Poem Response 25

A Noiseless Patient Spider

-Walt Witman

A noiseless, patient spider,
I mark’d, where, on a little promontory, it stood, isolated;
Mark’d how, to explore the vacant, vast surrounding,
It launch’d forth filament, filament, filament, out of itself;
Ever unreeling them—ever tirelessly speeding them.

And you, O my Soul, where you stand,
Surrounded, surrounded, in measureless oceans of space,
Ceaselessly musing, venturing, throwing,—seeking the spheres, to connect them;
Till the bridge you will need, be form’d—till the ductile anchor hold;
Till the gossamer thread you fling, catch somewhere, O my Soul.

Found at: http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-noiseless-patient-spider/

“Gossamer” is a cool word. I like it. A lot. And because I didn’t know what it meant, I looked it up! And then found the word “Diaphanous”! Both of which are words that I am now simply waiting around to use!

And no, I’m not going to tell you what they mean. Go look them up yourself. Because it’s fun.

This poem was a bit awkward to read at first, for me at least. Maybe it was the simplest thing in the world for you to read! But for me, it was harder. I finally got the rhythm of it after a bit, and I read it through a second time, and I liked it more after that.

It seems like the author is saying how we must be patient for the things we want, be they situations, opportunities, etc. We have to simply wait for them, and in the mean time, prepare ourselves for the moment when our “gossamer thread…. Catch somewhere” because if we are prepared, we’ll be able to fly with the wind.

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

Poem Response 24

Annabel Lee

-Edgar Allen Poe

It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of ANNABEL LEE;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea;
But we loved with a love that was more than love-
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me-
Yes!- that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we-
Of many far wiser than we-
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling- my darling- my life and my bride,
In the sepulchre there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea

Found at: http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/annabel-lee/

This is SUCH a good poem! It’s so sad yet so beautiful at the same time… Edgar Allen Poe is pretty good about writing sad stuff. He’s sort of a downer. But he does write so beautifully that it does make up for his bad habit of killing people off!

“But the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee”

I just love that…

There’s something unique about missing someone when you know you can’t see them. Death is one of those things… even for Christians who have the promise of “one day” seeing them again, knowing that they aren’t going to be there until that day? It seems like every inanimate object tries its best to fill up the place that they once took.

That seems to be what he is feeling in this poem. All of his surroundings are calling to him in a way that she once did; reminding him of the place she once filled. It’s so sad, yet, at the same time it is… right.

If you’re someone worth remembering, then when you’re gone, I think the people you leave behind should have the whole world trying to fill up the hole that you alone complete.

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

Poem Response 23

I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings

-Maya Angelou

The free bird leaps
on the back of the wind
and floats downstream
till the current ends
and dips his wings
in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.

But a bird that stalks
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings
with fearful trill
of the things unknown
but longed for still
and is tune is heard
on the distant hillfor the caged bird
sings of freedom

The free bird thinks of another breeze
an the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn
and he names the sky his own.

But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing

The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.

Found at: http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/i-know-why-the-caged-bird-sings/

“The caged bird sings

with a fearful trill

of things unknown

But longed for still”

I believe that’s my favorite part of this poem.

I think there is a part in all living things that knows how things should be. In Wild animals that have been tamed, there is still a part of them that seems to play with their natural instincts, sometimes leading previously domesticated animals to be released in a facility akin to “the wild” just so they may be free to act upon the things they do by instinct alone. In children from tumultuous homes, they seek out peaceful places, people or things to give that the security they don’t know they need. People who have been unloved look for Love, but call it by a different name. People who are empty look to be filled, and usually they have no idea they are doing any such thing.

We all have a good idea of what we “should” have and who we “should” be. Unfortunately, this world makes that sort of perfection absolutely impossible, save for one thing. Jesus Christ.

He makes those impossibilities possible.

We just have to be smart enough to act on our instincts and trust the One who really is greater than ourselves to become the people and have the situations we know we really should have.

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

Poem Response 22

I wandered lonely as a cloud

William Wordsworth

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed---and gazed---but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

Found at: http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/i-wandered-lonely-as-a-cloud/

The imagery in this poem is fantastic. He so easily paints the picture of a field of daffodils dancing. I love that word. “dancing”. It’s a perfect word for poems to hold within the lines of their beings. It’s synonymous with “elegant movement”, “graceful waves” or, “gentle breathes of motion”. It captures… everything! And I love to use it to bring to life words that would normally be left stationary on the page.

Words can so easily be dead on the page. To make them more than words, sentences, phrases and lifeless ideas, you need something to bring them to life! Words like “dancing” add that something extra special. The words come alive, and fill the mind of the person whose path has crossed that of the distant author’s.

Poem Response 21

Sick

by Shel Silverstein

"I cannot go to school today,"

Said little Peggy Ann McKay.

"I have the measles and the mumps,

A gash, a rash and purple bumps.

My mouth is wet, my throat is dry,

I'm going blind in my right eye.

My tonsils are as big as rocks,

I've counted sixteen chicken pox

And there's one more--that's seventeen,

And don't you think my face looks green?

My leg is cut--my eyes are blue--

It might be instamatic flu.

I cough and sneeze and gasp and choke,

I'm sure that my left leg is broke--

My hip hurts when I move my chin,

My belly button's caving in,

My back is wrenched, my ankle's sprained,

My 'pendix pains each time it rains.

My nose is cold, my toes are numb.

I have a sliver in my thumb.

My neck is stiff, my voice is weak,

I hardly whisper when I speak.

My tongue is filling up my mouth,

I think my hair is falling out.

My elbow's bent, my spine ain't straight,

My temperature is one-o-eight.

My brain is shrunk, I cannot hear,

There is a hole inside my ear.

I have a hangnail, and my heart is--what?

What's that? What's that you say?

You say today is. . .Saturday?

G'bye, I'm going out to play!"

Found at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/16480

Have you ever felt like saying some of these things? I certainly have. Frequently. Suddenly school comes around, and you find that you might be a little more aware of that ache in your shoulder, or that runny nose… Sometimes you almost wish you had a terrible case of the flu, so you could just lie in bed and drift back into dream world…

Or at least, I do anyway.

I really like my bed. We’re friends.

Best.

Friends.

Except he is a really bad influence on me, and takes away my drive to do anything productive. Which is really my fault, since my  drive to do stuff can’t be THAT big if waking up is all it takes for the desire to be gone…

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