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.

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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…

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Poem Response 20

Eating Poetry
Mark Strand

Ink runs from the corners of my mouth.

There is no happiness like mine.

I have been eating poetry.

The librarian does not believe what she sees.

Her eyes are sad

and she walks with her hands in her dress.

The poems are gone.

The light is dim.

The dogs are on the basement stairs and coming up.

Their eyeballs roll,

their blond legs burn like brush.

The poor librarian begins to stamp her feet and weep.

She does not understand.

When I get on my knees and lick her hand,

she screams.

I am a new man.

I snarl at her and bark.

I romp with joy in the bookish dark.

Found at: http://poetryoutloud.org/poem/237702

This poem disturbs me.

I mean, sure, don’t we all love poetry, yay us. But seriously? This is a bit much.

And what is “the bookish dark”? How can a dark be ‘bookish’? Scary, surreal, deep, forboding, mysterious, ironic, those are all fine adjectives! I just really don’t understand! So, here’s me thought. If you have an idea as to what a “Bookish Dark” could mean, you should tell me! Write a comment, and help me out some here! It’ll be fun! Poetry is always more fun when you experience it with other people. And if anything else sticks out to you, (Like the first line to me “Ink runs from the corners of my mouth” it’s delightful!) Tell me that too! And we can make this fun, mildly disturbing poem into something really fun!

Poem Response 19

The Arrow and the Song
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

I shot an arrow into the air,

It fell to earth, I knew not where;

For, so swiftly it flew, the sight

Could not follow it in its flight.

I breathed a song into the air,

It fell to earth, I knew not where;

For who has sight so keen and strong,

That it can follow the flight of song?

Long, long afterward, in an oak

I found the arrow, still unbroke;

And the song, from beginning to end,

I found again in the heart of a friend

Found at: http://poetryoutloud.org/poem/173890


I really like this poem. His flow is fantastic, the rhyme scheme is surprisingly easy, his words sound like lace, and the poem as a whole is simply marvelous.

I wish I knew what his song was about…

Have you ever had one of those moments where a thought you had forever ago is suddenly brought to mind, and it forms new clarity because of an experience? Or a feeling you thought was long since gone is re-awakened when someone from the past walks into your life again?

I feel like that is what his song was about… a thought or a feeling, and as it left his lips, it sort of slipped away into his past, as he continued forward. He forgot about it, almost, until one day he found a friend and the song was alive in them.

This poem is just cool to me.

The Unknown

The Unknown

One can always tell

When he lingers nearby

Clad in foreboding shades

Which glimmer for the joyful eye

Dwelling beneath darkness

Residing around the bend

Dancing with Hope’s willowy frame

Harmonizing Fear’s laments

He speaks as a quiet whisper

In the corner of a lonely room

Promising life changes

Of untold fortune

After you first meet him

You feel completely lost and alone

As you watch him captivate

A treasure that felt like home

He isn’t all evil

Simply unstable, unsure

And after you encounter him

You’ll be better than before

For, through pain he makes strong

The beating of a broken heart

He opens your eyes to others’ pain

For you have been where they are

He makes you grow, reach, and stretch

And though the process is painful

But one day, you will look and see

That the scars make you beautiful

The unknown is such a scary place in our lives. I really don’t like it. I genuinely like to know what’s going on in my life! So, when I find myself caught in that moment of, “Oh gracious… what is happening…” It’s really easy to feel like you’ll be there forever. And you tend to skip back and forth between fear and faith, hope and reason, reality and what you see beyond this moment. Sometimes it is so easy to get caught up in the here and now, that we forget that… in 24 hours, today will be yesterday…. And soon, it will be last week, then last month, then last year… then “That bad time several years ago”… but we’ll never be in it forever. Every second brings us one step closer to the end of this chapter and the beginning of a new page.

That’s one of the things I love about life… it’s always going…

This poem format is a,b,c,b,d,e,f,e, etc. so basically, every other line rhymes!

I hope you enjoyed!

Never Stop

 

Never Stop

She had gorgeous, star-filled eyes

And adored long-winded love letters

Butterflies filled her constant daydreams

Where love was a thought she could savor

She’d never been touched by its fragile wings

Her heart was unbroken, unchipped

She’s never fallen head-over-heels

Her heart: a beat never skipped

He’d been broken uncountable times

Pain was his ever-present friend

His soul hid beneath a hardened shell

He’d become a master of playing pretend

Their meeting was accidental

Somewhat awkward, at best

He, in dirty jeans and greasy hair,

Ran into her neatly pressed sundress

A curse left her perfect lips

As her glass vase hit the concrete

A pale hand flew to her astonished face

As it shattered to bits about their feet

Apologies seeped from her every pore

‘Till finally his laughter cut her off

Somehow she ended up in his arms

As he tried to make the apologies stop

They separated awkwardly

Then he offered to walk her home

The sky was quickly growing dark

She didn’t mind not being alone

They window shopped along the way

He asked to replace the broken glass

She waved him off, which was good

He’d offered money he didn’t have

On that day, that first day of love

Their hearts melted along with the sun

They talked and laughed about everything

Neither knew they’d found their one

Days to weeks, weeks to months

Moments blurred into the following

Seasons changed from Spring’s new Life

To the sound of Winter’s wind blowing

His deep, easy laugh filled her dreams

And she loved the look his eyes held

In moments where nothing was said

His eyes proclaimed all the words he felt

She wished she could always live

Forever and ever, for the rest of her days

Inside the precious, passionate love

That he expressed within his gaze

Her bright eyes made his dark days shine

In his arms she felt safe and warm

Her smile became his silver lining

And his secrets called her heart ‘home’

Christmas lights lined the frozen streets

Snow blanketed the frostbitten ground

A fireplace warmed the two lovers

His whispered singing, the only sound

Her head pressed gently against his chest

From her mouth escaped a small sigh

He stilled his voice as she quietly said

‘If God took me now, I wouldn’t mind”

Silently, he stared at her

Melting her heart along with the snow

Then, pressing his lips to her trembling ones,

Was the most tender kiss either had known

After a while, he stood up to go

His arms releasing her beautiful form

As his truck gave a rumble, he smiled goodbye

And drove into the snowstorm

She lay in bed, he filled her mind

As she pulled her sheets up close

Sleep flirted with her dancing eyelids

Until then the phone rang and she awoke

Groggily, she put the phone to her ear

Then heard the words she’d never forget

“He’s been in a bad accident

It doesn’t look good, get here quick”

In a haze she walked into his room

There was talking, but the words were lost

As she looked at his broken body

O’re his head, bandages were crossed

She grasped his hand. He met her gaze

Scared tears slipped from her eyes

He leaned her cheek to his own,

And whispered, “Come on, Silly, don’t cry”

Then, to his jacket on the chair,

He motioned with his weakened hand

Quietly, she reached for it, gave it to him

Though she truly did not understand

From its pocket he revealed

A ring with a diamond on top

And Just before the loud, constant beep

He breathed, “My love for you will never stop”

I’ve always had an odd attraction to beautiful tragedy. There are many types of tragedy that I dislike intensely, but bittersweet tragedy has always been a point of interest for me….

I wrote this poem because of a friend who showed me a website that had sad short stories. One story was about a woman whose boyfriend had told her not to open her Christmas gift until Christmas day. He passed away soon after, and she waited 7 years to open the package…

Inside laid a ring.

I wanted to cry so hard when I read it… The story was so sweet, but at the same time so heartbreaking…

I wanted to write a story like that of my own! I wanted to take people down a journey of love and happiness, where it ended with the promise of forever, even if one of the people is gone…

So, I began to write, and above is the finished product.

Thank you so much for reading. I hope you have a great day.

  

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