses loneliness/ importance of humanity/ empathy values.

No matter how I may wish for a coffin so clean
Or these trees to undress all their leaves onto me
I put my face in the dirt and then finally I see
The sky that has been avoiding me

The Second stanza, again emphasizes her loneliness and want for change. The "coffin so clean" is a metaphor for death. The "undressing of leaves" is also another metaphor of death and change (leaves change seasonally).

The fourth stanza represents her wish for the future. "Time take us forward" is again the want for change. The line "I don't care" is her surrender to change and willingness, no matter what it takes, although she doesn't know exactly what those actions will be. "In the freezing darkness of my room" is again, her loneliness.

I interpret the last stanza as ending on a melancholy note. She finally ends on her realization of everything that is happening and everything she has ever felt. She symbolizes her frausteration with failure to change through her reference to pills trying to balance her brain. The last line shows that she will probably still remain a "girl under glass," being cut off from her emotions forever.

But no matter what I would do in an attempt to replace
All the pills that I take trying to balance my brain
I have seen the curious girl with that look on her face
So surprised she stares out from her display case

Chasing the Cool

There is a multitude of rappers in the game right now, and the number rises every day. Each has their own different style and technique. In my opinion, Lupe Fiasco is the most lyrical of them all at the moment, and he demonstrates his cunning ability in the song "The Coolest" on his sophomore album "The Cool."

The song is included in a partial concept album that follows the life of a man named Michael Young History who Lupe introduced on his debut album "Food & Liquor." Michael Young History is a kid who is growing up parent-less, so two other characters step in to raise him, the Streets and the Game. Throughout his story Michael is chasing "the cool," a metaphysical concept most closely associated with success, similar to "juice" for those who have seen the 90s film of the same name.

In this song, Lupe speaks from Michael Young History's point of view. Michael has fallen in love with the Streets, and he tells of how with her power she will pick him up from the gutter and enable him to finally become "cool." However, the streets are a corrupt place. Likewise, the Streets is a corrupt woman, so Michael has to give up on morals if he wants to achieve the status of the coolest.

Lupe introduces Michael's cognitive dissonance in the opening lines using paradoxes, saying

I love the Lord,
But sometimes it's like that I love me more
I love the peace and I love the war

Here Michael Young History is expressing his affection for ideas that strongly conflict with one another. God is supposed to be above all, including yourself, but he confesses that he does not always hold that reverence for Him. The next line could have a couple meanings. He could dislike fighting and might rather relax sometimes, and he may only be fond of conflict only for the spoils of war, which he makes a reference to in a later line. "Peace" could also be interpreted as "piece" which is another term for a gun, in which case there would be no contrast in the line. Later in the verse Lupe compares his love to a flower.

But she doesn't see(seed), therefore I spoil(spore)
I trip, I fall run up and raw.
I love her, with all my heart
Every vein, every vessel, every bullet lodged
With every flower that I ever took apart

The Streets not seeding means she doesn't want his baby, and sporing is a form of asexual reproduction. She wants Michael to recruit other people to take part in his lifestyle by himself. Veins are not only found in humans but also in flowers, and vessels can be used to hold flowers. He could be referring to all the flowers he has given her. The last line is a reference to the pulling of petals off flowers while saying "she loves me, she loves me not."

Lupe also makes numerous references to water and weather throughout the song. Water gives energy and creates new life wherever it goes, but it can also destroy when it takes the shape of a storm or comes in heavy amounts. Water correlates to the time he spends with the Streets. A steady flow will keep him strong while a flood will wash him back to the gutter. Here he is using the song to shed light on the lives of many kids who grow up in inner cities and struggle to survive. Running with a gang will at least postpone the troubles they have to face, but eventually their lifestyle will catch up with them and ultimately be their downfall. The purpose of telling Michael Young History's story is to bring attention to that very misfortune. Although Michael is a fictional character, there are children just like him living lives not too different from his. Lupe could also be telling his own story, as "Michael Young History" sounds very close to "my cool young history."

No Matter what Happens The Show Must Go On!

When i first listen to a song I only really notice the beat and the chorus of the song. Once I start to listen to it after a while then I start to get know the lyrics and resiting the lyrics. Then if I listen to the song a few more times then I start to really understand what the lyrics are trying to say. The song by Lupe Fiasco, The Show Goes On, is a song that I really had to listen to understanding the meaning of the song. This song is about how people or life tries to send  many obstacles your way but do not let your obstacles get in your way because life or "show" must go on. So people must get over all the obstacles of life and just keep their life going. In the the song Lupe says,

       Have you ever had the feelin' that you was  bein' had?

         Don't that shit there  make you mad?

                    They treat you like a slave

     Put  chains all on your soul and put whips up on your back

They be lyin' through they teeth, hope you slip up off your path
                            
 I don't switch up, I just  laugh, put my kicks up on they desk

       Unaffected by they threats, then get busy on they ass

See, that's how that Chi-Town made  me, that's how my daddy raised me

    That  glitterin' may not be gold, don't let nobody play  me

      If you are my homeboy,  you'll never have to pay me

     Go on and put your hands up when times is hard, you stand up

        L-U-P the man, 'cause the  brand that the fans trust

    So even  if they ban us, they'll never slow my plans up.

These few lines from the song talk about the challenges that people faced before and how they did not let this challenges deter them from reaching there dream. Then he talks about how he challenges faced him and he was not worried about them. He did not like obstacles or challenges stop his show from going on. Lupe Fiasco uses a lot of imagery to help the audience understands where he came from and how he did not let the challenges that face him deter him from reaching his dream. He also makes a generalization that anyone can face their obstacles or challenges as along as the person is wiling to fight. So Lupe has a plan that he has and nobody or nothing is going to stop his plans.

Killing Me Softly

 The song I chose is "Killing Me Softly" by The Fugees on the album "The Score". To listen click here  Have you ever heard one of those songs with lyrics that match exactly how you feel? Well that's what this song is about.

Strumming my pain with his fingers

Singing my life with his words

Killing me softly with his song

In the song she's saying she feels exactly what this guy is saying and he is singing her life story which is only hurting her more.

I felt all flushed with fever

Embarrassed by the crowd

I thought this was a good use of imagery and I actually felt as though I was there. When I read the lyrics I think its about her going to see a stranger perform and as he plays, the song explains what she is going through. "I felt he found my letters then read each one out loud--. Then she didn't want to hear it anymore because it was only killing her. Only making the pain worse. He controlled her pain at that moment. Music can control how you feel. Poetry is capturing someone with emotion. Imagine being in a crowd of people and feeling embarrassed because you feel as though everyone knew your life story. I felt so much emotion in this song. It was a song about a song. Poetry is language rendered musically. This song doesn't have a lot of lyrics and its not too complex. The song just flows. It's one of those songs that will have you thinking and nodding your head.

The Blurred Vision of Lost Cats

"Cataracts" is the ninth song on Andrew Bird's album, Armchair Apocrypha. Out of all the songs on this album, I would argue that this one is the most beautiful, the most complex, and the most poetic. The actually meaning of this song is highly debatable, but to actually understand what he's saying requires some background knowledge and vocabulary definitions. To start, cataracts are a problem with the lens in the eye that blur vision. Unrequited means unreturned, and a scepter is a kind of ceremonial staff that rulers carry to  symbolize sovereignty. Coppice, chaparral, bracken, and catchweed all refer to things in nature. A coppice is a kind of woodland area where trees are periodically cut down for firewood. Chaparral is vegetation that consists mostly of kind of tangled shrubs and thorny bushes. Bracken and catchweed are both kinds of plants. I don't actually know what scribs are, but when I googled it it said that they were a protein found in human genes. Also, cats have the most incredible eyes. Their have really good vision, particularly at night, as well as really good depth perception and a wide field of vision. They also have a reflective layer of tissue behind the retina, which is why their eyes shine so brightly at night. They also have a third eyelid and don't really need to blink the way humans do, but those are just fun facts.

While there are many references to cats, especially in the first verse, the song itself is not actually about cats. Rather, Bird uses stray cats as a metaphor for the experience of a culture that is conquered or invaded by another. What is truly remarkable about these lyrics is the impression he leaves, which creates many uncomfortable feelings which ultimately leave the listener with the idea that cultural domination is devastating and violating. After hearing the first line, "When our mouthes are filled with uninvited tongues of others", most people immediately think of rape, which, needless to say, is violating, violent, and unexpected. I believe that this impression was created on purpose to create negative feelings around the subject, Bird also uses the word 'tongue', which is a double entendre. The second usage of the word tongue refers to language, and there were many instances in which a conquering culture would force their language on those who they conquered. 

The first line of the second verse, "They shall enter from the back" also conjures up ideas of rape, but it also implies that the invasions were unexpected, and thus the people being attacked weren't prepared. The second and third verses describe the attack. By repeating the first verse, Bird reinforces the terrible effects of these kinds of wars. The second line, "And the strays are pining for their unrequited mothers", refers to all the children left motherless by the violence. However, it can also be interpreted as a reference to stray cats without mothers possibly because they were taken away by humans to be domesticated, or killed by humans. The last lines, "Milk that sours is promptly spat/Light will fill our eyes like cats/Cataracts" further the strengthens the metaphor to cats. Particularly the last two lines, since cat's have incredible vision and cataracts impair vision, which would leave the cat lost and confused, since it lost something it had always taken for granted, but didn't know how to live without, much like a culture taken over by another.