Sharon Olds
"George Gray"
by Edgar Lee Masters
I have studied many times
The marble which was chiseled for me—
A boat with a furled sail at rest in a harbor.
In truth it pictures not my destination
But my life.
For love was offered me and I shrank from its disillusionment;
Sorrow knocked at my door, but I was afraid;
Ambition called to me, but I dreaded the chances.
Yet all the while I hungered for meaning in my life.
And now I know that we must lift the sail
And catch the winds of destiny
Wherever they drive the boat.
To put meaning in one’s life may end in madness,
But life without meaning is the torture
Of restlessness and vague desire—
It is a boat longing for the sea and yet afraid.
“The B Network”
by Haki Madhubuti
I have studied many times
The marble which was chiseled for me—
A boat with a furled sail at rest in a harbor.
In truth it pictures not my destination
But my life.
For love was offered me and I shrank from its disillusionment;
Sorrow knocked at my door, but I was afraid;
Ambition called to me, but I dreaded the chances.
Yet all the while I hungered for meaning in my life.
And now I know that we must lift the sail
And catch the winds of destiny
Wherever they drive the boat.
To put meaning in one’s life may end in madness,
But life without meaning is the torture
Of restlessness and vague desire—
It is a boat longing for the sea and yet afraid.
“The B Network”
by Haki Madhubuti
brothers bop & pop and be-bop in cities locked up
and chained insane by crack and other acts
of desperation computerized in pentagon cellars producing
boppin brothers boastin of being better, best & beautiful.
if the boppin brothers are beautiful where are the sisters
who seek brotherman with a drugless head unbossed or beaten
by the bodacious West?
in a time of big wind being blown by boastful brothers,
will other brothers beat back backwardness to better & best
without braggart bosses beatin butts,
takin names and diggin graves?
beatin badness into bad may be urban but is it beautiful & serious?
or is it betrayal in an era of prepared easy death hangin on
corners trappin young brothers before they know the
difference between big death and big life?
brothers bop & pop and be-bop in cities locked up
and chained insane by crack and other acts
of desperation computerized in pentagon cellars producing
boppin brothers boastin of being better, best, beautiful
and definitely not Black.
the critical best is that
brothers better be the best if they are to avoid backwardness
brothers better be the best if they are to conquer beautiful bigness
Comprehend that bad is only bad if it’s big, Black and better
than boastful braggarts belittling our best and brightest
with bosses seeking inches when miles are better.
brothers need to bop to being Black & bright above board
the black train of beautiful wisdom that is bending this bind
toward a new & knowledgeable beginning that is
bountiful & bountiful & beautiful
While be-boppin to be
better than the test,
brotherman.
better yet write the exam.
"The History Teacher"
by Billy Collins
Trying to protect his students' innocence
he told them the Ice Age was really just
the Chilly Age, a period of a million years
when everyone had to wear sweaters.
And the Stone Age became the Gravel Age,
named after the long driveways of the time.
The Spanish Inquisition was nothing more
than an outbreak of questions such as
"How far is it from here to Madrid?"
"What do you call the matador's hat?"
The War of the Roses took place in a garden,
and the Enola Gay dropped one tiny atom
on Japan.
The children would leave his classroom
for the playground to torment the weak
and the smart,
mussing up their hair and breaking their glasses,
while he gathered up his notes and walked home
past flower beds and white picket fences,
wondering if they would believe that soldiers
in the Boer War told long, rambling stories
designed to make the enemy nod off.
"First Hour"
by Sharon Olds
That hour, I was most myself. I had shrugged
my mother slowly off, I lay there
taking my first breaths, as if
the air of the room was blowing me
like a bubble. All I had to do
was go out along the line of my gaze and back,
feeling gravity, silk, the
pressure of the air a caress, smelling on
myself her creamy blood. The air
was softly touching my skin and mouth,
entering me and drawing forth the little
sighs I did not know as mine.
I was not afraid. I lay in the quiet
and looked, and did the wordless thought,
my mind was getting its oxygen
direct, the rich mix by mouth.
I hated no one. I gazed and gazed,
and everything was interesting, I was
free, not yet in love, I did not
belong to anyone, I had drunk
no milk yet—no one had
my heart. I was not very human. I did not
know there was anyone else. I lay
like a god, for an hour, then they came for me
and took me to my mother.
Trying to protect his students' innocence
he told them the Ice Age was really just
the Chilly Age, a period of a million years
when everyone had to wear sweaters.
And the Stone Age became the Gravel Age,
named after the long driveways of the time.
The Spanish Inquisition was nothing more
than an outbreak of questions such as
"How far is it from here to Madrid?"
"What do you call the matador's hat?"
The War of the Roses took place in a garden,
and the Enola Gay dropped one tiny atom
on Japan.
The children would leave his classroom
for the playground to torment the weak
and the smart,
mussing up their hair and breaking their glasses,
while he gathered up his notes and walked home
past flower beds and white picket fences,
wondering if they would believe that soldiers
in the Boer War told long, rambling stories
designed to make the enemy nod off.
"First Hour"
by Sharon Olds
That hour, I was most myself. I had shrugged
my mother slowly off, I lay there
taking my first breaths, as if
the air of the room was blowing me
like a bubble. All I had to do
was go out along the line of my gaze and back,
feeling gravity, silk, the
pressure of the air a caress, smelling on
myself her creamy blood. The air
was softly touching my skin and mouth,
entering me and drawing forth the little
sighs I did not know as mine.
I was not afraid. I lay in the quiet
and looked, and did the wordless thought,
my mind was getting its oxygen
direct, the rich mix by mouth.
I hated no one. I gazed and gazed,
and everything was interesting, I was
free, not yet in love, I did not
belong to anyone, I had drunk
no milk yet—no one had
my heart. I was not very human. I did not
know there was anyone else. I lay
like a god, for an hour, then they came for me
and took me to my mother.
"The Quest"
by Sharon Olds
The day my girl is lost for an hour,
the day I think she is gone forever and then I find her,
I sit with her a while and then I
go to the corner store for orange juice for her
lips, tongue, palate, throat,
stomach, blood, every gold cell of her body.
I joke around with the guy behind the counter, I
walk out into the winter air and
weep. I know he would never hurt her,
would never take her body in his hands to
crack it or crush it, would keep her safe and
bring her home to me. Yet there are
those who would. I pass the huge
cockeyed buildings, massive as prisons,
charged, loaded, cocked with people,
some who would love to take my girl, to un-
do her, fine strand by fine
strand. These are buildings full of rope,
ironing boards, sash, wire,
iron cords wove in black-and-blue spirals like
umbilici, apartments supplied with
razor blades and lye. This is my
quest, to know where it is, the evil in the
human heart. As I walk home I
look in face after face for it, I
see the dark beauty, the rage, the
grown-up children of the city she walks as a
child, a raw target. I cannot
see a soul who would do it. I clutch the
jar of juice like a cold heart,
remembering the time my parents tied me to a chair and
would not feed me and I looked up
into their beautiful faces, my stomach a
bright mace, my wrists like birds the
shrike has hung up by the throat from barbed wire, I
gazed as deep as I could into their eyes
and all I saw was goodness, I could not get past it.
I rush home with the blood of oranges
pressed to my breast, I cannot get it to her fast enough.
"It’s a Woman’s World"
by Eavan Boland
Our way of life
has hardly changed
since a wheel first
whetted a knife.
Maybe flame
burns more greedily
and wheels are steadier,
but we're the same:
we milestone
our lives
with oversights,
living by the lights
of the loaf left
by the cash register,
the washing powder
paid for and wrapped,
the wash left wet:
like most historic peoples
we are defined
by what we forget
and what we never will be:
star-gazers,
fire-eaters.
It's our alibi
for all time:
as far as history goes
we were never
on the scene of the crime.
When the king's head
gored its basket,
grim harvest,
we were gristing bread
or getting the recipe
for a good soup.
It's still the same:
our windows
moth our children
to the flame
of hearth not history.
And still no page
scores the low music
of our outrage.
Appearances reassure:
that woman there,
craned to
the starry mystery,
is merely getting a breath
of evening air.
While this one here,
her mouth a burning plume -
she's no fire-eater,
just my frosty neighbour
coming home.
by Sharon Olds
The day my girl is lost for an hour,
the day I think she is gone forever and then I find her,
I sit with her a while and then I
go to the corner store for orange juice for her
lips, tongue, palate, throat,
stomach, blood, every gold cell of her body.
I joke around with the guy behind the counter, I
walk out into the winter air and
weep. I know he would never hurt her,
would never take her body in his hands to
crack it or crush it, would keep her safe and
bring her home to me. Yet there are
those who would. I pass the huge
cockeyed buildings, massive as prisons,
charged, loaded, cocked with people,
some who would love to take my girl, to un-
do her, fine strand by fine
strand. These are buildings full of rope,
ironing boards, sash, wire,
iron cords wove in black-and-blue spirals like
umbilici, apartments supplied with
razor blades and lye. This is my
quest, to know where it is, the evil in the
human heart. As I walk home I
look in face after face for it, I
see the dark beauty, the rage, the
grown-up children of the city she walks as a
child, a raw target. I cannot
see a soul who would do it. I clutch the
jar of juice like a cold heart,
remembering the time my parents tied me to a chair and
would not feed me and I looked up
into their beautiful faces, my stomach a
bright mace, my wrists like birds the
shrike has hung up by the throat from barbed wire, I
gazed as deep as I could into their eyes
and all I saw was goodness, I could not get past it.
I rush home with the blood of oranges
pressed to my breast, I cannot get it to her fast enough.
"It’s a Woman’s World"
by Eavan Boland
Our way of life
has hardly changed
since a wheel first
whetted a knife.
Maybe flame
burns more greedily
and wheels are steadier,
but we're the same:
we milestone
our lives
with oversights,
living by the lights
of the loaf left
by the cash register,
the washing powder
paid for and wrapped,
the wash left wet:
like most historic peoples
we are defined
by what we forget
and what we never will be:
star-gazers,
fire-eaters.
It's our alibi
for all time:
as far as history goes
we were never
on the scene of the crime.
When the king's head
gored its basket,
grim harvest,
we were gristing bread
or getting the recipe
for a good soup.
It's still the same:
our windows
moth our children
to the flame
of hearth not history.
And still no page
scores the low music
of our outrage.
Appearances reassure:
that woman there,
craned to
the starry mystery,
is merely getting a breath
of evening air.
While this one here,
her mouth a burning plume -
she's no fire-eater,
just my frosty neighbour
coming home.
“The Red Wheelbarrow”
by William Carlos Williams
so much depends
upon
a red wheel
barrow
glazed with rain
water
beside the white
chickens.
"anyhow"
by eric pellerin
is that my stillborn son in aisle 3
feet falling free
from the cart pushed by
daddy
he wants something he cant grab
just out of reach
can hardly see it now
what was it
anyhow
rounding the corner
gone
"The Two-headed Calf"
by Laura Gilpin
Tomorrow when the farm boys find this
freak of nature, they will wrap his body
in newspaper and carry him to the museum.
But tonight he is alive and in the north
field with his mother. It is a perfect
summer evening: the moon rising over
the orchard, the wind in the grass. And
as he stares into the sky, there are
twice as many stars as usual.
by eric pellerin
is that my stillborn son in aisle 3
feet falling free
from the cart pushed by
daddy
he wants something he cant grab
just out of reach
can hardly see it now
what was it
anyhow
rounding the corner
gone
"The Two-headed Calf"
by Laura Gilpin
Tomorrow when the farm boys find this
freak of nature, they will wrap his body
in newspaper and carry him to the museum.
But tonight he is alive and in the north
field with his mother. It is a perfect
summer evening: the moon rising over
the orchard, the wind in the grass. And
as he stares into the sky, there are
twice as many stars as usual.
Billy Collins
George Gray- This poem was one of my favorites because really sums up things that I think about all the time. He brings up questions like “what is the meaning of life” or “how can I make the most of my life”. You can spend your whole life looking for meaning and never finding it because you’re either too scared or too unsure to go anywhere, you’re stuck. I think what he was trying to convey is that in order to embrace life fully you need to sort of embrace where the wind takes you and appreciate the journey rather than the destination. You won’t go anywhere if you keep your ship anchored down
ReplyDeleteThe B Network- Off the bat, I felt that this moved very fast and was really hard to understand what he was saying. Despite the fact that I couldn’t hear all of the words, the tone was what spoke to me. His style of delivery shows me that he’s saying something powerful and that he’s passionate about it. Also, every once in a while when I could make out the words they were even more powerful. It’s like I had to put in effort to find them. I think that this is probably intentional and might represent how there are so many layers of challenges that black people face in America. It’s hard to simply lay them all out- its not clear cut and in order to empathize one has to dig a little deeper beyond the surface.
The History Teacher- This poem made me feel bad for the kids in this class. The teacher is making major events in history G-rated. I assume he is doing this to try and protect the kids but in reality its doing the opposite. By breaking down major violent events in history, the students will have trouble understanding a bigger picture of the world. They don’t see real consequences, this might connect to why they are acting out on the playground… they don’t see how these small violent actions can connect to something bigger, they don’t see what they’re doing is wrong because they were shielded from the dark side of history. This makes me think about my education. I feel like as I’ve gotten older history has become more “honest”. In elementary school we were definitely shielded from certain things. For example, learning about the first thanksgiving we were only taught the positives and we learned that Christopher Columbus was a hero who made all of these great discoveries. I feel like hiding the truth from kids is not ok and if they aren’t ready to learn what really happened then they should wait to learn it, rather than being told a fake version- that’s not constructive at all.
emily swenson
DeleteThe poems from this weeks blog post had much more variety in their structure and patterns. Personally I liked how different each poem was from another in layout and organization as well as content. My favorite would be Billy Collins’ “The History Teacher” because I found the humor in the poem more fun to read than the more serious poems. While it was a funny poem it still held elements of having a message and such of how to teach history. It didn’t have a rhyme scheme but the way the stanzas were organized emphasised words like “on Japan” and “the smart”. I think it was very cool how Collins fit so many jokes in such a short poem but in my opinion I prefer the kind of poem which is fun to read. Other poems like “B-Network” were fun to listen to because of all the B word alliteration which gave the poem a strange effect when listening to it out loud. “The Red Wheelbarrow” was another poem I found interesting because the content is very simple and not much of a message is shared so I thought it was strange. Poems like these make me wonder what makes a poem a poem because it's such a way idea for a poem to be so simple and share so little.
ReplyDeleteThe poem, "George Gray" really spoke to a phenomenon that I often reckon with, always coming back to the same conclusion. It reckons with the balance between security and risk, stillness and chaos, passion and mental stability. Everyday we are plagued by choices, often: to do or not to do? We can secure a lot by choosing not to do. Things won't change, we can hang onto what we have and minimize the risk of losing it. This is what Edhar Lee Masters speaks of when he writes,
ReplyDelete“For love was offered me and I shrank from its disillusionment;
Sorrow knocked at my door, but I was afraid;
Ambition called to me, but I dreaded the chances”
Along with losing stillness and comfort when we chose the trail not yet cleared, we risk feeling things we never have before. And maybe we are fine with that, maybe that is what we crave. Masters undoubtedly does:
“Yet all the while I hungered for meaning in my life.
And now I know that we must lift the sail”
This uncertainty brings a rush, a strengthening of self: you can only develop so much inside your head. To truly discover who you are, you must throw yourself, sometimes recklessly into things, letting you show you who you are.
But, this first jump is the easiest. What happens when you board this ship, throw apprehension to the wind, and sail. Yes, the sea spray showers your hair and you learn through the tribulations of life on the sea and in doing so you learn so much more about yourself. You “catch the winds of destiny/ Wherever they drive the boat.”
But then final storm approaches, the ship wrecks, you barely survive. What to do now? Sailing will surely never be this easy again, not that it was easy for the first time. I wish there was a sequel to this poem about risking it all again, after experiencing the true risk, coming face to face with the worst. Which is more feared: pain or numbness?
Yet, I always come back to the same conclusion: having profound, wonderful, tragic, thoughts, experiences, is better than having nothing at all. It is perfectly summed up in a quote that my improv teacher told us yesterday, “The anxiety is unbearable. I only hope it lasts forever.” -Oscar Wilde
When I first read (or heard) George Gray by Edgar Lee Masters, My immediate analysis of the poem led me to find the theme to have something to do with facing life even when we don’t know what is in front of us. As I went back, I started to find a lot of literary elements and rhetoric of structure. While the poem is not a sonnet, it still has shifts in meaning that can be more easily understood with the structure of the poem. By making the fifth line very short, it puts more weight on the already heavy phrase, building the tension that one feels when they are faced with thinking about the meaning of life. The personification of the emotions that Gray feels brings out this realization of his hesitation to pursue these feelings, thus tying back to the point that he has this boat, or ability to sail the seas of life, but doesn;t because he is afraid of what he will feel and find. The next angle of perception comes when he starts with “yet.” He admits to himself that he can only find the meaning of life if he lets go of his fears and allows his emotion and curiosity to wash over him. This idea is concluded when he compares how he obscures himself of his true self with how the boat longs for the sea (the meaning of life) but is too afraid to sail it. There are ultimately 4 angles of though, divided up into first the destination, then the personified emotions, then the realization of his destiny to pursue, and finally the analogy between obscurity and the fearful boat.
ReplyDeleteThis meaning of the poem is very similar to The History Teacher because in both poems, characters are shielded from the truth (historical accuracy or the meaning of life) because they are afraid to face, or afraid to let their students face, the pain that may come from it. This also relates to how the ending of a movie can be really good, but may be sad or scary. If we don;t watch the ending because we are afraid of the way it will make us feel, we will never feel satisfied by the movie.
Now that I think about it, when I first read the poem, I was able to capture the main idea even if I did not already have an in depth analysis of it. Your first glance at a poem is super important because you are most likely going to be able to see the meaning with a first glance. If you go back and analyse it line by line, you are more likely to get a deeper understanding, but you always run the risk of overthinking it and losing your natural reaction.
I like how in all of these poems there is a deeper meaning that it not obvious during the first time I heard or read them. The messages of the poems are hidden by very descriptive language and literary devices like alliteration, metaphors, and personification. Like in “George Gray”, when Masters wrote about the sailboat sailing in the “winds of destiny” it was a metaphor for a person’s life and the wind decides where that sailboat will go. And in “The History Teacher”, when Billy Collins used humor and human natural instincts to feel protective of children to convey an ironic message of the teacher protecting the innocence of his students who torment each other outside of class. In “The Quest” Sharon Olds also uses protectiveness and fear to convey her message but masks it with extremely detailed scenes. Details that seem unnecessary after the first read but are an important part of the poem and the poet’s rhetorical choices. “The B Network” was also a poem with a hidden meaning that I wouldn’t have been able to pick up on without reading it. Listening to Madhubuti read his poem almost made me laugh because of all the B words and also because most of the time I couldn’t understand what he was saying because of how fast he was reading and how well all the words blended together. But when I went back and read it again, I realized that this poem is definitely not something to laugh about and he covers many serious issues regarding race and injustice. The “First Hour” is also interesting because it is about the first hour of the narrator's life, which no one remembers and no one knows how they felt then. But Sharon Olds takes a unique approach and writes about the opposite of what most people would think that newborns feel during the first hour of their lives while they are screaming and crying, so it was an interesting and optimistic perspective.
ReplyDeleteI really enjoyed "George Gray" and the sail boat metaphors as well! Destiny and boats are all in the same boat.
DeleteIn an effort to not appear lazy, I will write this preface. Although I understand the notes taken during class and after were meant to help us develop this ultimate blog response, I think my notes offer a good overview of my thoughts on each with small bits of analyzation. Here, therefore, are those notes:
ReplyDeleteGeorge Gray: The regrets of not taking chances, of fearing change from the comfort you’ve established. “Like a boat longing for the sea, but also fearing it.” A way to tell readers to ‘not make the mistakes the author made,’ but live your life with risk so as to gain the ultimate reward of purpose in your life.
The B Network: Using the letter B to emphasize his message; to keep reader attentive at all points. Some rhyming scheme to keep the poem whimsical, a stark contrast to the power behind the sound of ‘B’ and the forlorn message he conveys about black people’s lives in America.
The History Teacher: A representation of history being taught in the US public education system, and how it is softened to be “appropriate” to children which only works to make the history become a lie. Also describes how history is taught in school to kids in a way that shapes them to become the very enemies they were supposed to learn not to become because the enemies don’t seem as bad when softened and are seen as more favorable, like how people favor the villains in novels/movies.
First Hour: A wondrous, beautiful description to birth (beautiful process in itself, but in the moment painful and kinda gross) from the point of view of a newborn. Describing the alieness of a newborn in terms of their experiences, though many can agree to them seeming alien when first looked at.
The Quest: Mothers fear from being away from her daughter , shielding her from the cruel world, a world where she finds evil in everything.
It’s a Woman’s World: Women are still failing to make great progress in life, confined to the role of caregiver. By allowing ourselves to be the ‘caregiver’ and only such, the woman’s possibility to become something great becomes null. Although in some cases in history women have been shown as strong and great, the
The Red Wheelbarrow: The poem is interesting not necessarily for its topic, but for its unique spacing which allows the reader to play with the lines and rearrange them to create different puzzles with different images.
Anyhow: A representation of what it means to be a toddler: absent minded, no regret, no guilt, free from the constriction of time.
The Two-Headed Calf: The wonders of being odd/unique to give one a different perspective from the ordinary the non-creative can never experiences.
“It’s a Woman’s World” by Eavan Boland looks at the role of women in history. When I first read this poem, I didn’t understand what it was saying, because of the structure and the language. But when I read it a second time, the meaning seemed to reveal itself. The line “our way of life/ has hardly changed” made a clear statement that the expectations of women have not changed much. Women are still viewed as weaker and are expected to keep the same role of housekeeper that they have held for thousands of years. Though other things have changed, our role has not. The line that really struck me was “like most historic peoples/ we are defined, by what we forget/and what we will never be:/ star-gazers,/ fire-eaters.” When learning history we learn about wars, leaders, and events, most of which revolve around men. We get small paragraphs in history books about how women would take care of the children and the home. Women are defined in history as what they were not. They were not leaders, or soldiers, or generals. They were housewives. The lines about how women are not “star-gazers” or “fire-eaters” was especially powerful to me because it shows how women were not expected to have ambition or hold positions of power. The line “Appearances reassure:/ that woman there,/ craned to
ReplyDeletethe starry mystery,/ is merely getting a breath/ of evening air.” shows how the ambition and accomplishments of women were downplayed and excused as something else, since women were not supposed to be curious and earnest. The image of a woman staring curiously into the sky being excused as just going out for some air is one that will stick with me and will remind me that women can be anything they want to be.
To begin, I have to say that analyzing a poem from your first thoughts of just hearing it significantly helps a further analysis because often times, the first idea of what a poem is saying is the correct interpretation. If not, it allows for later recognition and more understanding as to what the author of the poem was trying to say throughout it. While hearing and reading all of the poem on this post, I felt that “George Gray” was the most impactful, at least to me. When I first read it, I wrote down what I had heard and read, with the many personifications as well as metaphors in the poem, some being, “sorrow knocked at my door” and “ambition called to me”. But while writing a response in my meditative journal, the analysis of the poem came to me that the boat represented a person, whose ocean carried them through the ocean with “winds of destiny”. The ocean represented life in general because a person never knows what is going to come at them, but just experiences the journey on the way to the destination of the “boat”. By Masters saying that one must “lift the sail”, I interpreted this as one must let go and let the ocean direct them into the direction they are meant to go in. The beginning of this poem even gave meaning to what it was trying to say within the first four lines by describing the boat, laying in the harbor. Then saying that this boat pictures not the destination it goes to, but his life. The poem’s structure truly helps one interpret what the poet is trying to say because the way it is organized could allow for further knowledge behind the rest of the poem. For example, in “George Gray”, Masters says that he pictures not the destination, but the person’s life; this helped for the reader to know that the boat is being used to compare one’s life and the rest of the poem will be used to help the reader understand more about what the poet is trying to say.
ReplyDeleteI actually enjoy this type of poetry rather than the sonnets. It is much easier for me to understand it and I just personally enjoy reading them more. George Gray by Edgar Lee Masters was the first poem I read. I liked this poem because not only did Edgar talk about himself in the poem but he made a connection to those that are lost in life. He uses a boat at harbor to symbolize George Gray’s journey in finding the meaning in his life. He talks about how he wasted his time in life trying to figure out what to do in his life. “We must lift the sail and catch the winds of destiny wherever they drive the boat,” this metaphor displayed in George Gray exemplifies how we should have our destinies find us rather than us looking for them. Another poem that gripped my attention was “The Quest” by Sharon Olds. I like how the speaker used flashbacks from past to present day talking about her missing daughter. She uses a lot of descriptive imagery to illustrate the idea of evil and beauty within humans. Listening to“The B Network” in class I thought it was a fun rap/poem Haki Mudhubuti performed, but reading it later I realized there was much more to it. He talks about his African American culture and how not only the white supremacists are targeting the blacks but how also his black brothers are imitating the white middle class and alienated themselves from the black community.
ReplyDeletethe poem that stuck with me the most was "First Hour" by Sharon Olds. I have read this poem before and its one of my favorites, the feeling of the poem just feels fresh and new. One of my favorite lines in the poem is “everything was interesting, I was free…” It makes me miss being put in new environments and having these new experiences. Since highschool started i feel like i have been stuck in the same mundane loop everyday, so reading this poem and reading that line made me excited to start the next chapter of my life and made me excited for change. I just remember as a kid, seeing new things was so exciting and always so fun, now I just take having new experiences for granted. I also love how she uses “i was free” to describe it. I feel so trapped because not much is new and exciting to me right now, so it was refreshing to have that small sense of what it's like to get that. This poem sits well with me now because when i'm off to college ill be in a whole new environment and ill feel like everything is exciting, and definitely having more independence, I will feel more free. She also says in the poem “I do not belong to anyone.” That fits with me when I go to college because I won't have a “home” yet. While im there im sure ill trademark places and groups where I feel like im most myself, but that will take some time and effort to develop. Overall, this poem inspired me to go out and create new experiences in my life and have a small “rebirth” even if it means I just immerse myself into a new environment every once and awhile.
ReplyDeleteSome of these poems I enjoyed more. Some, while I appreciate the creativity, I just don’t prefer due to metaphor, word choice and the overall tone of the poem. I enjoyed “George Gray” and the boat comparisons. Life and boats tie in very well. The journey one sets out on, the crew needed to manage a boat, the calm waters, and the roaring waves. A boat is a very good comparison for life, and it isn’t overused in the poem. “The History Teacher” had the best message delivery, in my opinion. This message being that innocence will be inevitably lost, it is how you deliver this final blow that transforms a child. By not educating the children and left to their own devices, they reacted violently. Had the teacher explained the nature of these events, the children might have resonated more with their classmates and not bully them. Sharon Olds’ work just always creeps me out and unsettles me. I never really like her work, but her imagery is vivid. The last poem I really enjoyed was “The Two-headed Calf” because of how quirky and simple it is. It’s about a two-headed calf, and it will be taken away to be seen by all in the morning, but on this last night can see more than just one starry sky, but two. That’s quite true. And I relate to it as we are leaving for college and transitioning to a new era in our lives. But for the few blissful months we have left in our senior year, we are really living iridescently and sensationally, seeing more than one starry sky.
ReplyDeleteWhile reading through these poems, “The History Teacher” by Billy Collins stood out to me. I loved the humor in it, but the underlying truth kept it from being too silly. Collins writes about how we water down history so that children can more easily wrap their minds around it at the expense of accuracy. This poem borders on satire as it exaggerates the extent of history removed from elementary curriculum, but it effectively gets the point across. Having taken AP US History last year, I gathered a detailed knowledge of just how far astray my elementary school teachers have led me. Columbus was not on good terms with the Native Americans by any means. The slave trade wasn’t just “bad” it was an atrocity so horrible words cannot be put to it. Also, the structure of the poem made it easier to understand. The stanzas have a greater likeness to paragraphs in that each contains a main idea. Perhaps it is simply because of the message, or the straightforward structure, but I loved this poem. Unfortunately, I did not love every poem on this list, and I would go so far as to say I disliked “The Red Wheelbarrow” by William Carlos Williams. This is the sort of poem that gives poetry a bad reputation. It is so short that it is difficult to gain any meaning from it, and it’s structure appears so haphazard that it is difficult to see any purpose behind it. However, even here, there are patterns. Each of the four stanzas consist of one line with three words followed by a line with one word, and there are no capital letters. Even having noticed these patterns, after several readings of this poem, I can’t understand it’s purpose. What depends on a red wheelbarrow? Why does the rainwater on it matter? What is the importance of the chickens? I could learn to like poetry such as this if each came with context, but right now, I am lost.
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ReplyDeleteI thoroughly enjoy freeform poems over sonnets. I believe they offer poets a more malleable outlet to their creativity, and thus are truer to the meaning the authors are trying to convey. The last Poem, "The Two-headed Calf" by Laura Gilpin, is my favorite on the list, it is so simple yet so thoughtful. In nine lines Gilpin is able to describe the arc the two-headed calf is destined to go through, from its birth to its certain death; only she does it backwards, presenting the animal’s “tomorrow” fatal fate, and the shallowness that will ultimately cause it, to then return to “tonight”, where everything is good and pure in the calf’s brief life. She describes the “perfect summer evening” and how in that one moment, regardless of “tomorrow”, the calf can still enjoy the beauty of “tonight”.
I find this poem to crash with Edgar Lee Masters’ “George Gray”, where the narrator is desperately in search of something they are too afraid to pursue. Having an insufferability long life, the narrator is met with many opportunities, but is ultimately too afraid to engage in any of them. “Love”, “sorrow” and “ambition” come to become lingering themes in his life, yet he is so afraid to fail, he chooses not to try at all.
While the baby calf was presented with an incoming challenge, it was still capable of enjoying a single moment with all of it’s naiveness and bliss, while the Masters’ character, with his incessant searching, was so reluctantly debating the meaning of his life, he apathetically watched it go by.
As someone who considers themselves to be far more scientific and analytical than creative, the art of poetry has occasionally seemed a mystery to me. Despite this fact, I found all of these poems to be captivating, and even beautiful. Each poem had its own charm, and it's own purpose, that made it unique and separate from any other creation. Although I personally can sometimes have a tough time teasing the meaning out of the poem, once I stopped trying to “beat them with a hose”, and simply enjoyed them, I almost found it a little easier to understand them. Out of all of these poems, the most enjoyable part for me was looking at each ones specific mode of expression. For example, in “The B Network” by Haki Madhubuti, through the use of a rapid sort of chorus filled with the repetition of the B sound, differing only slightly in lines, he draws attention to these differences, and the juxtaposition between the rest of the poem. This is only accessible when it is read properly, as had I simply read it silently in my head, I would never have gotten the cadence, and therefore the meaning, correct. Some poems, such as "It’s a Woman’s World", by Eavan Boland, use shorter choppier lines, split up into smaller stanzas, to portray a more disjointed poem, with more shifts from subject to subject. Others, like “The Quest” by Sharon Olds, are one long, comma filled stanza. This leads to a more complex seeming, cohesive poem, reading more like a story. Then there is “anyhow”, by Mr. Pellerin, a poem that contains no punctuation whatsoever, and becomes briefer and more rushed as it continues. This gives it the feeling of a fleeting moment, retreating into the horizon, getting farther with each second, and making it a beautiful poem, made all the more so by its simplicity. Similarly, in “The Red Wheelbarrow”, by William Carlos Williams, it is the simplicity and briefness that make it a powerful poem, leaving much of the interpretation up to the reader. Each of these poems has their own message to offer, and each does it in it's own way. I find it amazing to look at the effect the structure has on a poem, as it can be just as, if not more important than the content.
ReplyDeleteI was intrigued by the poem “The History Teacher” as I found it to be an accurate description. While it was very funny and entertaining to read, it was also what many history teachers do. In particular, elementary school teachers have a tendency to hide the truth, as they want to preserve the children’s innocence and not upset them with accurate knowledge of events. As we discussed in class earlier in the year, this is very problematic. Many people become very stubborn as they get older, and refuse to change their views on something they have known since they were a child. Whether it’s finding out someone you supported did something terrible, or a new fact like that the pilgrims were not friends with the native americans. This, in particular, is a common thing teachers lie about that is very bad for society. By teaching this, many people go into adulthood with this belief still, and it is hard to tell someone like that that they were wrong for their entire life. It is important that we know the truth because we have holidays like Thanksgiving and Columbus Day in celebration of coming to America and allegedly having a big feast with the natives, when really we came to America and enslaved the natives, stole their land, and killed them. Going back to the poem, it really emphasizes the ridiculousness of lying to children, as the teacher seemingly did it for his own amusement as well as to protect them. With the claims being so far from the truth, it showed how unnecessary it was to lie.
ReplyDeleteI totally agree with your lies of innocence perspective. Learning in middle and high school that the people we were taught to idolize and be proud of were actually people that also broke every moral we are also taught is devastating, and confusing for one self. The balance between giving too much and giving not enough information is still being decided, but efforts to find that balance has not been progressed on in society and that's a true issue we have.
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ReplyDeleteI like this type of poem a little better than sonnets, although I enjoy them both. This type of more freeform is better to me because it is less restrictive, to both write and read. Sonnets, while very interesting and beautiful, can at times be difficult to read, if you need to put too much or different emphasis on something. It can also be difficult to write for similar reasons, trying to get things to rhyme.
ReplyDeleteMy favorite poem from the provided selection was "George Gray". I thought that it had a lulling sort of rhythm to it that made it enjoyable just to read. The metaphor of the boat with the sail was nicely woven into the rest of the poem. Additionally, the message overall is powerful and important: you must risk putting meaning into life. The message was subtle, even though it was said outward. I thought that overall it was a graceful poem. I also really liked "The Quest" by Sharon Olds. It was more menacing, but just as powerful. It is a story of the fear of bad people or "the evil in the human heart". It focuses on a trip to the grocery store to get juice, such a mundane task. As it continued, it gets more sad. It revealed the narrator's trauma and the stress of loosing her daughter, if even for a moment. It was heartbreaking and well written.
Of each poem, I found the most significance in the poem "George Gray" by Edgar Lee Masters. In the poem, Masters draws a comparison between a boat, and his life. Opening by talking of how the boat in the harbor with "furled sails" represents himself. Upon understanding that a boat with furled sails, is a boat with sails that have been put into a position or wrapped so they will catch no wind, this line takes meaning. If Masters is the boat, the sails are his taking of the opportunities life gave him and using it to create meaning. However his sails are furled, and he has not taken the chances life has provided him. He reminisces on his opportunities of love, meaning and anything in between. To his disappointment, he was the boat with furled sails which sat comfortably in the harbor to avoid risk of damage to his hull; because of this, he looks back with regret.
ReplyDeleteLooking back, Masters now understands that we should "life our sails" and let the winds of destiny carry us. We should not hide, afraid of life, sails furled, avoiding the winds of destiny which will carry us to the meaning of our life.
Lastly, Masters compares life without meaning to a boat without the sea.
"But life without meaning is the torture
Of restlessness and vague desire—
It is a boat longing for the sea and yet afraid."
To me, this line completes the metaphor the poem was intended to create. Those who have not found meaning in their life and hope for it, may be looking in the wrong places; or not at all. The "sea" in Masters' metaphor is the mystery, opportunity and greatness that life and its meaning may provide. However, to sail the sea your sails must be unfurled and ready to accept the winds of destiny.
I particularly enjoyed this poem for many reasons, I enjoyed the flow, it was very thoughtful, and in my opinion it held the most significance. It is thoughtful because Masters has lived his life and in looking back writes a poem filled with regret for opportunities missed. To make up for his missed opportunities and lack of meaning, he guides others to meaning with the advice in his writing. In turn, his poetry is his meaning. He has finally opened his sails and the winds of destiny have lead him to be a writer, and share his art with others.
When we read the poems in class, I was confused by many of them on the initial read. I would focus my attention to some parts but lose sight of the poems as a whole. When I came home and spent time with each poem, I started to get a better sense of what they all meant. This is likely due to the fact that I have had heavy exposed to poetry throughout school. Thus, it takes me multiple reads to better understand what the general message behind each poem is. For example, when first listening to The B Network, my mind kept wandering to the next instance where Madhubuti would use a “B-word,” rather than focusing on the poem as a whole. But when I read this poem again, at home, I paid little attention to “B-words” and more to the meaning of each line. I felt that for all the poems attached on the website, I was better able to understand it when reading it, not when listening to it.
ReplyDeleteIn my opinion my favorite poem was the Two headed Calf. I feel like this sonnet can be used to demonstrate the relationship between a child and the world. When a child is born he isn't born with any prenotions of society or the expectations that will fall upon him as he grows old. The entire poem revolves around how the two headed calf is unaware of what is going to happen to him and he is simply living his life looking at the stars. It can be inferred that his freak of nature is going to be paraded around and will most likely not live the life that many of his fellow calfs live.
ReplyDeleteI think it is really interesting how people think about and grapple with death. A concept so feared by many yet studied so much to uncover a mystery that can never be uncovered. I found “First Hour” by Sharon Olds to be very interesting because it talks about birth and the freeness of a new life. Birth and death are very similar yet many don’t accept that because death is mysterious and unknown yet birth has already happened though no one remembers. Longing over the inevitability of death is a waste of life. As Edgar Lee Masters says in “George Gray,” “To put meaning in one’s life may end in madness, but life without meaning is torture.” If we can accept death then we can live a more fulfilling life. For some people, religion provides this piece of mind. Like John Dunn says, “die not, poor death, nor yet canst thou kill me.” Billy Collins “The History Teacher” highlights this inability for people to confront the truth and continue to live in illusion.
ReplyDeleteI found all the different structures of the poems interesting and different providing hidden messages waiting to be uncovered and interpreted by the reader. “The B Network,” for example, was entertaining and fun to listen to but later reading it, it spoke of matters not to be amused by.
The poem I found the most interesting sounding was “The B Network” by Haki Madhubuti. When we watched the reading of the poem, it struck me how differently it sounded in comparison to how most poems are read. Usually we read poems, thinking about meaning and word choice, not the movement that words form with our tongue. Literature is heavily connected with reading, a singular sense of just our sight, the words on a page or screen are one dimensional. But hearing this poem introduces a new sensation. His cadence and diction made the rhythm of his poem stand out. The repetitive “b” notes flowed through my ears, a mystical sound that holds my attention, though the translation is lost. The first time I heard the poem, the bump ba bu bum, the meaning is subsided and movement and vibration overcome me. Returning to the text, the words read differently, his trumline of words beating on my lips. Madhubuti unconventional writing provides new insights on the social political stance he takes with viewing education and its connection to African American culture. In his writing style he is able to grasp a clear sense of African American vernacular, playfully incorporating urban language. This poem unifies African Americans by establishing a strong viewpoint on social and political stances and uses his words to create a new type of African Americans, people who are innovators and producers of positive change.
ReplyDeleteA poem that stuck out to me was “The History Teacher” by Billy Collins. In the poem, a teacher changes historical events to make them more tolerable. Collins writes “Trying to protect his students' innocence he told them the Ice Age was really just the Chilly Age, a period of a million years when everyone had to wear sweaters.” While this teacher is trying to protect his students innocence he is robbing them of a proper education. Changing world events won't change the fact that they did indeed happen. By trying to protect students innocence the teacher is doing more harm than good. I do understand wanting to shield people from awful things but although some things are hard to hear it's necessary information to know. In personal experience some of the things ive learned in school are upsetting but i'd rather know than not know. You need to know the past to understand the present and prepare for the future. It wouldn't be fair to lie to people because this gives them false views of the world. This reminds me of learning about world events at a younger age and big portions of the story would be left out. I get this on some levels as when your younger you are not as mature. This can be somewhat acceptable because as you get older you learn about the same topics but more in depth and know the whole entire truth, building off of what was given to you previously.
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