Tuesday, 21 January 2014

Poetry Project

 

Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare sieze the fire?
 
 
“The Tyger” by William Blake is a poem with religious connotations. I think of it as being a poem about God and the creation of Earth. Blake compares God to a blacksmith, “What the hammer?/ What the anvil?”(Lines 13/15).  The tiger represents evil; the evil which was created along with what is good and pure. The theme of the poems surrounds the question of how a benevolent God who created life and seeks for his creations to do good and be good could also create such a thing as evil. There are many wonderful things but there are also horrors and fear and bloodshed. God gave life to a creature as innocent as the lamb, could he also have created something which is its opposite, “[d]id he who made the Lamb make thee?”(line 20). What Blake is trying to convey is that, although evil is something that should not be looked up to or engaged in it is a creation of God. I enjoy this poem for a few reasons. It holds a theme which is very interesting to consider, something one could spend much time pondering. In addition, because it is an older poem– which is reason enough for it to be enjoyed- written in 1794, it has a rhythmic, almost musical quality when read aloud. Two poetic devices which stand out in the poem are end rhyme and metaphor. Throughout the entire poem we see or hear the end rhyme. Second is the metaphorical aspect. The tiger is a metaphor for evil. The metaphor is also part of the theme of the poem.
Blake, William. "The Tyger". The Poet's Craft. Ed. Robert J. Ireland. 89. Print.
 
 
I have been one acquainted with the night.
I have walked out in rain -- and back in rain.
I have outwalked the furthest city light.
I have looked down the saddest city lane.
I have passed by the watchman on his beat
And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain
 


             Robert Frost wrote, “Acquainted with the Night”, a poem about depression and loneliness. Specifically it is a poem describing the author’s or speaker’s own depression and feeling of isolation. It is not very broad about one’s state of mind or experiences when feeling depressed. Also, with the emphasis on the word ‘I’ it can clearly be interpreted as the specific feelings of either the speaker or perhaps the author himself. One of the saddest and most pristine representations of the speaker’s feeling of isolation is the hearing of a cry which made him or her stop, but the call out in the night was not for them, did not have anything to do with them, “ [a] cry/came from another street/ but not to call me or say goodbye”(lines 8-10). It is a beautiful but solemn poem with a cold and serious theme. Robert Frost is one of my favorite poets. I enjoy many of his poems, this one included. His poems are written smoothly and eloquently. “Acquainted with the Night” discusses a theme which is serious and heartbreaking. It is able to speak of loneliness, and depression, and the feeling of isolation clearly but without striking the reader in the face with it. Also, I enjoyed the poem for the way it was written in iambic pentameter: I love music and this form gives the poem a musical quality. Frost uses an ‘ABA’ ‘BCB’ rhyme scheme in the poem. The second line in a stanza will rhyme with the first and last line of the next stanza.  Moreover, repetition is used throughout the poem. To emphasize the personal connection with the theme of the poem the phrase “I have” is repeated. It is a rather beautiful poem with a sad theme making it very interesting to read.  


 Frost, Robert. "Acquainted with the Night". The Poet's Craft. Ed. Robert J. Ireland. 32. Print.
 
 

 
A wind by night in Northern lands
Arose, and loud it cried,
And drove the ship from elven-strands
Across the streaming tide.

When dawn came dim the land was lost,
The mountains sinking grey
Beyond the heaving waves that tossed
Their plumes of blinding spray.

Amroth beheld the fading shore
Now low beyond the swell,
And cursed the faithless ship that bore
Him far from Nimrodel.

 

 
 
                 This poem, "The Song of Nimrodel", is written as a lament for the fair Nimrodel. There is no indication, however, that she died. It is only known that she disappeared and was never seen again. It is also a poetic love story. Amroth and Nimrodel with enchanted by each other, deeply in love. Amroth is carried to sea aboard a ship and away from Nimrodel after she vanished. Even so, he could not bear to leave. He abandons ship and swims for shore, where upon he searches for her. No tell is heard of either of them. Primarily I believe the poem is about love. It is a beautiful piece of writing. It is a fantastical poem with a mysterious and mythical quality, something I really enjoy. It is sad and sweet as well but not in the more modern style. There is more to it than simply those feelings. "The Song of Nimrodel" is powerfully descriptive. A consistent 'ABAB' rhyme scheme is used in the poem. There are also some elements of sound play like alliteration such as, "dawn came dim"  or " fair she was and free".     
 
Tolkien, J.R.R. "The Song of Nimrodel" The Lord of the Rings, The Fellowship of the Ring. Toronto:1971-1977. 354-55. Print
  
 
 
 
The sky turns to a different shade of blue,
After the rain,
My mind turns to a different point of view,
After the rain,

 Like the ocean needs the moon to take the tides away,
All we need's a little time to chase the blues away,
The sun is out and it feels like it's always gonna stay,
Let this last forever and turn tomorrow,

Now all the clouds have nothin' left to do,
After the rain,
And all those doubts have drifted out of you,
After the rain,

 

  
 
              Sugar Ray’s song, "Into Yesterday", is purely about being happy. It is a song about looking forward, past the clouds, past the rain. There is nothing about rain or clouds being a negative symbol. When the clouds are out and it starts to rain, we need to look past it because everything seems so much greater after the rain is gone and the sun is shining. The song is about letting the 'blues' go. Everyone feels unhappy at times, every now and again we need the rain, and given enough time, we all can smile again and enjoy life, the sun will emerge again. I love this song because of its upbeat rhythm. The music and the lyrics are inducers of smiles and happiness. There is not really anything about the song that I don't like. It projects a great message and positive energy. There are quite a few poetic devices used in "Into Yesterday". End rhyme and repletion are the most prominent. The phrase "After the rain" is used several times which emphasizes its significance. One should always look forward to what comes after the rain. There is a third poetic device as well. I found some personification in the line, " the clouds have nothin' left to do". As far as I understand, clouds don't concern themselves with what they have to do or what they are doing. Also, the line " the ocean needs the moon to take the tides away" is an example of personification. Although the moon does cause the motion of the tide, the ocean does not require the moon to do so.
 
 
 
Fox, Steve. Frazier. Stanton, Charles. "Into Yesterday". Ultimateguitar.com /sugar_ray. n.d. Web.

 






 

 
 
 
 
 


Wednesday, 15 May 2013

Fahrenheit 451 English assignment Letter #1

Dear Mr. Montag,

Hello, I hope this finds you well. That's how a proper letter is always supposed to start. I am in a better place! Please, I ask you not to worry. Everything is wonderful. My family and I moved away as you know. I left for another world. Well, really I am still on Earth, but it feels like a new world. I am sorry that I didn't get a chance to say, "good bye" to you. The matter of departure was very urgent. Running away takes a surprising amount of planning. Everything happened so fast; it had to run precisely to be successful. You would enjoy it here. Everything is so fresh and green and natural: trees the size of mountains, butterflies so brightly colored and flowers to match. Come and live with me, enjoy freedom. Enjoy life! Be happy. We will live in this wonderland together. I could my send my family to you and they would gladly bring you here with them. I know you think you are happy as a fireman with your torches and your parlor "family" but here you will really be happy. Trust me. There are books, you want to read them. Uncle said that it is wrong for the government to take them away, secretly they are draining our minds not allowing us to think, not allowing people to learn or know anything. Books take you around the world on many adventures. You learn things that you may never have known otherwise. There is something about books, the real, cold, hard cover between your hands and the dry paper that scratches roughly when you turn each page. Not only do books hold knowledge and stories but, they also have feelings, emotions, individual voices begging you to read more and uncover thier secrets. They fill a void inside, like tea, steaming and smelling so inviting, when you drink it and you can feel its warmth as you swallow, it takes over your entire body. Books and tea go well together.  

At night the sky is so clear. Black silk is the sky. The stars sparkle like diamonds. I say they look like mother's earrings. Mother says they remind her of my eyes. Nothing else on Earth is like these stars, whether they look like jewels or my eyes really doesn't matter. They are so bright. And the moon! Oh, the moon is so much bigger and brighter too. When the clouds are gone and the black silk studded with diamonds is cleaned, the man in the moon smiles and watches over me. He's a guardian. I sleep under his watchful gaze feeling safe and very happy. You would feel that way too. I can do whatever I want here. Montag, do you remember when I told you how people would ignore me or were scared of me when I talked to them about the smells of flowers? People here are different. They talk back... Just like you. It is amazing how we talk here. Like my uncle, everyone knows so much. We talk about everything. Leaves here, when they are old and dry, smell like cinnamon too. We all agree to that. Now that I am here in this wonderful world I understand what living really is. Compared to... What is the city you live in? I never cared to learn the name. This place is home to me anyway. Home is so real. So warm and comfortable. You Montag, are living in a fake, dream world. No, only a fake world, this is the dream world. It is absolutely fantastic, better than a dream, although in my dreams I can fly. No matter. Please join us here. We camp out every night. Have you roasted marshmallows? They taste wonderful. I think that's how clouds would taste, fluffy and warm. Have you ever slept in a tent? It is a small, very small house made of only waterproof canvas. Wonderful! Do you know what a cabin is like? It is much like a house but built from trees. Charley, a man the same age as my father, said houses used to look like cabins in the old days. My first few days I stayed in a tent but when my family came we moved into a cabin. You could move in with us. There is enough room.
 People are so friendly too. No one threatens you and children don't kill each other or fight. We don't have cars; they didn't have them in the old days either. It makes sense doesn't it? Why would we be just here and have cars? Someone had to invent them. Instead of cars we have horses. Charley’s daughter Millie, she is also seventeen and crazy, taught me how to groom the horses and how to ride them! They don't go as fast as cars but I don't care. They are lovely. Horses are beautiful living creatures. Sometimes I like them more than people, but they don't talk and I need to talk with people. Horses are warm, they breathe on you with their velvety noses and your skin prickles and you have to smile and laugh. Riding them, making them run, is so much better than sitting in a car. When the wind blows, hits your face and ruffles your hair, your heart races with pure joy. It feels like flying. What if horses had wings and soared through the clouds? It would be magnificent to ride and fly with them, up where the birds are. The war jets don't fly here only singing birds. I haven't heard the jets since I left. Peace. Home is peaceful.
It is nearly midnight. I should be sleeping now but I had to write to you first. The thought came to me just as I was settling in to bed. Have you ever noticed how many thoughts flood into your mind like water breaking through a dam and flooding a valley? I have decided that it's because you are finally able to relax and let your mind wander, when a mind is free it can bring the most interesting ideas. That's what your world lacks. I really should go to sleep now. I hope you decide to come.
  
Good Night,
Sincerly, Clarisse

Thursday, 25 April 2013

Shakespear Assignment


Dear Diary:

                I have had the most exhilarating night. At this night's party I met a young man not much older than myself. He is tall. He is handsome and charming. His eyes twinkle like stars in a cloudless night sky. His voice, smooth and gentle, yet strong much like a late autumn breeze. I must have strayed into a dream. Such a good dream. 'Tis a beautiful, wonderful dream but, alas, 'tis also my worst nightmare for he, my dearest Romeo, is a Montague. Should mother or father know of us, I dare not think of it. Horrendous the outcome would be. I should not have spoken to him. I would not have if I had known of his family. No! No, I should not think like that. A name is only a name. Whether he be Montague or not, whether he is called King or peasant, Luctentio or Bud Spud, it matters not. This feud between our families is petty and ridiculous. Romeo and I, I believe we are the ones who will put an end to the foolishness. I love him with all my heart can conceive. I give him my love, such feelings stretch to the moon, beyond the stars and to the very edges of all things known and unknown. I said this unto him when he came to my balcony tonight. I curse thee nurse! Curse thee for calling me and stealing me away from my Romeo. He kissed me, his lips upon my cheek as rain pecks at the soft, ruby petals of a rose. Romeo is so dashing and daring, so charming and sweet and strong. He departed but an hour ago and already I long for his presence. Romeo swore his love to me, we art to be married tomorrow! The joy I feel, side by side with my fear, excitement along with nervous trembling toes, and my rising anxious heart forbid me to sleep. Now I should be resting but I cannot. I write to thee instead. Never in my life, never in my long lived thirteen years have I felt a swell of emotions. My heart is a cooking pot steaming and spitting and boiling over as the ingredients to love, the ingredients to love being my emotions, are stirred in all at once and all too many for one soul to contain and thus  must spill over, running from my heart and my hand onto your pages. 

    Tomorrow cannot come soon enough. I wish for the blazing orb of orange to rise as swift as it ever has even if it must push the gentle pale face away, force it from the sky with all the might of God and let day break. The sooner the sun rises the sooner I shall be married, and not to the man my father so easily gave into. Eavesdropping is not lady like. I am a lady and I do not eavesdrop; however, our servants do speak ever so loud, I could not help but hear them speak of father's plans, how eagerly he gave me up to Paris. Paris of all men! If I were not so deeply ailed by love sickness I would be outraged. Paris! Father how could you think of that? Compared to Romeo, Paris is a mouse He is a mouse leaving of others in a heap of rotting vegetables. Honestly father! No I shall marry Romeo. We will leave Verona if our families will choose to be pigheaded and childish. Like the fairy tales my dear and so very strange and loud nurse used to tell me, "Love so strong is written in the stars and thus true love endures and we will live happily ever after." I will leave you now with these words for I must get some sleep and there is also the letter I must write for Romeo and give to Nurse.        

Thursday, 7 March 2013

Welcome

To fellow humans (Yes, my parents say I have to be human... unfortunately... Though I beg to differ) and other readers:
Hello, Bonjour, Guten Tag, Ciao, Hilsner, Hola, Vedui' il'er!