Poetry Journal #16 - Natalie

While Natalie Wood twirls in the Tennessee night
suspended above trucks
Billy pushes me down on the seat
fumbles with my bra.

He's heavy and clumsy
wants me for his steady girl
leaves a hickey on my breast.

I know how to hide traces of sex
with powder and perfume
how to please penis and mama
at the same time

go through a string of Billies
settle out of state
for one of them.

Years later Natalie falls off a boat.

I dream I'm treading water when
she reaches for help.
Afraid of going under
I watch her drown.

-Chella Courington, Southern Girl Gone Wrong


What fascinates me in this poem is the interplay between the speaker and Natalie Wood. At the beginning Natalie "twirls above trucks," presumably on a movie screen at a drive-in theatre. In that scene, the speaker is being "pushed down" by Billy, so there is an interplay between the elevation of the two women. Later in the poem the speaker dreams of watching Natalie wood in the ocean near the boat she fell off of. The poet, treading water, could reach out to help Natalie, but is afraid of going down herself and so watches her drown. So by the end of the poem the two women have switched positions. Going back to the beginning of the poem, perhaps the Speaker feels herself "drowning" under the Billies of the world, and has finally found a way from drowning, though still in the water.

Poetry Journal #15 - Morning Poem

Every morning
the world
is created.
Under the orange

sticks of the sun
the heaped
ashes of the night
turn into leaves again

and fasten themselves to the high branches --
and the ponds appear
like black cloth
on which are painted islands

of summer lilies.
If it is your nature
to be happy
you will swim away along the soft trails

for hours, your imagination
alighting everywhere.
And if your spirit
carries with it

the thorn
that is heavier than lead --
if it's all you can do
to keep on trudging --

there is still
somewhere deep within you
a beast shouting that the earth
is exactly what it wanted --

each pond with its blazing lilies
is a prayer heard and answered
lavishly,
every morning,

whether or not
you have ever dared to be happy,
whether or not
you have ever dared to pray.

-Mary Oliver, Dream Work

What surprises me about this poem is the quantity of punctuation. For such a short poem there is a large number of commas and periods. I think that the poet uses the punctuation as a way of creating a slow reading of the poem. The poem is titled "Morning Poem" and has an overall feeling of a slow awakening, and I believe that the poet's use of punctuation accents that nicely.

I enjoy the lines "If your spirit carries with it the thorn that is heavier than lead." It's a very artful way to articulate a cynicism or depression that most people find present in their spirits from time to time.

I think that overall, the poet's message in the poem is that, despite any difficulty you may feel in yourself or in the outside the world, each morning that you awaken is a prayer answered, is a blessing. From the beauty of the way light changes leaves from heaps of ash in the darkness to defined works of stained glass to the way black fabric becomes ponds and islands with lilies, the morning brings life and light to the world, and to you.

Poetry Journal #14 - Love

The boy at the far end of the train car
kept looking behind him
as if he were afraid or expecting someone

and then she appeared in the glass door
of the forward car and he rose
and opened the door to let her in

and she entered the car carrying
a large black case
in the unmistakable shape of a cello.

She looked like an angel with a high forehead
and somber eyes and her hair
was tied up behind her neck with a black bow.

And because of all that,
he seemed a little awkward
in his happiness to see her,

whereas she was simply there,
perfectly existing as a creature
with a soft face who played the cello.

And the reason I am writing this
on the back of a manila envelope
now that they have left the train together

is to tell you that when she turned
to lift the large, delicate cello
onto the overhead rack,

I saw him looking up at her
and what she was doing
the way the eyes of saints are painted

when they are looking up at God
when he is doing something remarkable,
something that identifies him as God.

-Billy Collins, Nine Horses


I find this poem interesting because of the description of the girl. The speaker, who in the poem is an observer of the interaction between the boy and the girl, doesn't give any indication of the woman's emotion, or action beyond describing her as "somber" and that she enters the cabin and lifts the cello into the overhead compartment. And yet, he calls her an angel, and describes the boy's eyes upon her as comparison to the saints looking upon god.

I think that there is extreme magic to the last two stanzas to this poem. It's a somewhat ordinary description up until then, and then it takes this fantastical descriptive twist. One would never have expected the boy's eyes to be described in such a manner, or have the girl compared to a painting of God. The poem ends in a very special way in that manner.

Poetry Journal #13 - I Don't Blame Charles Bukowski...

Full Title: I Don't Blame Charles Bukowski, But I Think I've Benn Sucked Into The Volvox And I'm Really Scared


I'm in the CopyCat bar
with my countrymen,
the seven thousand
bastard apostles
of Charles Bukowski.
I'm a poet.
I'm a poet too.
And I'm an augmented waitress
in a peek-a-boo bra.
And we're discussing
hashish and Baudelaire
and immaculate conceptions
and breast reductions
as lesbian conspiracies.
Most of us are red
and sweaty.
All of us are green
and watery,
squatting in the bar light
like seven thousand
Mickys' Bigmouths
transmogrified.
And I'm dressed nice
but out of money.
So I drink the drinks
that other people leave behind.
I don't let the rim
of the glass
touch my mouth.
I just tilt
back my head
open wide
and swallow fast.
I do this naturally
without gagging
and I'm so good at it
that several of my countrymen
ask if I've ever been
a sword swallower.
Yes I have.
I specialized
in all things sharp
and orally metallurgical:
Mayakovsky
and "Ecce Homo."
I was good.
I had an ageny
and a brilliant career.
In one deep breath,
I ingurgitated
all of "A cloud in Trousers,"
"The Antichrist"
and a Physicians Desk Reference
for college students
all over the East.
And as an encore
I'd take four, five,
six syllable words
from the audience,
light them on fire
and swallow
two at a time.
Penultimate. Evisceration. Eventually
it got out of control.
When no one was around
I'd gulp so much
High Latin Mass
and Ancient Etruscan
that I became
almost pure ornamentation
from the lips down.
It felt so weird
I was scared.
I swallowed a roll
of fine gauge
chicken wire
to trap unnecessary
elaboration.
Then I bought myself
a flotation peek-a-boo bra,
a pneumatic teddy,
and a vat of Mickys' Bigmouth
to float in.
And I floated
until I got almost
all feeling back.
Now I feel like
my countrymen
and they feel
like me.
And we feel
like another beer.
-Dian Sousa, Lullabies For The Spooked and Cool

The speaker in this poem sounds to me like the poet herself, speaking generally about her relationship with poetry.

What surprises me about this poem is the location, a seedy bar. The speaker seems to be a reasonably intelligent, well-spoken, and well-read person, and yet she is located in what seems to be a very seedy bar. This disparity makes for a very interesting environment.

I think that the Poet is speaking of the realism and honesty required in poetry. She states that she had a brilliant career, an agency and then started ingurgitating five-syllable words, and it got out of hand. I think she is speaking of when poetry becomes more ornamental than meaningful. When the length and intelligence of the word eclipses the meaning of each word and the overall message of the poem. I think that, also, that is why the poem takes place where it does, in a seedy bar. Originally it seemed so delightfully inappropriate, but I think she is saying, through the location, that the down-to-earth person is the real roots of poetry.

Poetry Journal #12 - Let Me Die a Youngman's Death

Let me die a youngman's death
not a clean and inbetween
the sheets holywater death
not a famous-last-words
peaceful out of breath death

When I'm 73
and in constant good tumour
may I be mown down at dawn
by a bright red sports car
on my way home
from an allnight party

Or when I'm 91
with silver hair
and sitting in a barber's chair
may rival gangsters
with hamfisted tommyguns burst in
and give me a short back and insides

Or when I'm 104
and banned from the Cavern
may my mistress
catching me in bed with her daughter
and fearing for her son
cut me up into little pieces
and throw away every piece but one

Let me die a youngman's death
not a free from sin tiptoe in
candle wax and waning death
not a curtains drawn by angels borne
'what a nice way to go' death

-Roger McGough


It's clear that in this poem, the speaker is speaking of himself and the intended audience is the world at large or a deity who has control over fate. It does not seem to be a prayer or plea to god, since the sincerity of he poem is somewhat in question due to the humor involved.

The Speaker desires to die a "youngman's death" which, since death does not often strike the young, he interprets to mean one that is dramatic, not easy or slow, most specifically not a "what a nice way to go" death.

The Speaker clearly has somewhat of a disdain for the slow, natural and peaceful death that the majority of the world claims to seek. He prefers the options of being mowed down by a red sports car, being shot by gangsters, or being murdered by his wife for committing adultery.

Overall, I think that his message is that there is as much life in the method by which you die as life you live beforehand. He wants his death to be an event worth of the life lived beforehand, not a quiet passage into the next world.

This poem reminds me of the quote:

Life should NOT be a journey to the grave
with the intention of arriving safely
in an attractive and well preserved body,
But rather to skid in sideways,
chocolate in one hand,
wine in the other,
body thoroughly used up,
totally worn out and screaming
"WOO HOO what a ride!"

CAI Lab 11/20 - Love Poem & Erotic Poem

In any poetic form (free verse, sonnet, ode…) try your hand at writing a poem that expresses love. Try to find the precise, concrete language that touches the unmistakable source of feelings you have for someone. Your poem can be about any kind of love, not necessarily romantic love. Remember: in the course of the poem, never use the word love.

Imprisoned

I keep you
in the deepest
most labyrinthine
corridors of my chest
where the darkness
does not meet
the red

I hold down the ropes
and chains that keep you trapped
in the empty chambers -
arteries to keep me alive

But the tiniest movement
or sound you make
reverberates
until all I can focus on
is you

My grip weakens
red bleeds into black
and you fill the hollows of my heart.

*********************


Take any everyday activity (washing dishes, making the bed, changing the car oil, cooking a meal, skate boarding, surfing) and describe the activity using concrete, sensuous language. The poet walks a fine line here: s/he doesn’t want to mock the activity, just present it in a sexier light.


Starting the Car

It's a bitter cold morning,
frost on the windshield
and a hazy white layer
lays over the dark blue paint
hiding its metallic glitter
from the sun, reluctant
to meet the sky, still peppered
with fading stars.
I press the button on the key,
the locks respond
with a soft "click" to let me in,
and the warm glow of the dome light
bathes the interior of the chilly cabin.
Each ridge and valley of the key
finding purchase in the hollows,
I turn my wrist to begin
the ritual of raising the dead.
Deep, rumbling groans emerge
from under the frozen hood,
the dashboard flickering,
fading in and out.
I turn again, I turn harder,
pumping the gas and flicking my wrist
I continue the careful rhythm.
Lights staying on longer,
engine whirring higher
With a final rush, life returns.
Its heart roughly beating
coated with thick, rich oils
coaxing it to run,
Lights sparkle - beacons of life
from the darkness of the dashboard.
With my foot on the gas, I think,
Thank god starting you
Is easier than starting the car.

Poetry Journal #11 - Pale September

Pale september, I wore the time like a dress that year
The autumn days swung soft around me, like cotton on my skin
But as the embers of the summer lost their breath and disappeared
My heart went cold and only hollow rhythms resounded from within
But then he rose, brilliant as the moon in full
And sank in the burrows of my keep

And all my armor falling down, in a pile at my feet
And my winter giving way to warm, as I'm singing him to sleep

He goes along just as a water lily
Gentle on the surface of his thoughts his body floats
Unweighted down by passion or intensity
Yet unaware of the depth upon which he coasts
And he finds a home in me
For what misfortune sows, he knows my touch will reap

And all my armor failing down, in a pile at my feet
And my winter giving way to warm, as Im singing him to sleep
All my armor falling down, in a pile at my feet
And my winter giving way to warm, as Im singing him to sleep

-Fiona Apple

In this poem, or song, I think that the speaker is describing her relationship with a man, though is not speaking to him or to herself. I believe it to be somewhat of a musing, and the audience for the song is simply any objective third person.

It seems that the speaker has experienced a shift in perspective, in her life, as evidenced by the change in seasons and temperatures of which she speaks. She moves from autumn and winter to summer, and from winter and cold to warmth. In this poem, I think she is using autumn and winter to describe an emotional distance. She states that she wore "[Pale September] like a dress that year" which would imply that she in wearing a sense of dying or solitude, as autumn is symbolic of a time of lonliness, moving into the winter. This is further supported by the "embers of [her] summer" disappearing, and her heart going cold. She is implying an initial move from warmth and love to one of coldness, until the next lines where he "rises as the moon in full," which moves us into the chorus. In this respect I think the song shifts gears several times. It starts off speaking of autumn, then backtracks a bit to talk about the move from Summer to autumn, then proceeds to winter, and then finally, as she enters the chorus, we are moving back into warmth. I think that this is symbolic of Spring, a time of rebirth.

In the chorus, she sings "All my armor falling down" which to me is symolic of the "autumn dress." She is letting go of that lonliness and solitude which she wore to protect herself.

Poetry Journal #10 - Set the Fire to The Third Bar

I find the map and draw a straight line
Over rivers, farms, and state lines
The distance from A to where you'd 'B'
It's only finger-lengths that I see
I touch the place where I'd find your face
My fingers in creases of distant dark places

I hang my coat up in the first bar
There is no peace that I've felt so far
The laughter penetrates my silence
As drunken men find flaws in science

Their words mostly noises
Ghosts with just voices
Your words in my memory
Are like music to me

I'm miles from where you are,
I lay down on the cold ground
I pray that something picks me up
And sets me down in your warm arms

After I have travelled so far
We'd set the fire to the third bar
We'd share each other like an island
Until exhausted, close our eyelids
And dreaming pick up from
The last place we left off
Your soft skin is weeping
A joy you can't keep it

I'm miles from where you are,
I lay down on the cold ground
And I pray that something picks me up
and sets me down in your warm arms

I'm miles from where you are,
I lay down on the cold ground
I pray that something picks me up
and sets me down in your warm arms

-Snow Patrol

The song seems to be about the cold and lonely feeling of being a long way apart from someone you love and "we'd set the fire to the third bar" about the increased warmth you would feel if you were with them.

I love the clever use of double-meaning words and sounds in this song. For example "the distance from A to where you'd B" should be "be" but is referencing point A to point B, and she sound of the vowel "A" is not so different from how one would say "I" so it vocally sets the impression that there is distance between two people.

I also really enjoy how the "words" of men are "just noises" and yet, her words in his memory are "like music." It really paints a haunting picture. While I do not believe that the lover's object is dead, there is somewhat of a tone of death in the song's chorus. The speaker wants to lay down on "the cold ground" which is somewhat reminiscent of a grave. He also prays that "something picks me up, and lays me down in your warm arms." It almost seems as though he is soliciting a benevolent spirit to intervene and bring him into the afterlife where his love lives.

I've always been confused by the line "Set Fire to The Third Bar" which is also the title of the song. After much research, I'm assuming that it refers to old-fashioned style electric heaters which had a series of heat-emitting bars- the 1st bar would give you gentle heat, the second slightly higher, the third even warmer and so on. So if his love is still alive, it seems that he is asking for intense heat, intense love and passion between the two of them.

11/6/08 CAI Lab Assignment - Blackbird

i

In a drawer
solitary, and solid black
is a meaningless ring

ii

In a drawer
solitary, and solid black
is a meaningful ring

iii

Ring fingers on the left
also on the right
but only one that matters

iv

Rings on trees
to count their age
but our rings speak nothing,
nothing of time passed

v

Round and round
never-ending, a ring
is meant to last
forever

vi

The ring finger
is placed closest to the heart
mean to symbolize love,
a connection

vii

I can roll a wheel, a ball
and yet a ring does not move

viii

Thousands and thousands
of dollars on rings to be
evidence of one's love
for another

ix

I cannot place it on my right hand
because there, a ring means nothing
and does not fit

x

Each ring is stamped
with a grade to rate the quality of metal

xi

Should a ring of love
ever be graded?

xii

In champagne
in a cake
a ring is almost always
the sweeter treat

xiii

You can impart everything
into a ring
or you can impart nothing.
But only you can impart meaning

Poetry Journal #9 - Still I Rise

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.

-Maya Angelou

I really like this poem. It's clear that this poem is defiant, and delivered with supreme confidence. The speaker of the poem is clearly one who has been trod upon by life and other people in it, and is still standing or "rising" up to them.

The speaker is clearly a woman, and in addition to speaking of her strength, she speaks of her sexuality with lines like "diamonds at the meeting of my thighs." She has clearly been looked down upon not only for other attributes, but also for her gender as a woman. So her defiance in this subject is pride on being a woman.

I find the rhythm of this poem interesting. It starts off with four-line stanzas that provide the poem with a very even rhythm, and rhyming abcb pattern. However, at the end it switches to almost free-verse with internal and external rhymes, and a very different pattern interrupted by the lines "I rise." I appreciate this poem greatly, but I almost feel that the last segment could be broken out and made its own poem and both would stand very strongly independently.

10/30 CAI Lab - Thomas and 2Pac

1. What is the essential overall meaning of Dylan Thomas’ Poem?
Thomas' poem seems, to me, to be speaking overall of death and giving up. His message, though we know death to be unavoidable, is to never give up, and to fight until the end.

2. To illuminate the meaning, paraphrase what the line, “Do not go gentle in to that good night,” is really saying.
I believe "Do not go gentle in to that good night" could be rephrased as "Go down fighting."

3. To illuminate the meaning, paraphrase what the line, “Rage, rage, against the dying of the light” is really saying.
As darkness approches, fight it.

4. What are the unspoken beliefs about life that you think the poem’s speaker holds?
The poem's speaker seems to be of the opinions that life is worth fighting for, even at the end, despite the fact that death is unavoidable.

5. How does the tool of repetition emphasize meaning in Thomas’ poem? Because I believe Thomas's message to be one of fighting, the repetition to me seems almost like a battlecry.



1. What is the essential, overall meaning in Tupac’s lyrics?
In this song Tupac seems to be to stay grounded throughout life. He seems to perceive the world as a fairly agressive and combative place, and so focusing on things like education and being honest seem to be important in the message of this song.

2. Explain the forces that create a “Me against the world” situation in this poem?
Poverty and Wealth, The bravery to ask questions without fear of being perceived as ignorant or stupid, and the opression of the government versus individual rights.

3. How does Tupac suggest we overcome oppression?
Study, don't settle for less, ask questions, be grateful, keep your essence, do your best, don't panic under pressure.

4. If the poet’s circumstances are so dire and life has so much injustice, explain why the poet would tell the reader “Be grateful for your blessings” (8)?
If the poet's world, or the world in general, is so full of injustice, one has to be grateful for what one has in order to see the world as a decent place to exist.

5. Explain the meaning of why the poet insists the listener should not “ever change/keep your essence” (9).
He states to "be true" to who you are. I think that he is stating that as we grow, develop, and enter the world, one tends to lose sight of who they originally were, or what they originally wanted. Especially in a world potentially full of gangs and violence, one has a lot of high-pressure influences trying to mold you a certain way.



1. Print out the lyrics of a favorite song where you think the music is more important than the words. In a full paragraph, explain why you think the music is the focus.

I took my love, I took it down
Climbed a mountain and I turned around
I saw my reflection in the snow covered hills
till the landslide brought me down

Oh, mirror in the sky
What is love
Can the child within my heart rise above
Can I sail thru the changing ocean tides
Can I handle the seasons of my life

Well, Ive been afraid of changing
cause Ive built my life around you
But time makes you bolder
Children get older
Im getting older too

Oh, take my love, take it down
Climb a mountain and turn around
If you see my reflection in the snow covered hills
Well the landslide will bring it down

If you see my reflection in the snow covered hills
Well maybe the landslide will bring it down

I believe that the music in Landslide, by Stevie Nicks, is actually more important than the lyrics. While the lyrics are very poetic, they are so vague in nature that it's almost impossible to determine of what she is speaking. Furthermore, this song has been covered by so many artists, and the style of music rarely varies, despite such a variety of artists as Smashing Pumpkins, Tori Amos, and the Dixie Chicks all covering it. I think that, because the music stays so static, it has more depth in the song than the lyrics.

2. Print out the lyrics (words) of a favorite song where you think the lyrics are more important than the music. In a full paragraph, explain why you think the lyrics are the focus.

One breath away from mother Oceanía
Your nimble feet make prints in my sands
You have done good for yourselves
Since you left my wet embrace
And crawled ashore
Every boy, is a snake is a lily
Every pearl is a lynx, is a girl
Sweet like harmony made into flesh
You dance by my side
Children sublime
You show me continents
I see the islands
You count the centuries
I blink my eyes
Hawks and sparrows race in my waters
Stingrays are floating
Across the sky
Little ones, my sons and my daughters
Your sweat is salty
I am why
I am why
I am why
Your sweat is salty
I am why
I am why
I am why

These are the lyrics from a song called Oceania by Bjork. I believe that in this song, the lyrics are the focus over the music because it is from her album Medulla. In that album, Bjork's use of music in her songs was amazingly sparse. There are long spaces where you hear nothing other than her speaking or singing the words, and there is actually no instrumentation in the album. All of the instruments are actually vocalizations which are meant to mimic drumbeats, string and wind instruments.

Poetry Journal #8 - Ask Me No More

Ask me no more: the moon may draw the sea;
The cloud may stoop from heaven and take the shape,
With fold to fold, of mountain or of cape;
But O too fond, when have I answer'd thee?
Ask me no more.

Ask me no more: what answer should I give?
I love not hollow cheek or faded eye:
Yet, O my friend, I will not have thee die!
Ask me no more, lest I should bid thee live;
Ask me no more.

Ask me no more: thy fate and mine are seal'd:
I strove against the stream and all in vain:
Let the great river take me to the main:
No more, dear love, for at a touch I yield;
Ask me no more.

-Alfred Lord Tennyson

I believe the speaker in this poem is speaking to a lover. The poem has an overall feeling of pleading, with the repeated line "Ask me no more," which is indeed the title of the poem. It seems to me that in the first stanza, the poet is stating that "things may occur" and yet he does not want to provide an answer to the question he is being asked.

In the second stanza he states that he does not love illness or death, but also states that he does not want to command the person to live.

The third stanza to me seems like it could be interpreted in two ways. He describes struggling against an insurmountable force, and it seems to me to either be love or death. If it is death, then "take me to the main" sounds to me like the afterlife. However, the line "for at a touch, I yield" makes me think that he is speaking of love.

Overall, I interpret the meaning of the poem to be one where his lover has asked him a somewhat baited question, along the lines of "will you love me forever?" And so love and eternity and death are all tied in with that question. It seems he does not want to offer that kind of commitment to the person who asked the question.

Poetry Journal #7 - Space Between Our Fingers

When mother found my brother under the porch
that day, she said five words we'll
never forget: "I love you this much."
Smiling, she held her hand out,
space between her fingers
not more than two inches.
From the age my brother could walk,
we have wrestled. Bear cubs
on our Persian rug. I remember always
holding back, five years older
was way too strong. But now, he is bigger,
and when we fight, I cannot bruise him,
only print my nails on his arms,
scattered animal tracks left in snow.
And when I come home, tempered by
small experience, spitting at those who
cross my path, my brother stands at our
kitchen counter announcing, I love my
sister this much, space between his fingers
not more than two inches.

-Jessie Carson

This poem feels very grounded in the body to me. The poet seems to reinforce this with all the parts of the body that are described and the bodily actions: hand, fingers, wrestled, strong, bruise, nails, arms.

I have a hard time determining if this poem is intended to be depressive or uplifting. It caught my attention because my mother used to say the same thing to me as a child, but when she said "I love you this much" she would spread her arms as wide as they could go. So to read the same line in this poem and hear that there is only space between fingers seems somewhat sad to me, that the love is less or diminished.

I'm curious to know why the brother starts out the poem under the porch. This seems a place for hiding or protection, and so it makes me wonder what he needed to hide from. Perhaps it was from the poet, his sister? Had she beaten him at wrestling as a child, and he was upset or hurt? If so, then i believe the poem leaves us in a different and yet familiar place from where it started. The mother provided the comfort to the wounded child in the beginning, and at the end, the sister receives that protection or solace from her brother, whom she spent much of her childhood fighting with.

10/9 CAI Lab Assignment

Read “Luke Havergal” by Edwin Arlington Robinson, linked on your course page. Also Print out a copy of the poem.

Answer fully each of the following questions on a separate sheet.

1. List everything you know about Luke.
There is a fiery night in his eyes, a kiss flames on his forehead that blinds him to the way he must go, if he trusts her she will call.

2. Then list essential information you wish you knew but don’t.
I wish I knew who at what Western Gate he was to travel to, who is speaking to Luke, and who "she" is. Who has kissed his forehead, and why has it blinded him? Why does he have to trust this woman in order for her to call? And to whom is she calling? Luke?

3. How many characters are in the poem?
I interpret it to be three characters. Luke, the speaker/poet, and the "she"

4. What do you find out about each character?
Luke is clearly lacking direction or clarity on appropriate action, which we learn from the speaker/poet. This, however, might also simply be the bias of the speaker/poet, who feels that Luke must go to the Western Gate and trust that "she" will call. We also learn that the speaker/poet is dead, with the line "out of the grave." We know almost nothing about the "she" character, though I question whether the "she" might also be the speaker, and speaking in a third person, disembodied.

5. Point out the references to time & seasons.
I believe "crimson vines" is a reference to fall, as many varietals change color in the fall from green to red. However, it seems to be early fall, as the leaves move in the wind, but do not fall, though winds are "tearing them away." This poem occurs at night as "there is no dawn in eastern skies." Though, it may be early night, dusk almost as it says "western glooms are gathering." So it might be shortly after sunset, as the sky is darkening, and gloom seems to spread from the West horizon.

6. What is their significance?
Having the poem occur on what feels like a cold fall night gives the poem a very eery feeling. Additionally, as I am about to reference below, this poem refers to death, and Fall is the period of dying off before the full death of Winter. Sunset also walks this line, as it is not truly "alive" in the sense of daylight, yet not fully dark.

7. How do you interpret “the western gate”?
I just realized that I think that "the western gate" is death. The sun sets in the West, the "death" of the sun. The speaker/poet references coming out of the grave, and how if he goes in that direction, he will be "called."

8. Who is the poem’s speaker? What specific details does the poet reveal about the speaker?
I am back to the idea that the speaker is also the "she" disembodied. The way in which the speaker seems to have a sense of omniscience leads me to believe that it is not a live person, but someone who has more of a sense of the beyond.

9. What does the speaker ask Luke to do?
I believe the speaker ias asking Luke to die.

10. Would you advise Luke Havergal to follow the speaker’s advice? Why or why not?
I would actually, and what changed my mind was the line "I come to quench the kiss that flames upon your forehead" and how "the western glooms are gathering" seems to reference his eyes. I originally pictured Luke as a healthy, virile man, but I now question if he is in fact an ailing person, and this poem is a way of saying to give up, and go to the "she" who may be a long lost love.

11. Note the places where the poem rhymes, both internally & at the end of lines.
The poem follows an AABBCCAA rhyme scheme at the end of each line. The poem also has a very strong internal rhyme to it, but no syllables rhyme specifically, but it seems to me that the poet uses a lot of assonance and alliteration to create a strong rhythm.

12. What is the poem’s tone?
It originally struck me as eerie, but it seems to me to be a message of advice. Almost one of hope.

13. How do rhyme patterns contribute to the tone?
It creates a very musical poem. Again, as my opinion is that the speaker is dead or disembodied, it creates a somewhat magical or ethereal feeling.


Poem in Response:

No beauty in death -
kind words spoken in memory
become stone
placed on earth under shaded
cypress trees

Songs of loss
replaced by the tuneless caw
of terribly fat crows
bouncing along the roots
and nerves, raw

Scared of the middle place
between life and unknown
I hope there's someone
who will take care of me, for
when we die, we're truly gone

Poetry Journal #6 - Untitled

death is easy like taking a bath
with an electric fan and waving hello to god
you could die like walking in front of a bus
or jumping into the big blue air
or into the lake
or doing almost anything
you could die by living in minnesota
and forgetting your scarf
or remembering your scarf
and it catches on the axle and strangles you
god is love but
he doesn't necessarily drop
everything and go save you
does he



-Garrison Keillor


This poem sounds to me like the poet is simply musing, and is not speaking to a specific audience or recipient. Though he does use the phrase "you" it seems to be simply an objective noun rather than a "you" directed at a specific person.

This clearly is a humorous poem, and instantly evokes curiosity on where the poet is going with the opening line "death is easy like taking a bath." Firstly, none of us really feel that death is easy, as we spend our lives trying desperately to avoid it, so that portion of the sentence, in and of itself is attention-grabbing. Secondly, the part "like taking a bath" leads our curiosity to the second like "with an electric fan and waving hello to God."

Having no punctuation in this poem is interesting, because it forces the reader to insert pauses or breaks where they feel is appropriate. I feel that my favorite line is "God is love but" and I choose to insert a sizeable pause after "but" because this poem feels so much like a comedic musing, it seems very humorous to question the statement "God is love" as few of those who believe in God would believe anything different. So placing that pause seems to fit with the emotion behind the poem.

This poem reminds me of the joke of the man who's city was flooding and he sat on his roof waiting for "god to save him" as a boat, raft, and helicopter all stopped and offered assistance and he refused them all saying "god will save me." Then he drowns and asks God why he didn't save him, and God replies "I sent a raft, a boat, and a helicopter, what more do you want?"

Poetry Journal #5 - In the Desert

In the desert
I saw a creature, naked, bestial,
Who, squatting upon the ground,
Held his heart in his hands,
And ate of it.
I said, "Is it good, friend?"
"It is bitter – bitter", he answered,
"But I like it
Because it is bitter,
And because it is my heart."

-Stephen Crane


This poem seems to be a musing to me, with no intended audience or clear speaker. Additionally, there does not appear to be a clear entry point, you are just dropped "In the desert" and left with speech from the beast.

What I find really interesting about this poem is the excess of punctuation. It is a fairly short poem at only 10 lines, and yet when read alound it seems longer when given the appropriate pauses at all the commas, periods, and dashes. I feel like this is the poet's attempt at creating a disjointed, and somewhat broken world in the poem. He is living this odd experience of a beast eating its own heart, whether literal or metaphorical and in either sense it must be somewhat surreal.

9/25 - CAI Lab (The Bear)

I did not care much for The Bear. I thought it was an interesting poem, however it was very harsh and a little bit too - vulgar is not the appropriate word - but disgusting. I found it hard to get into the beauty of the poem hearing about the gruesome way in which the bear dies, and how the poet hunts him. It's a very primal poem, and I find it hard to align myself with in that regard.

1. Brief synopsis: The poet is hunting the bear, sharpens a bone and places it in blubber so that the bear eats it. The poet continues tracking the bear, eats the bear's blood-soaked feces to survive, and eventually comes upon the bear, dying from the internal injuries of the bone. He cuts open the bear, eating briefly, and then climbs inside the bear to sleep. He then goes through somewhat of a transition into becoming the bear, and experiencing the bear's perspective.

2. The speaker is the hunter

3. Using the first-person narrator makes the poem feel much more personal, it really lessens the distance of the poem for the reader.

4. The hunter discovers the bear, lays his trap, and tracks the bear until he discovers the bear's body

5. The poet experiences a transformation to where he becomes the bear, experiencing her death and awakens in the world, somewhat unsure whether he is the bear or the hunter.

6. The poet eats the bear's feces, ingesting somewhat of its essence. The poet then physically enters the bear's carcass, and then mentally follows.

7. I suppose in order for the poet to truly understand the bear, he has to experience it in all ways, which would include becoming it.

8. The last section of the poem seems to be somewhat of a rebirth of the bear, and so a return to its essence. The poet seems to question, then, what was the essence on which he lived?

9. Yes, I think it does support those final lines. The poem is very fanciful, and so the transition from death, to rebirth, death again, and then true rebirth seems to support it.

Poem in response:

There are few among us
who would share their homes
with a monster
yet I did.

Covered in red hair
she gazed imperiously about
until her eyes settled
on a very still, slightly waxy chicken.

She stomped on it.
The chicken uttered a desperate
SQUEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee……..
She looked down at it
seeming to delight in its slow death.

Then, moving nothing but her eyes
she met my stare
as if to say
This chicken—is mine.
This house—is mine.
And you—
you are mine.

Poetry Journal #4 - If You Forget Me

If You Forget Me

I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine

-Pablo Neruda

In this poem the poet is clearly speaking to his love, or potentially to his lost love. The energy behind this poem is very interesting, as he enters the poem in a very different place from where he exits. At the beginning, this poem feels very much like a warning, a caution to the recipient of the message, with lines like if "you decide to leave me at the shore" then "I shall lift my arms and my roots will set off to seek another land," implying not so obscurely that if the recipient does not return his affection, love, or attention, he will seek it elsewhere.

However, the poem exits in an almost breathtakingly tender and passionate manner. The lines "in me all that fire is repeated, in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten," are full of such wanton passion for the recipient that it is clear that the beginning warnings in the poem are from a place of desperation that they not come to pass.

The final line "and as long as you live it [my love] will be in your arms without leaving mine" is one that I am really impressed by. Love poetry is so difficult to write without sounding cliche, and I feel like the implication of "forever" at the close of this poem just manages to avoid this, so the poem really works in this way. Neruda does an outstanding job of writing a beautiful love poem that captures not only the passion and desire of the love, but also the desperation and fear of losing it.

9/18 In-Class Writing Excercise - Cherrylog Road

Paraphrase:
The poet arrives and sits in a car overgrown with plants in a junkyard. He continues to enter and exit different cars in the yard in various states of disrepair. The poet feels different in each car, noting the varition in heat and color. He changes in anticipation of the arrival of his girlfriend, tying the change in himself to each automobile he enters. His girlfriedn too would experience a change in herself, escaping from her life and identity in the adventures she shares with the poet in the junkyard.

Poem in Response:

Heavy bag on my back
I parked on Scenic,
noting no appropriate view,
a steep road and row of houses,
freeway below and golf course behind.

Enjoying the novelty of arrival
I stride upward, vaguely knowing
where to go, who to find
Up the road lined with asphalt
roses, and cars as nice as mine.

I knocked on the door
identical to the three I passed
before it, brown, unspecial outside,
and clearly built years before I built today.

Soft lighting from lamps
made to look like candles, I think,
I must be more beautiful in here,
and drop my burden in the bedroom

Unsure of where to sit or stand
I opened wine, pouring
two overly large glasses
Buttery Chardonnay in mismatched bowls

The couch is very long and narrow
no arms, so I sit upright
swirling the stemware,
nervousness and excitement rolling inside.

Poetry Journal #3 - Death Be Not Proud

Death, be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;
For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be,
Much pleasure; then from thee much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones, and soul's delivery.
Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell;
And poppy or charms can make us sleep as well
And better than thy stroke; why swell'st thou then?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.

-John Donne

This is one of my favorite poems of all time. I love that the speaker, who is clearly the poet, is speaking directly TO Death, personified. I have read a lot of poetry where the subject being discussed is death, or to where we are feeling the after-effects of death, but this is one of the very few that directs the message directly AT Death, and personifies him. I think there is a certain amount of glee in this poem at the idea of this great force being truly unimportant and, in a sense, beaten, which causes a feeling of elation.

I like how Donne enters and exits the poem in similar ways, with a four-word statement, almost a command, to Death: "Death be not proud" and "Death, thou shalt die." This poem is almost about the exertion of dominance over death, and so to enter and exit the poem with such brief statements, structured at commands really ties in well with the body and message of the poem.

I find the rhyme scheme interesting, as it is abba, cddc, effe and then ends in an unrhymed couplet. To me, this draws particular attention to the final statement, "Death, thou shalt die" as we expect it to rhyme, and it does not.

Elegy Assignment

Responding to "The Leap" by James Dickey.

In this poem I feel that the author is speaking, and as there is no mention of "you" in the poem, it seems to me that this must be a recollection or personal reflection and is directed inward. His tone seems to be one of disbelief and sadness. I find it interesting that he references the thin, brittle chain of paper multiple times, and also uses "the paper" as the way in which he finds out about her death. Its unclear in the poem whether Jane has truly died or not, and so to me it would seem that by using "the paper" as the medium by which he hears of her death makes it potentially only a daydream or whimsy.

I also feel that the journey that the poem takes potentially undermines the possible reality of her death. He starts of remembering her, but not in the ways in which she was commonly known. He did not recollect her as running with the other girls, he remembered her in this one odd instance of a formal dance. As he reaches the latter part of the poem where he "remembers" hearing of her death, he states that it is odd. Starting and ending the poem in dissociative recollections of her seems to me to call into question whether there is any truth to the poem.

I am confused by the final turn in the poem, the last stanza, and specifically the line "Hold on to that ring I made for you, Jane - My feet are nailed to the ground By dust I swallowed thirty years ago - While I examine my hands." If you eliminate the part between the two dashes, the line becomes "Hold on To that ring I made for you, Jane - While I examine my hands." This seems to make no sense to me, and leaves the exit of the poem somewhat unresolved and unclear to me.

Upon rereading the poem, I did notice that he foreshadowed her death in the second stanza, describing her jump as a "Grave Leap."


Poem in response:

I finished my milk
Placed the glass carefully on the wood
Tall enough, even at that age
To reach the top of the piano.

It was warm that day, midsummer.
Beads of condensation rolled
Slowly, strolling toward
The beautiful honey finish

Long out of tune from hours
Spent hammering tuneless
Tunes, carefully crafted
By my fat, five-year-old fingers
I had no respect -
So turned away.

Your angry shout echoed
In the Steinway's strings,
Slightly humming from fury
at the damage I had caused.

It was the only time
You ever spoke to me in anger,
Called me by my given name
Each syllable a hammer
Hitting heavy on the bass.

The only time your words
Impacted part of me, and
Still I always wonder
If I meant as much to you
As a water ring
On honey maple

Poetry Journal #2 - Fotografia

Cada vez que yo me voy llevo a un lado de mi piel
Tus fotografias para verlas cada vez

Que tu auesencia me devora entero el Corazon
Y yo no tengo remedio mas que amarte

Y en la distancia te puedo ver
Cuando tus fotos me siento a ver
Y en las estrellas tus ojos ver
Cuando tus fotos me siento a ver

Cada vez que te busco te vas
Y cada vez que te llamo no estas
Es por eso que debo decir que tu solo en mis fotos estas

Cuando hay un abismo desnudo
Que se opone entre los dos

Yo me valgo del recuerdo taciturno de tu voz
Y de nuevo siento enfermo este corazon
Que no le queda remedio mas que amarte

-Juanes


English Translation:

Every time that I leave I take next to my skin
Your photos to look at every time

Your absence devours my heart entirely
And I have no remedy but to love you

And in the distance I can see you
When I sit to look at your photos
And in the stars I see your eyes
When your photos I feel the need to see

Each time I look for you, you leave
And each time that I call you are not there
That is why I must say that you are only in my photos

When there is a naked abyss
That stands between us
I try to remember the sound of your voice
And again I feel heartsick
And I have no remedy but to love you



In this song, the speaker is clearly longing for someone who they love or loved at some point, and the words are clearly directed at the object of their affection. This song is not stuck in a particular time, it is speaking of specific moments when he seems to be experiencing a lonliness at the absence of this other person, and has pieced them together to form this work.

There doesn't seem to be much progress from the beginning to the end, as the second stanza ends with "and I have no remedy but to love you" which is also the exiting line of the poem. This again leads me to believe that it is not about actions or an experience, but purely about the feelings experienced when the other person is not present.

There is a stanza that surprises me, which begins with "cada vez que te busco te vas" or "Each time I look for you, you leave" which surprises me in that I gathered the person to be already gone, and the writer to be speaking of the absence. However, this stanza leads me to believe that he is chasing her affection, and never seems to be able to obtain it, or keep it for long. And strangely enough, his remedy is to continue loving her.

Another note that I found interesting when translating this poem is the need for punctuation in the English language versus spanish. Specifically in "cada vez que te busco te vas" versus the translation "Each time I look for you, you leave." Punctuation is extremely important in a poem, and in the Spanish there is no comma, but it is required in the English to form a proper statement, which changes the pace and rhythm of the poem.

Poetry Journal #1 - To Earthward

Love at the lips was touch
As sweet as I could bear;
And once that seemed too much;
I lived on air

That crossed me from sweet things,
The flow of ** was it musk
From hidden grapevine springs
Downhill at dusk?

I had the swirl and ache
From sprays of honeysuckle
That when they're gathered shake
Dew on the knuckle

I craved strong sweets, but those
Seemed strong when I was young;
The petal of the rose
It was that stung.

Now no joy but lacks salt.
That is not dashed with pain
And weariness and fault;
I crave the stain

Of tears, the aftermark
Of almost too much love,
The sweet of bitter bark
And burning clove.

When stiff and sore and scarred
I take away my hand
From leaning on it hard
In grass and sand.

The hurt is not enough;
I long for weight and strength
To feel the earth as rough
To all my length.

-Robert Frost


The first time that I read this poem, I thought it was a love poem, seeing imagery of musk, roses, honeysuckles... but upon multiple readings I think it is a poem of bitterness toward love. The writer seems to have somewhat of a love/hate relationship with love, stating that "love at the lips was touch as sweet as I could bear," that it was almost too much to handle, which ties in with the stanza "I craved strong sweets, but those seemed strong when I was young; the petal of the rose it was that stung." Most times we hear of the roses's thorns as an imagery for the hurt that comes along with a thing of beauty, objectification, or love. However in To Earthward the part that stings is actually the petal, the most beautiful, tender, and delicate part of the rose.

I think that the writer, in this case, is not speaking to an audience. The way in which it is written reminds me almost of a musing, an internal dialogue that the author has with himself. The line which has the break "The flow of ** was it musk" leads me to believe that this is the case.

What struck me in this poem were the last two stanzas. The writer seems to have been caused great pain by love, and yet says "The hurt is not enough" which is a difficult line to discern. I find it ties back to the line "I lived on air" as he now seems very grounded in the earth, the dirt, the sand. He states "I long for weight and strength, to feel the earth as rough to all my lenth." This is a VERY different place to end the poem from where it began in lightness and air. Again, if the air was the lightness of love, the earth seems to be the reality, the pain. And so I was really struck by "The hurt is not enough" as though he wants more of it, despite the pain, with his desire to "feel the earth as rough to all my lenth."

I think this poem is very mysterious because as the reader we are never sure if he loves or hates love, wants it or despises it. Though, my opinion is that all are true. He both loves and hates it, wants it and despises it, and so is in complete conflict with himself. This leads us, as the audience, to wonder ourselves.