Turning Pro

"Turning Pro" by Ishmael Reed was a very cool poem! I love sports and after just having my last week of soccer this week I can somewhat relate to this baseball players feelings, with the thought of its all over for me. Like him I realized my love for the game isn't over until I say it's over. :)

When looking at the structure of the poem I noticed that there was a lot of enjambment throughout and it was pretty random, and maybe it goes along with his old, tired tone. Also, the author doesn't use hardly any punctuation, having only who periods throughout the 35 line poem. The periods are only at the the end of the two stanzas. I think the reason for that goes along with the tired, old tone.

When reading this poem it didn't read like a poem, it read like a story or like a speech maybe, and I liked that it did that, it was interesting. If it was to be read as a speech it would be a pretty darn good one though. It starts out with the character playing baseball and realizing that he is the oldest one out there and he is old enough that the shortstop would practically be his son, and that isn't something many athletes really enjoy... After that first stanza it seems like that realization made him realize even more things like that people talk of him being slow, and he's being faked out left and right, etc. It isn't until this line that the tone changes, "But just as the scribes were beginning to write you off as a has-been on his last leg." After reading that line I found that he had a made a new realization and that was that he wasn't about to let all these people determine the rest of his career. He got a second wind and took it all the way home and showed he wasn't just that old guy in the amateur baseball league. By believing in himself and his fans showing their support he finally proved he wasn't just the old guy... he was deserving of the majors. At the end of the day, this poem was fun and I liked that the poet made it their own and did it their own way showing his love for the game. :)

Sindhi Woman

I thought since it was the last poetry blog I would end it on one of my favorite poems in the packet. :) The poem that I really enjoyed in the packet was "Sindhi Woman." It was a sad poem, yet it puts things in perspective and it makes readers grateful.

I liked this poem because it reminded me of The Kite Runner, which is one of my absolute favorite books. Now this Sindhi woman obviously wasn't rich like Amir was and had a large house, but how they were similar is by the things they two did to take care of their family. Amir took care of Hassan's son, and this Sindhi woman either had some sort of food or water in the jar she was carrying that the reader can assume is for her family. Also just the scene reminded me of the middle east and the struggle there that both the Sindhi woman and the Amir faced.

The poem is fairly simple, it is short and has a bit of an unusual rhyme scheme. Take the first stanza for example, the first line ends with "bazaar" and it rhymes with the forth line that ends with "jar". Then the second and third line rhyme and the fifth and sixth lines rhyme. The rhyme scheme continues into the next stanza as well, and it is a bit unusual but I like it and find it interesting the author made it their own.

I also liked how the author made they poem like a scene the reader could picture in their head. Stallworthy used such good detail giving the perfect picture in the readers mind. A perfect example of his attention to detail would be this: "Barefoot through the bazaar, and with the same undulant grace as the cloth blown back from her face, she glides with a stone jar high on her head and not a ripple in her tread." As I read that I pictured this strong, woman walking through a market in the Middle East, barefoot, and without a struggle carrying this huge jar with some sort of food or drink in it. This detail makes the reader appreciate what they have in life and appreciate hard work. In the second stanza the reader finds out of the extreme poverty this woman lives in. The last lines really bring it all together, "I , with my stoop, reflect they stand most straight who learn to walk beneath a weight." I think these lines show the author reflecting that hard work brings good health, and that these woman should be admired for how hard working they are and how committed they are to their family. At the end of the day, I thought that this poem had an interesting structure and was thoughtful, and I personally admire those strong Sindhi woman greatly for all they do for their family. :)

you fit into me

"you fit into me" by Margaret Atwood was a short poem, yet it had a lot of meaning within the few words it had. Just looking at the lack of punctuation it gives off the feeling of not caring or unhappiness. That lack of punctuation contributes to the overall meaning of the poem. There are only two stanzas and the first stanza goes like this: "you fit into me like a hook into an eye." Here the reader would assume that the author is referring to a hook and eye clasp on clothing like dress that clasps together. The hook and eye works together to keep the dress fastened and together. From that stanza the reader would assume the author is saying that its like how a relationship works just like a hook and eye; it is stable, they work together, etc. But then the second stanza goes into a complete different direction. "a fish hook an open eye," clearly this stanza doesn't have the same tone as the the first stanza. The tone shifts to being a bit angry and a bit painful. From those last lines it is clear that the relationship the author is describing wasn't a relationship that the two worked together, but rather one that only brought pain and unhappiness, and that was the only way the two fit together. It is straight forward and to the point. At the end of the day, maybe the reason the author chose so few words for this poem to show that the relationship was painful and is done and over with and that is it, according to the content and the structure of the poem.

What the mirror said

Continuing my liking for Lucille Clifton's poems, this week I chose her poem "What the mirror said." It was a short poem with an interesting structure. Looking at each line they are short and some lines only have one word. I think Clifton did that for a reason, that being that she had the most important or meaningful words by themselves. Clifton chose words like listen, women, girl, etc. as the words that stood alone. The word "listen" was repeated a few times throughout. That contributes to the overall meaning of the poem that Clifton was trying to bring forth, and that was that every woman is somebody, and is an important somebody, and to never let someone tell them otherwise. With the repetition of "listen" she is trying to grab the attention of the readers and say "Listen you are somebody, you are, you are!" This poem is obviously directed towards women, and it is no secret that for centuries women have not been treated the best, or seen as very important, and I think Clifton used this poem to reassure women that they are worthy, and nobody can tell a women otherwise. Clifton starts off the poem by describing a women as a wonder, and continues with relating a women to a map that needs directions because we are complicated. These lines I liked in particular, "listen, women, you not a no place anonymous girl." I liked this because it was telling every women that they will be somebody and that they are not a week little girl, but rather they are strong women. The last lines have a very distinct tone and addresses the anger that comes from abuse on women. "mister with his hands on you he got his hands on some damn body!" I think those lines are pretty powerful, for they bring a clear message that no matter how degrading a man is towards a woman and how ever many times they call a woman a nobody, that is never the case.... he has his hands on some damn body...and it's a women. At the end of the day, it was a short poem that has an interesting structure, but it has a clear message from Clifton.

at the cemetery, walnut grove plantation, south carolina, 1989

The poem I chose this week was “At the Cemetery, Walnut Grove Plantation, South Carolina, 1989” by Lucille Clifton. I have noticed that I have liked a lot of her poems throughout all of these packets, and I think it is because she takes things that people don’t recognize or necessarily want to talk about and she calls people out on them. I think if I met her she would be sassy and I think that would be awesome. :)

In this poem Clifton recognizes the fact that the slaves in South Carolina were never honored for all they did, or received justice for the things that happened to them. The second stanza really is the central idea of the poem, “nobody mentioned slaves and yet the curious tools shine with your fingerprints. nobody mentioned slaves but somebody did this work who had no guide, no stone, who moulders under rock.” That stanza shows that the slaves were such a huge part of the development of this world, only to be dishonored, forgotten, and unrecognized. As the poem continues, it is clear that Clifton’s goal is to give these slaves recognition for all they did, and give them the credit they deserve. “tell me your names, tell me your bashful names and i will testify.”Here, she just wants to show readers that they deserve to be recognized. Clifton’s last stanza was the best out of them all, she begins by saying that sometimes men were honored, but never women. “tell me your dishonored names. here lies here lies here lies here lies hear.” Those final lines were brought together by Clifton to recognize all they did, but also to tell readers to hear what she said because that was her goal all along, to get others to recognize these people and everything they did for our country and they should be honored for it. Overall, I really enjoyed this poem because it is something America is embarrassed about, but I think we need to be held accountable for it and honor them making sure it never happens ever again.

A Poison Tree

The poem A Poison Tree was an interesting way of looking at the idea of forgiving and forgetting and the consequences of holding to bad feelings and grudges. First, I want to look at the structure though. I noticed that the word at the end of each line rhymes with the last word of the line before it. Each word that rhymes is a word that contributes to the overall meaning of the poem and shows its importance. The first stanza brings forth another interesting idea, that idea being that it is harder to let go of bad feelings a person has towards a person they already dislike, compared to having bad feelings towards a friend. “I was angry with my friend: I told my wrath, my wrath did end. I was angry with my foe: I told it not, my wrath did grow.” It is easier to bring forth those bad feelings when it is a person's friend, but when it is not a friend, it is a lot harder to bring up those bad feelings and get over them. I believe that the tree is all the bad feelings and anger that a person has and the more it is built up, the more it helps the tree grow.“And I watered it in fears, night and morning with my tears; and I sunned it with smiles, and with soft, deceitful wiles.” So, as all these bad feelings towards this foe eats away at this person these bad feelings turn into fears and tears and create a bad person hung-up on hate. The hate is just going to grow until it bares something that will look like it will fix it all; something a foe would want because it came from that person. The last two lines really sum it all up, “In the morning glad I see my foe outstretched beneath the tree.” These last two lines represent the consequences of holding on to hate and bad feelings because in the end, they will just end up full of hate and no longer the person they once were. As a consequence, they let hate take them over and change who they really were, and they changed into someone who might be looked at as that foe that the person hated to begin with. So, in the end, it is better to forgive and forget rather than get caught-up in the bad feelings and become like the foe.

Goodbye To The Old Life...

Goodbye To The Old Life...

Goodbye to 13 teammates that I might as well have called my sisters.

To the team that was the closest out of them all.

To the girls that never let me fall.

To the team that had a perfect season.

To our silly inside jokes and crazy laughter.

To our crazy British accents and car noises.

To the sweat stained, stenched filled bags that we vowed we would never wash.

To the drive and determination during every game.

To the cold feeling of the green grass between our toes.

To the biggest smiles after every goal.

Goodbye to the team I will never get back again, but will always be remember as the girls who gave me the perfect season...

Goodbye to the best soccer team, that I am so proud to say I was on...