zaaaAP Lit SuperBlog

Hey, I guess I'm a poet too!

After reading the poems in our poetry packet that were writen by William Carlos William I am appaled. Poetry can not be simply a set of words that are randomly put together to form a written sample. I find it ridiculous that this man's "poetry" can even be considered poetry. Hey I guess I'm a poet too, (and I didn't even know it haha). To further illustrate my point I will now write a poem off the top of my head.

Computer Screen: By Paul E

Bright screen I see in front of me

I type away for my blog

It seems like fun but it is not

because I am not a poet. Who is?

Now who in their right mind would consider that poetry? That is what William Carlos Williams did when he wrote the poem The Red Wheelbarrow. This isn't poetry, these are sentence fragments! What do you think?

Journey Poem and Haiku

This is my journey poem and it is about text messaging with a girl. My Haiku is about age and time.

on a 50 story park it on top of the garage and watch
miles away from hand close to your heart
Watch the clock
curled fingers greatest expectation until your fingers touch the wheel

you never actually touch the engine
but just feel the vibrations
and respond

When you drive it out of the showroom it speeds along
the radio blares the infinite stupidity of music, politics, short isolated laughter
the car vibrates gently, never speaking,
what is says that is up to you 
safely moving, its time to get dangerous
turn off the radio and gun it
the car comes back,   

If Daisy's smile could stay
so could her fingers tapping on small board
a million miles away
But then again when she came back
straight into the plot
Totaled car totaled hope

Move Quick Young,
jealous old watching,
time is money, money is time

The Splatter Paint of Poetry

Today we had a discussion in class about what counts as poetry and what does not. The main poems in discussion were "The Red Wheelbarrow" and "This is Just to Say" because of their short length, simplicity, and lack of deeper meaning. In my opinion, I say these are poetry because they are a form of expression and they have meaning to someone. However, these poems are just too simple to be compared to some of the more complex poets we have read about. Even though I don't enjoy hunting for hidden meanings and being confused while reading more complex poetry, I respect that it probably took someone a long time to do it. Poems like "The Red Wheelbarrow" and "This is Just to Say" remind of a painting I saw in the art museum that I believed was called "Rodeo". It was a large canvas that was half gray and half red. As a whole, I would compare that kind of poetry to splatter paintings. They are nice and easy, but certainly don't compare to "The Sistine Chapel" or anything. Do others think that these simple poems deserve the same credit as the others?

Is It A Poem?

Today in class we had an argument over this poem and whether or not it really was a poem.

"This is Just To Say"

I have eaten 

the plums

that were in 

the icebox

and which 

you were probably 

saving 

for breakfast

Forgive me

they were delicious

so sweet 

and so cold

Many people were saying that this wasn't really a poem, that it was just a bunch of sentences divided into different lines, and indeed they kind of look that way.  The sentence "I stare at the clock until class ends because I'm bored" can become a poem if it's written like 

"I stare 

at the clock

until class ends

Because I'm bored"

But there is something about the poem (if we are for the time being going to call it that) "This is Just to Say" that I really liked even though it was so simple.  It made me think of a couple of events in my life that relate to this.  My brother stealing my cream soda that I hid in the back to save for later and also several occasions in which I have earned myself a tasty afternoon snack by claiming unmarked food in the stage crew fridge.  The fact that this poem connected with me, as well as the fact that I got some enjoyment while reading it makes me believe that this is indeed a poem.

Last semester for my Humanities class I had to write a paper titled "What is art"?  I decided that art can be anything as long as it means something so someone.  If a person is moved by the work, if they find something in it that is special to them, or even if it is the artist who put all their time and effort into something they feel proud of it, that can be considered art.  I feel this can connect to poetry too.  This poem made me laugh and made me think of something in my life.  Therefor I think it can be a poem.

There was one other part of the poem that I truly enjoyed.  The first line of the last stanza is "Forgive me".  He is not asking for forgiveness for doing anything terrible, he just ate her plums.  But you get a feel for the relationship between the two.  He wanted those plums so bad because they looked so delicious, and then he took the time to say sorry he stole them from her.  But he's not sorry that he ate them, just that they were hers.  

Because I Am Bad With Speaking...

Today in class I actually had something to say! Unfortunately, I don't think my ideas ever really got articulated. What can I say? I'm not good at talking. Therefore, I thought this was the perfect opportunity to express my opinion.

In short, I think Williams' writing is poetry. I will not deny the fact that they are definately not "traditional" and even seem too commonplace to be considered as publishable. Yes, it is talking about eating someone's food or the importance of a wagon, but that is what makes it interesting. We as the audience know what the poem is about. We always complain about writers being so elusive and cryptic. Well, this is what we have been waiting for!

Also, I believe that poetry should be about life. It doesn't have to be about life morals or neverending societal problems. Sometimes the beauty of life is what we encounter everyday. For example "This Is Just to Say" made me smile. Did nobody else find some humor in it? Walt Witman even said in his preface that poetry should be about life. In addition, he says that poetry should be about something that everyone should be able to understand and relate to. This poem nails both.

To me, poetry helps to shed new light on life. Through these simple poems, the audience will never look at a plum or wagon again.

Journey Poem

Here is my journey poem, the mode of transportation is white water rafting.

 

 

Shoes, life jacket, helmet
Do I have it all? Again.
Shoes, life jacket, helmet
The soggy silt squeezing its way between my toes
pushing, plowing through the tight space

straining to keep me grounded
Through all the steps again
Shoes, life jacket, helmet

 

I am there.
Feeling the power surging through my fingertips
every minute move has a purpose
every touch nudge of my hip
every angle my arms form
Sleek, Control.

 

But the impatient water starts to pull.
Shoes, life jacket, helmet
faster I am pulled through the restless water
white surges can overcome at... 
No, I still have control

Shoes, life jacket, helmet

 

Interactions between control and chaos
Shoes, life jacket, helmet
distressed deranging defenseless
clenching clamoring confusion
No! No. Focus.
Shoes, life jacket, helmet
Shoes, life jacket, helmet
Shoes, life jacket, helmet

Today in class we had a discussion about whether William Carlos William's Poem, "The Red Wheelbarrow" is considered poetry.  Well, in my opinion, poetry is open to the reader's interpretation of it.  While some may consider this not to qualify as a poem, others may find a deep meaning in something like this that is so simple and short.  As for me, I see the emphasis of this to be placed on a red wheel barrow, whether this qualifies as poetry in my book Im not so sure.  What do you think? Is this poetry or just some mumbo jumbo? 

 

so much depends

upon

 

a red wheel

barrow

 

glazed with rain

water

 

beside the white

chickens

The Simplicity of Poetry

So today we ended class with a really interesting discussion about whether William Carlos Williams poems could really be considered poetry. In this argument I leaned with the side arguing that it is poetry. I especially thought the comparison to "Snow Man " was interesting. We had just finished discussing about how Stevens talks about the appreciation of the simplicity of winter. Although winter can just seem like a blank dull state of the world, if you watch for it there is beauty in its simplicity. It reminded me of something one of my art teachers said, " never be afraid to leave blank spaces." This essentially meant that sometimes things can have more of an impact when they left in their simplest state. I think this is also true of William's poems as well. Although they just seem like sentences broken up in a weird way, there is a way to look at them and appreciate their simplicity.

On a slightly different note when Williams Poem, "This Is Just to Say" was read in class it reminded me of The radio show This American Life on NPR which this past weekend did a show with the theme: being sorry and not really meaning it. At the end of the show they included an act about this poem and parodies of it, which are mostly pretty good and also I think display how much one can imply even in a short poem. So if you have any extra time... http://scribalterror.blogs.com/scribal_terror/2005/04/this_is_just_to.html

What's in a Poem?

Today in class after discussing "Desert Places" by Robert Frost and "The Snow Man" by Wallace Stevens, our class began to talk about exact how Modernist poetry strays away from the Romantic idea of poetry, more specifically how Modernist poetry focuses on the literal meaning of words.

And one poem that seemed to stir up the discussion was William Carlos Williams Poem “The red Wheelbarrow.”

so much depends

upon

 

a red wheel

barrow

 

glazed with rain

water

 

beside the white

chickens

 

There seemed to be many different opinions on whether this poem was in fact a poem at all, or if it was just a sentence with odd spacing. In my opinion, this short and simple work is in fact a poem that seems to communicate a meaningful story of a wheelbarrow and how simple, yet important it is through great imagery. What does anyone else think? Poem or oddly spaced sentence?

Is it Really Poetry?

We had an interesting discussion today in class about William Carlos Williams' poetry.  More specifically, some of us asked: "Where is the meaning?"  While this is a valid question, I think we have to first define what "meaning" is.  Does it have to describe a thoughtful critique on our society, or can it simply just be about what "is"?  Should poetry always have a complicated metaphor that conveys some "deeper meaning", or can it have a simple and literal meaning?  I think that there are no right or wrong answers to these questions because the nature of poetry is subjective.  Just because one person declares a poem not poetry, it does not diminish what the poem is about.  Everyone is entitled to their opinions and this is what makes class interesting.  Personally, I think that class would be boring if everyone agreed with each other all the time.

I think that "This is Just to Say" by Williams is poetry.  Yes, it is simple.  It has no deeper meaning or complex metaphor.  It is about someone who could not keep from helping himself to the plums in the icebox.  I'm not sure about the rest of you, but this poem really made me want to eat a plum.  "they were delicious/ so sweet/  and so cold."  Williams' vague description of the plums still did what it was meant to do.  In other words, it is supposed to make the reader crave a plum.  The purpose is simple enough to cause some readers to question if it is poetry at all.  Some might argue that it is just a series of sentences that anyone could write or even speak, but in my opinion, Williams' style is not "too simple".  I appreciate the literal meaning in this poem after trying to decipher some more "traditional" poetry with flowery language and long verses.

To those who think that William Carlos Williams' work is not poetry, why do you think so?  Also, expand on your idea of what kind of "meaning" should poetry have.
              

Tough Journey

Although I do have to admit to procrastinating a little bit on writing it, I found the journey poem to be a little harder than I expected. When I was writing it, I wanted to try and write it so that there were absolutely no literal references to the actual rite of passage (in this case getting a job). However, each line I came up with seemed to only tie in to either the activity or the rite of passage, and I had a hard time finding a balance in between. What did everyone else think about the journey poem?

Real Poetry

What is poetry? If a person had never heard of poetry and walked into our classroom, they would have a pretty narrow view on what poetry is.  They would say Walt Whitman or Emily Dickinson is poetry, the end. But we all know that's not true. Don't get me wrong, poetry is awesome and all.  But to be honest, we have no diversity in the poetry we learn this year. All of it is this old crap nobody really wants to read, and then we figure out what the poem is a metaphor for.
What we need is some new poetry, some poetry people want to read and write. I'm talking about the poetry we listen to every day. Lyrics to songs are poetry, and we should be looking at those. It doesn't matter if we go back to Don McClean's "American Pie," get historical with Billy Joel's "We Didn't Start the Fire," keep the lovey-dovey poems by analyzing Hot Chocolate's "I Believe in Miracles," stay recent with Fort Minor's "High Road," talk about drugs with Red Hot Chili Peppers' "Under the Bridge," or go new and relevant with Common's "The Corner."
Mr. Heidkamp, this is my personal request that you expand your horizons. The lines you have set as poetry have turned into barricades that are preventing poets just as famous as the ones we are currently reading from entering our classroom. What you are doing is denying all your classes any form of diversity in their ability to think about and analyze poems. This is wrong and unjust. Your curriculum must change if you want your students to truly understand what poetry is.
I think poetry is about finding an emotion and putting it on paper or in a song. But I could be wrong. I will never know what poetry really is unless we explore. What do you guys think? Does anybody have a different definition of poetry? Anybody agree / disagree that we should expand our horizons

E.D.- Mixing It Up

I find Emily Dickinson's poetry really interesting. Though she wrote her stuff in what, the 1860's (?), I don't find it outdated at all. I really like that she can mix it up, like the two spring poems from opposing view points. I thought is was also really cool that she wrote "Wild Nights" from a male speaker's point of view.

In class I was in the group that had the "I'm 'wife'" poem, and I really like this one. Her sarcasm and the critical tone is so cutting, and if you think hard about her metaphors, I feel like they actually go really deep, and you can take them even further.

Two things about Dickinson's style that captures my attention. One, her use of capitalizing words. It reminds me of Arundhati Roy's writing style. The capitalization clues me in to the fact that those words might be important, and when reading aloud, I find I emphasize those words, too. Second, her use of dashes. She goes crazy with those things! I feel like in each poem she uses them differently. I especially liked the other day in class, when someone (who was it?) read them as hiccups for "I Taste a Liquor Never Brewed."

April is the Cruelest Month

After the quiz in class today about "I dreaded that first robin so" Bernie asked the class why someone would dislike spring.  A poem about dreading spring does seems to stick out compared to the hundreds about the miracles of nature and smells of spring, so in reverence to Emily Dickinson here a some possible reasons someone would dislike spring.

• reminds them of something sad
• reminds them that they are one season closer to dying
• bad allergies
• prefer milder and/or cooler temperatures
• feel uncomfortable wearing less clothing
• loves isolation
• Are afraid of bugs 
• Avid basket ball (other winter sport)watcher
• college decisions are soon due 
• they own a hot chocolate shop  

to name a few. Can you think of any others?

A Fan of Emily Dickinson

After reading Emily Dickinson's poem, "I dreaded that first Robin, so," I couldn't help but notice the stark contrast to her other poem "I taste a liquor never brewed".  My first impression of Emily Dickinson was that she loved nature, considered it a high, and couldn't get enough of it: "When Butterflies - renounce their 'drams' - / I shall but drink the more!"  This poem has a cheerful, pleasant tone and made me think of the author as a nature-loving person.  While the poem "I dreaded that first Robin, so" still incorporates nature, it seems to have a completely different meaning.  In the poem, the speaker is dreading the oncoming of Spring marked by the robin's song, the daffodils, and the bees.  The end of the poem shows the speaker's powerlessness with "They're here, though; not a creature failed."  I understand that  authors can write about different subjects, but the contrast between the two poems by Dickinson seems so great.  Does Emily Dickinson have a variety of styles or does she intentionally write poems like this?  I do enjoy reading her poems because I don't think they're very difficult to understand and I like her way of writing - but her choice of subjects is perplexing.

Poetry Again!

I have never been poetry's biggest fan. I could never understand it and I am probably the worst poet ever, but after we covered poetry last semester I am almost excited to try it again. I was slowly learning how to really dissect poems when we finished them last time and I am ready to try again now. It is so much different than simply reading a book. It is interesting to look at the text and think about it critically, like a math problem or something. Unfortunately, my ability to write poems has not improved nearly as much as my ability to read them has so I still kind of dread writing poems. Oh well.

Tricky Poetry

For the first time in my poetic life, I find myself excited to be writing a poem. The free verse poems we are currently writing about taking that major step in your life is probably the first poem I feel connected to. This connection is so powerful to me - and maybe to you guys, too - because as SENIORS we are about to experience many milestones in such a short time span. Prom, then about 2 weeks later, graduating high school, probably a few days after that a first job may begin, and 3 months later... OFF TO COLLEGE! Obviously Bernie find these events great starts to poems. But the reason I like these poems the best are the way they are written. Discreet. Almost like a puzzle you have to figure out the true meaning of. I'm interested to see how complex and thought out some of these poems turn out.

A Victory, then Tragedy

In honor of Abraham Lincoln’s Bicentennial Birthday Commemoration, and this being poetry month, I would like to share my reflections on the following poem, which I read in 8^th grade:

 

O Captain! My Captain!

 

O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done,

The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won,

The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,

While following eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;

But O heart! heart! heart!

O the bleeding drops of red,

Where on the deck my Captain lies,

Fallen cold and dead.

 

O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;

Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills,

For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding,

For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;

Here Captain! dear father!

This arm beneath your head!

It is some dream that on the deck,

You’ve fallen cold and dead.

 

My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still,

My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will,

The ship is anchor’d safe and sound, its voage closed and done,

From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won;

Exult O shores, and ring O bells!

But I with mournful tread,

Walk the deck my Captain lies

Fallen cold and dead.

 

(Source: The Portable Walt Whitman)

 

When we read this poem in my 8^th grade social studies class, we were studying the Reconstruction period of American history.  My teacher told us that Walt Whitman wrote this poem around 1865, when, days after the end of the Sectional (Civil) War’s end, Abraham Lincoln was assassinated.

 

Think of this time in history: The Sectional (Civil) War had ended, and everyone in the Union was rejoicing that the terrible war had finally ended.  Much of the language of this poem conveys this sense of great pomp and celebration: “the bells I hear, the people all exulting”, “bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths”, “the flag is flung”, and “the bugle trills”.  If you’ve seen the very beginning minute of the movie National Treasure 2: The Book of Secrets, you can see the great triumphant sentiment that was abounding.

 

So how crushing it must have been when Abraham Lincoln was assassinated.  The great victory was followed by the great tragedy.  President Lincoln had been the one who guided the Union through its most difficult years, and he had already been composing plans to reintegrate the Southern states back into the Union.  But before he could implement most of his plans, he was slain.  In fact, some history experts think that if Abraham Lincoln had lived out the rest of his term, the Reconstruction process would have proceeded much more smoothly.

 

The poem also has many words that express these tragic sentiments: “O the bleeding drops of red,/Where on the deck my Captain lies,/Fallen cold and dead.”  And the line “Fallen cold and dead” is repeated in each stanza, so it truly suggests that the speaker moves “with mournful tread”.

 

I believe that this poem accurately states the tragic sentiments that many people felt upon President Lincoln’s death.  It appears to demonstrate that Walt Whitman’s poetry reflected contemporary events that were happening in America, and that he felt deeply for the wounds of America’s soul.

Thanksgiving Haiku

Forgot to blog last week!  Hope I can get some points if I do it over the holiday weekend!  The haiku poems seem to be a hit.  Happy Thanksgiving!  

My stomach is full

My dad makes the best stuffing

Pie with whipped cream, yum!

Finally a break

Four day weekends can't be beat

Sleeping in past noon 

It all ends too fast

Got a paper due Monday

There goes my Sunday

Haiku Fun

Guys, I'm loving the haikus... Simple, interesting, and clever.

I think I'll try my own little series of haikus celebrating the weekend.

Finally Friday

Oh the posibilites

Love the week's payoff

Comfortable and warm

They're my weekend attire

Sweatpants are a gift

Still asleep at ten

No alarm for me today

Up in time for lunch

Ode to Swimming

Cold splash, morning rash

robust shoulders propel me

and ecstasy reins

An Ode to the Unamed Source:

Thank you my, big head,

For news before it happens,

 with a Judas kiss

I like Haikus because they're easy!

I like Ode Haikus, they're easy and fun to make.  So here's my friend's favorite of the ones I made

Ode to teenagers
Your drama entertains me
But it's annoying.

I have more, but here is my favorite:

Duh, Dumbledore Died

Little lady found out and cried

Wondered out loud "Why?!"

Also, I found a very funny video on youtube about what if metaphors and figurative language were not  used in songs.  My favorite line from the video was a parody of the Beatles's, "Yellow Submarine." 

It went like this,

"We are taking large amounts of pills,
Large amount of pills." 

Anyways, I'm not sure if I'm allowed to post links so, just youtube "Metaphor-Free Radio."  It's by a funny group under the user name of College Humor.
Last Haiku:

I am going to dread,

waking up soon in my bed,

Because I'll feel dead.

Ode to the Ice Cream Man

I love snow and cold weather but there are somethings that are not easily done in the winter... like eating ice cream. It has little place in the winter and I miss the ice cream trucks that would go around with their annoying little song.

Ode to the Ice Cream Man

sweet and sticky: cold

u deliver summer fun

with a merry tune

Ode to Christmas

As of right now there are only 34 days till Christmas!! (not including today, of course, because it is almost over).  Due to this, I could not restrain my excitement and decided to write a haiku for this magnificent holiday.

Roads of ice and sleet

Colors green and red flicker

Santa is coming

Confusing Conclusion

Last night I attempted to write a coherent first draft for an explication of "Song" by John Donne.  I actually didn't struggle with it as much as I thought I would.  I mean, we've practiced paraphrasing and finding literary terms and how they pertain to the meaning of the poem for a couple of weeks now.  The only thing that I had trouble with was the conclusion.  On the board, Mr. Heidkamp suggested that we have our conclusion coincide with the concluding stanza/couplet of the poem.  I found it difficult to analyze and conclude in one poem, without one thing overriding the other.  I ended up not really having a topic sentence and just paraphrasing then adding some concluding lines.  How did other people write their conclusions?  Did you just do separate poems for each stanza and have a separate paragraph for the conclusion, or did you do what Heidkamp suggested?  Maybe it depended on whether I was writing about a sonnet or a metaphysical poem, I don't know. 

An Ode to Yo Momma!

Poems are so fun.
They can be for everyone.
Now I read deeper.

I liked the sonnet.
The pattern had quite the flow.
Sadly, we moved on.

Metaphysical.
I tried the flea argument.
And she ran from me.

I said life was short.
We all sadly reach death.
Make love when you're hot.

And I'm romantic!
All my words are emotions.
Daffodils are nice.

Oh Bernie Heidkamp.
Your lessons are taught super.
What is life's meaning?

Yo Momma is cool.
She has got it going on.
I can mow your lawn.

I hope that was neat.
Poems can be quite the treat.
Do you like poems?

Ode To Dissent

To those unknown men
            and women at Haymarket:
            I deeply thank you.

Ode to Winter

My eyelids freeze shut
I squint through the white desert
On my way to school

Ode to Spring

The last time I was assigned to write a haiku was probably third grade.  Writing a haiku seems relatively simple considering there are only three lines, consisting of 5, 7, and 5 syllables.  However, I realized that that does not leave a lot of room in the poem to explain yourself.  Writing a haiku can require you to be concise and to really think about what you want to say. 

After reading "Ode to a Grecian Urn" and "Ode to Velcro Tabs", I decided to take a simple route like that of the latter poem to write my own Ode haiku:

"Ode to Spring"

Tulips come in spring.

The frozen ground becomes soft.

The smell makes me glad.