Community Response (journal 4)

“Community”-------------John Donne
Literary Critic

S: a man speaking to men in the world
O: good and bad
A: men
P: to comment on the imperfection of women and men
S: women and men
TONE: appreciative, realizing

Response: The poem was definitely effective in conveying the view that men need to appreciate women as they are with all of their imperfections. Men need to realize that women are not perfect nor are men. Donne uses the phrase “there are things indifferent which wee may neither hate, nor love” to convey to the reader that things can also be both good and bad or neither because the mixture of good and bad evens out. By this the poet is referring to women and how women are neither good nor bad. The author uses a, a, b, c, c, b and so forth and so on to reveal a specific rhythm. The rhythm demonstrates the strict and lecturing voice in which the poem is written. It has a specific tone and rhythm. The poet also keeps referring to “good” and “bad” to emphasize the importance of realizing the difference between the two as well as the similarities. Good and bad all depends on the perspective in which they are seen. Donne was effective in conveying the similarities between good and bad when associated with women. In the end, the point that the poet is trying to make is that men should not judge women for their mistakes when women’s mistakes are sometimes influenced by the men associated with women.

Community Response (journal 4)

“Community”-------------John Donne
Literary Critic

S: a man speaking to men in the world
O: good and bad
A: men
P: to comment on the imperfection of women and men
S: women and men
TONE: appreciative, realizing

Response: The poem was definitely effective in conveying the view that men need to appreciate women as they are with all of their imperfections. Men need to realize that women are not perfect nor are men. Donne uses the phrase “there are things indifferent which wee may neither hate, nor love” to convey to the reader that things can also be both good and bad or neither because the mixture of good and bad evens out. By this the poet is referring to women and how women are neither good nor bad. The author uses a, a, b, c, c, b and so forth and so on to reveal a specific rhythm. The rhythm demonstrates the strict and lecturing voice in which the poem is written. It has a specific tone and rhythm. The poet also keeps referring to “good” and “bad” to emphasize the importance of realizing the difference between the two as well as the similarities. Good and bad all depends on the perspective in which they are seen. Donne was effective in conveying the similarities between good and bad when associated with women. In the end, the point that the poet is trying to make is that men should not judge women for their mistakes when women’s mistakes are sometimes influenced by the men associated with women.

more and more slips away journal reponse2

Maira Navarro
AP English
Journal 2 (a)
“Forgetfulness”-------------Billy Collins
Contemporary Poet

S: narrator
O: recollection of all the things that can be forgotten as the human mind gets older
A: All people because all people will someday be of old age
P: to make people see the importance of memory
S: the human mind
TONE: reminiscing, simplistic, observing, a nit humorous

Billy Collins’ poem “Forgetfulness” is about the human mind and how as one gets older one beings to lose his or her memory. The poem is in a sense poking fun at the loss of memory because of its tone. I on the other hand sometimes thank God for my loss of memory. Here is why:

The first to go is your name,
Followed by the memory of that day in the rain,
The pain you put me through,
The days I cried for you,

As if I had never met you and as if those days had never come and never gone,
I ask myself at times when you pass me by in the street if all that occurred between us
Was just, that
A memory gone away
Did it really happen or is it just something that my silly head conjured up

More and more slips away,
That Valentines Day where my heart was torn
That birthday where you never called
That night that at one time seemed important

More and more slips away,
No wonder sometimes when you pass me by
I forget to remember your name
Did I ever even know it in the first place?
Maybe not
Sometimes I thank the lord above for giving me the loss of memory
Each day more and more slips away

poem response journal 2

Maira Navarro
AP English
Journal 2 (b)
“My People Are the Color of the Earth”-------------Alma Luz Villanueva
Literary CRITIC

S: A little girl (Latina)
O: She is visiting her auntie
A: All people
P: to let people know about the life of those who are “mixed”
S: a half Indian/Spanish (MEXICAN) woman from Sonora and her customs
TONE: simplistic and telling

Response: Villanueva was truly successful in getting her point across through her poem. It is about her culture. Her auntie is both Indian and Spanish born in the Mexican state of Sonora. The speaker reflects on her childhood and the life of her auntie. Her child hood was spent listening to her auntie’s stories. The poem does not use rhyme. In the end the poem uses a reference to the “Anglo” to add a greater emphasis on the pride that she and her auntie have in their culture. “Mi gente son el color de la tierra” is used to also add more emphasis to the auntie and the speakers’ pride in their culture. The use of the Spanish language in a poem that is almost all entirely in English is clearly very important as it is used as a way of allowing Luz’s pride in her culture to also be revealed.

Ode to My Socks Personal Response

Ode to My Socks
Pablo Neruda
Personal Response
S: Neruda
O: he received a pair of socks
A: those who believe that material things are important
P: to make people understand that material things are not important
S: socks
TONE: Revealing
Response:
When I first read the poem I did not get what Neruda’s message was meant to be. I had to read the poem over and over again and yet I do not believe that my interpretation is similar to Neruda’s. I thought of my own life and how much I have focused on the material things that I have worked for. I use to dwell on my selfish belief that the most important things were to be the popular girl, who everyone likes to be around, who knows all the latest trends in clothing and in make-up but then I realized that I am not that type of person. Growing up, I was never able to have many of the things that a lot of my friends were. The things that I have accomplished in my life and the things that I own have not been handed to me. I have had to work for all that I have.
The day that I die, I will not be able to take all that I “own” with me, so I have become the type of person who is less worried about having all the latest trends. I have become someone somewhat different from that. I know that many of my friends don’t understand why I work as many hours as I do and why I do as much as I do outside of school but the most important thing to me is my family and I could have all the money in the world but that would not make me happy. I could have every material thing I always wanted and could never have and that would not make me happy. Being able to help my family economically is the best satisfaction that working brings. It is not the money that I am after or the material things but the satisfaction of being able to help. Material things aren’t important.

Poetic Language Reflection

Gosh! It is so hard to describe poetic language. Poetic language, I suppose, is language used to express emotion or a specific view. Poetic language is language used to create poetry. Poetic language is also accompanied by rhythm. Poetry is made up of poetic language that has rhythm and flows. They are different in the sense that one makes up the other. Poetic language is not always used to make up poetry. It can sometimes be used to express things with more meaning in speech.

~kitty

In a Moment of Craziness

In a Moment of Craziness
AAAAAAAH
Damn people need to stay out of my business
I'm so tired of all the deaths, the pain, and the violence
When is it going to end?
I NEED to get out of here
WE need to get out of here
I feel like I'm yelling so hard but nobody seems to be listening
Damn Maira, you need to stop allowing them to get to you
HE needs to get away...No, THEY need to get away
Please just get away...
I don't want to drag you into this
Sometimes I just want to throw myself into the sea and have someone save me
Please save me
I feel like I'm drowning
STOP
Stop choking me
aren't you supposed to be the one saving me?
get me away from here
get me away from them
get me away from you
DAMN...just get me away from myself
just leave me alone
All of you leave me alone
I don't need you to try to save me if in the end you're going to kill me
I need to breathe
I need to live
I need to be FREE!!!
Just STOP!

~kitty

Pablo Neruda

As some of you may already know, my favorite poet is Pablo Neruda. Ever since the first poem I read of his I fell in love. His poetry is in spanish and even though I believe that it is good for his poetry to be translated in order for non-spanish speakers to understand it, I believe that the true meaning of his poetry is not kept when translated into English.
~kitty

Poema XX (Saddest Poem) by Pablo Neruda

POEMA XX

Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche.

Escribir, por ejemplo: «La noche está estrellada,
y tiritan, azules, los astros, a lo lejos».

El viento de la noche gira en el cielo y canta.

Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche.
Yo la quise, y a veces ella también me quiso.

En las noches como ésta la tuve entre mis brazos.
La besé tantas veces bajo el cielo infinito.

Ella me quiso, a veces yo también la quería.
Cómo no haber amado sus grandes ojos fijos.

Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche.
Pensar que no la tengo. Sentir que la he perdido.

Oír la noche inmensa, más inmensa sin ella.
Y el verso cae al alma como al pasto el rocío.

Qué importa que mi amor no pudiera guardarla.
La noche está estrellada y ella no está conmigo.

Eso es todo. A lo lejos alguien canta. A lo lejos.
Mi alma no se contenta con haberla perdido.

Como para acercarla mi mirada la busca.
Mi corazón la busca, y ella no está conmigo.

La misma noche que hace blanquear los mismos árboles.
Nosotros, los de entonces, ya no somos los mismos.

Ya no la quiero, es cierto, pero cuánto la quise.
Mi voz buscaba el viento para tocar su oído.

De otro. Será de otro. Como antes de mis besos.
Su voz, su cuerpo claro. Sus ojos infinitos.

Ya no la quiero, es cierto, pero tal vez la quiero.
Es tan corto el amor, y es tan largo el olvido.

Porque en noches como ésta la tuve entre mis brazos,
Mi alma no se contenta con haberla perdido.

Aunque éste sea el último dolor que ella me causa,
y éstos sean los últimos versos que yo le escribo.

Saddest Poem

I can write the saddest poem of all tonight. 
Write, for instance: "The night is full of stars,
and the stars, blue, shiver in the distance." 
The night wind whirls in the sky and sings. 
I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too. 
On nights like this, I held her in my arms.
I kissed her so many times under the infinite sky. 
She loved me, sometimes I loved her.
How could I not have loved her large, still eyes? 
I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
To think I don't have her. To feel that I've lost her. 
To hear the immense night, more immense without her.
And the poem falls to the soul as dew to grass. 
What does it matter that my love couldn't keep her.
The night is full of stars and she is not with me. 
That's all. Far away, someone sings. Far away.
My soul is lost without her. 
As if to bring her near, my eyes search for her.
My heart searches for her and she is not with me. 
The same night that whitens the same trees.
We, we who were, we are the same no longer. 
I no longer love her, true, but how much I loved her.
My voice searched the wind to touch her ear. 
Someone else's. She will be someone else's. As she once
belonged to my kisses.
Her voice, her light body. Her infinite eyes. 
I no longer love her, true, but perhaps I love her.
Love is so short and oblivion so long. 
Because on nights like this I held her in my arms,
my soul is lost without her. 
Although this may be the last pain she causes me,
and this may be the last poem I write for her.

letting you in

Through this blog I am going to allow you to see a little into my pensamientos...
Bienvenidos
~kitty