Hamlet Quote Make-Up

So this has been missing for a while, sorry :( but if I remember correctly, this assignment was "Pick a quote that describes Hamlet and explain why"

So I picked the famous "To be or not to be..." sililoquy. Though it's slightly cliche, I feel that it describes the internal struggles Hamlet feels though out the play. In this quote, Hamlet is debating whether or not to take his own life. At this point, this quote shows Hamlet's vulnerability and weakness. However, he overcomes this low point, and works through it to become a stronger person.

It shows the stages of Hamlet's thought process- from despair, to hopelessness, to the dark side of his revenge.

This quote is famous for a reason because it describes Hamlet and all of his emotional turmoil. So yeah :)

Ps I love the iPads!!!!

What the mirror said

I like this poem :) The last five lines felt kind of out of place the first time I read it though, but the more I read it, the more I kind of saw how it relates to the anger / pride the narrator feels.

This poem is one stanza long with no rhyme scheme, but it does sound like Lucille Clifton is trying to have a conversation with the reader because she speaks in a very informal way. She does this to connect with her audience -- which she manages to do.

The beginning of the poem is her describing the complexities of women. "Somebody need a map to understand you."
However, she doesn't say that women are complex in a bad way; she says it almost as to say to embrace it and that it is beautiful.

Then towards the end, Clifton becomes more aggressive and almost sassy when she says

"Mister with his hands on you
He got his hands on
Some
Dam
Body!"

I think what she's saying here is that women are not merely objects but people too. And how the title is "What the mirror said" I believe that this is a reference to how women analyze every detail in front of the mirror, and how we, as women, need to quit worrying so much about appearance. Personally, I loved this poem and I'm all about the woman power Clifton portrays in this poem :)

Plums :)

The poem this week is really short, so I'll just post it :)

I have eaten

the plums

that were in the icebox

and which

you were probably

saving
for breakfast

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold

I think this poem is a cute, feel-good poem :)
To me, it sounds like a note left to a friend or significant other. It's only three stanzas long, with four lines in every stanza. There is no rhyme scheme, but the sentences are broken up in strange ways that don't allow the poem to flow freely. I believe the author wrote it this way to emphasize the short, note-like feel to it. William Carlos Williams keeps the tone very light and slightly apologetic, but when you read into the poem, it's almost slightly humorous.

The fact that in the last stanza Williams describes the exact taste of the plums is an almost taunting kind of way is what makes it funny.

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold

Delicious, sweet, and cold plums are bound to make anyone jealous, and even more so when he stole the plums from someone else, knowing they were planning on eating them. I don't think it's a bullying type of taunting, but rather the playful taunting people do when they're around someone they are close to. Also, fruit in general are a sign of life -- perhaps relating back to spring and an approach of "taking a bit out of life." Although I'd be very upset if someone took my yummy plums, it's difficult not to find this poem endearing. :)

I don't think this poem has any deep, significant meaning behind it -- it's not teaching the matter of apologies and forgiveness, nor do the plums stand for anything really extreme.. it's just a summery, light poem that includes personal experiences meant to relate the reader to the poem. :)

It's a beautiful life :)

Just a thought.

This week has been really rough on a lot of people.

It seems that people have been overly stressed and distraught this week more than any other. And I've noticed other people haven't been helping the situation.

On Monday, a girl came crying into class because her boyfriend found another girl more attractive than her.
On Wednesday, a girl openly confessed that she, if given the chance, would pay for surgery to change her entire appearance.
Every single day, I hear in a classroom, a conversation, in the halls, girls not making peace with their looks.

And who's to blame them?

Two days ago, I walked past a group of people sitting in the hallway for a life-management class, when someone called my name, I turned around and waved at two cheerful grins looking back at me. I smiled and continued walking to my classroom. Only later did I find out by a friend of mine that a girl, who I've never met in my life, told the group of people after I walked away that, "She has a cute style, if only she was prettier."

My initial reaction to this was complete anger. I wanted to confront this girl because I was so hurt. Never have I ever been told something that happened behind my back. But the more I thought about it, the more sympathetic I became towards this girl. How manipulated are her thoughts that she can't find the beauty in everyone?  To bash a complete stranger to a group of people?
Realizing that words hold so much power, I myself felt empowered, and I have decided that the next time I see her, I am going to compliment her.

You will find help in yourself
when you help another.
You will find love in yourself
when you love another.

Society has created women to be an iconography of perfection. Skinny, tall, and glamorous is tossed in the face of every woman like some sort of checklist to be completed before being taken seriously in this world. Intelligent, strong women are put aside when compared to women who "beautiful" according to society's standards.

Every woman deserves the right to always feel beautiful, so I'm making a personal goal -- to never hold back a compliment.

Silent compliments aren't much use to anyone.

 

Life can be rough. We don't need any more negativity to make it worse.

No mistakes. There's nothing to be afraid of. You are beautiful :)

And then I felt alive.

Photograph of Me

This week, I chose to analyze "this is a photograph oh me" By Margaret Atwood. This poem is perfect for such a gloomy day :)

When I first read this poem, I thought it was interesting that the first line of the poem is in the title:

"this is a photograph of me <--- Title

it was taken some time ago..." <--- First Line

Here, the narrator is reflecting on an old picture of herself. She describes the way the picture itself looks -- saying there are grey flecks, blurred lines, smears ... etc. Margaret Atwood did this to set the reader with the precedent that this photograph is old. It's a photograph taken several years ago, and she just happened to stumble upon it.

In the second stanza, she continues to describe the old photograph and she notices a crack on the side of the picture resembling a tree. A tree is a sign of growth, which could be symbolic towards the fact that since the point when the picture was taken, the narrator has grown -- in all aspects, physically and emotionally.

In the background there is a lake,
and beyond that, some low hills

Notice how the narrator completely avoids describing herself for the first three stanzas (and the majority of the poem) which is strange since the title of the poem is "this is a photograph of me"
AND the only part of the poem in which she talks about herself is put into parenthesis.
I think this has to do to show he insecurity and pain the narrator feels.

This poem is seven stanzas long, with no general rhyme scheme. It's told sort of like a story, and it's extremely vivid in imagery. The first two stanzas consist of five and seven lines, but after that, the majority of the stanzas after that, only about two lines vary per stanza. the turning point of the poem is emphasised by the short lines and the start of the parenthesis to the end.

(The photograph was taken
the day after I drowned.

I am in the lake, in the center

of the picture, just under the surface.

It is difficult to say where

precisely, or to say

how large or small I am:

the effect of water

on light is a distortion

but if you look long enough,

eventually

you will be able to see me.)

Not literally, but the narrator drowned in emotions and despair, perhaps. She mentions that she is under the surface of the lake -- again, emphasising the fact that she drowned.

But throughout the whole poem, it's strange that she says that it's a photograph of her, yet she isn't the main point of the poem. In fact, you can hardly see her. Perhaps the narrator has moved on from this point (again, relating back to the tree). Growth is never negative; it is always positive. She no longer feels lost and hidden, and she is reflecting on this point in her life because she stumbled on this old photograph. She's moved on from this point, but she makes sure to still remember it because it was a part of her life.

"It is not length of life, but depth of life."

Ralph Waldo Emerson

You fit into me.

you fit into me
like a hook into an eye

a fish hook
an open eye
-Margaret Atwood
This super short poem makes me want to go and watch the sunset. . . Weird, I know. Maybe I just have spring fever? :)

At first, Margaret Atwood seems to be writing a love poem. Kind of like, "We belong together: we're the perfect fitting puzzle pieces." But then the reader realizes that a hook and an eye normally don't go together. At this point, the second stanza is read, and you realize that sarcasm and misinterpretation can be a powerful thing.

I thought this poem to be one of those situations where through sarcasm and passive agressive-ness, it gets the point across. I imagine Atwood telling this other person how fitting their relationship is ... in the most non-fitting way. That doesn't really make sense.

Okay, it's like if someone were to say, "That was the most compassionate thing you've ever said to me ... you actually didn't make me feel completely worthless this time." It totally reminds me of a breakup letter too. Haha :)

The beginning makes you think that it's a poem that's going to be sincere and loving, but it turns out to be so deceiving and bitter. Tricky, Ms. Atwood. Basically, Atwood is saying this relationship isn't meant to be.

A fish hook
in an open eye
Describing this relationship in such a painful (literally) way, it connects the reader in feeling emotion towards the poem -- whether it's sympathy towards Atwood or towards themselves. I also feel like Atwood is insulting the person:
"Oh haha. You're totally the best person ever ... if everyone else on this planet didn't exist."

Catch my drift? :)

I like this poem. It's so short, with only 5 lines, and two stanza's, but I think Margaret Atwood did this to keep the focus straight and to make the turning point have a bite to it. by making this poem so short, it makes the poem feel so exposed and so raw -- and I really like that it.
P.S Regina Spektor wrote a song where she mentions Margaret Atwood and Virginia Woolf. I kept singing that song while I did this blog. :)

The Book.

Let me just start out by saying props to Miller Williams for writing such a neat poem! It totally shocked me at how vivid the imagery was (not to mention kind of grossed me out, haha)

Anyways, this poem starts out by this friend, we'll say, who is listening to a story of a boy who found a book with blank pages in an old bunker. The boy starts writing in it as if it were his sketchbook and diary. One day, he shows the book to an old bookeeper who, completely in shock, tells the boy that the book is made out of human skin. It never tells us how the boy reacted to such news, but I assume it went something like this:

"-Gasp- it's made out of human skin! Ahh jkaf;dl!!"
"Well....I've been writing in it for a few years...It did feel a litte uhh, 'fleshy'. . . And I guess I always did feel a little sketch while writing in it...So uhhm..yeah."

And then the man probably looked at him, and there were no doubt some awkward glances exchanged. Typical.

But! On a more serious note, I think the way Williams presents this poem is the brilliant part: he doesn't tip-toe around the turning point of the poem -- a book bound in human skin. He doesn't foreshadow the turning point, so the reader doesn't dwell on the anticipation of figuring out the punchline before it is even given. Also, Williams' diction throughout the poem is kept very simple -- almost as if wanting to just keep the focus of the book and not distract the reader with crazy, vivid words. This poem is a sestet with no rhyme scheme. It's told almost like a story. The end shows repetition with, "I stared..." to provide emphasis on the last stanza, which is a second turning point in the poem.

My interpretation of this poem is that obviously, this book isn't made out of human skin but out of memories. Memories so vivid that they take the form of something. Perhaps the "human flesh" was that of the boy. And when the friend asks himself who the flesh is made out of, a child or a woman or a man, it's sort of all of them -- all the people who interacted with the boy and made those memories.

I stared and a horror gre, which was, which is,
how beautiful it was until I knew.

The memories were beautiful. The illustrations...flawless.
But when he found out what it was, the illusion was ruined.
Maybe playing the 'ignorance is bliss' card..?

You are lovely.

You are lovely. by msramos11 featuring floral dresses

So there's a super, duper cool site called polyvore.com where you can make a collection/outfit out of millions of pieces of clothes, accessories, you name it! I made this little outfit, and I absolutely love it! I wish I had it in my closet :)

The trees in the garden...

I didn't really know what to think of this poem. It confused me for some weird reason, but I'll get to that later on.
It's a one stanza poem with no general rhyme scheme, and! Surprisingly enough, there's dialogue in it, which was a really neat twist. The hyphens towards the end made the poem more impactful by creating a pause before revealing the last sentence. (Which, I love :))

Okay, so basically this poem shows the imagery of a sort of garden at the beginning. Children are picking flowers and only the fittest and strongest are picking the "heaps" of flowers. In the end, only chance blossoms were all that remained for the more feeble children. Then I guess a kid runs to the father and tells him how this is unjust. The father assures the kis that this is just. This is the part I don't understand:

For, look you,

Are not they who possess the flowers

Stronger, bolder, and shrewder

Than they who have none?

Why should the strong—

--the beautiful strong—

Why should they not have the flowers?"

Is the father saying that everyone should have flowers even if they are strong? That doesn't make sense since the kid is telling the father it's not fair that the strong get more flowers...?

Or is the father saying that everyone got flowers, and everyone who has flowers is strong -- stronger than those who don't have flowers, so even the weak are strong?

But if it were the latter, why does he say, "Why should they not have the flowers?"

If he's being just, why doesn't everyone get flowers -- weak and strong?

I can't even decide what I think it is; I just have so many questions about the ending. I just think everyone should get flowers!

I  haven't a clue why this poem is causing me so many problems. :(

Cottonmouth Country

Dear Mrs. White, 

Life has been kinda crazy with homework and me being sick that one week, so I'm very sorry my blogs haven't been up to date. I'm playing catch up this week; I promise I'll be on top of things from now on :)

Cottonmouth Country

By Louise Gluck

Fish bones walked the waves off Hatteras.

And there were other signs

That Death wooed us, by water, wooed us

By land:  among the pines

An uncurled cottonmouth that rolled on moss

Reared in the polluted air.

Birth, not death, is the hard loss.

I know.  I also left a skin there.

Since it was short, I just posted the whole poem up on here. :)

The first time I read this poem, the feeling I got from it was a sort of eerie, depressing, and dark feel (probably because it mentions fish bones and Death -- all reasonable to give off such a feeling.) But the more times I read it, the more my feelings turned towards a sort of dissatisfaction.

"An uncurled cottonmouth that rolled on moss

Reared in the polluted air"

I found this to be one of the main lines in which I thought the Gluck was dissatisfied. The way she describes this place seems very unattached and she uses words that aren't words you would say to describe a place you love. (polluted air ... uncurled cottonmouth... etc.)

This poem is an octet, with no set rhyming scheme. I believe Gluck did this because she really only had one main thing to say, and she wanted to be blunt about it.

When Gluck mentions, "Birth, not death, is the hard loss" notice this is the second time she mentions "death" but does not capitalize the second use of it. Perhaps this was unintentional, but I think because the first mention of Death referred to the place, she capitalized it to show emphasis on how she much she regretted living there. The second mention of death is more of just emphasising the opposite birth.

Birth, not death, is the hard loss.

Birth is also something one can't control, and it's deemed a miracle. For Gluck to say otherwise makes the poem more striking, and it shows how unhappy she was living in the cottonmouth country. She's explaining how, if given the choice, she would not choose to live there and die somewhere else.

This poem is really depressing, and I didn't really like it too much just because I pictured her whining about how she didn't like where she lived. And she tried too hard to be creative. Cottonmouth is a snake, and she finished the poem saying, "I know. I also left a skin there" to show change.

It was a dream.

"You know, I dream sometimes about flying. It starts out like I’m running really, really fast. I’m like, superhuman. And the terrain starts to get really rocky and steep. And then I’m running so fast that my feet aren’t touching the ground. And I’m floating, and it’s like this amazing, amazing realness. I’m free. I’m safe. Then I realize… I’m completely alone... And then I wake up." -- 500 Days of Summer

Dreams are made of desires, fears, and everyday occurances. As said in psychology, dreams are the place where the subconcious can speak, so when I first read this poem by Lucille Clifton, this is what initially came to mind.
I imagined a person dreaming, haunted by this lady with wild hair, talking about regret.

"And she twisted her wild hair
and sparked her wild eyes
and screamed as long as
I could hear her..."

What I realized however, is that I don't think the person was literally dreaming but day-dreaming. She feels regret on how she handled a situation. Everybody always wonders how a situation could have potentially gone different, what could have been said, what could have been done -- this idea infects your mind until it's hard to concentrate on anything else.

"what
i pleaded with her, could I do,
oh what could I have done?"

This is her talking to her subconcious, recollecting what she could have done differently.

"This. This. This."

The poem ends with her subconcious telling her "this, this this," is what you could've done differently.
The emphasis of the whole poem is centered around the last line. Clifton makes the tone of the poem to be that of desapair -- and almost with some hope in it. By ending the poem with "This. This. This" (emphasis on the periods) the despair is put to an end, and the person begins to accept the fact that he/she cannot change what has happened. This whole poem is one stanza long, which I think is a way to emphasise the imagery in the poem. Her despair is the tone of the poem by using phrases like "pleaded" and "what my days had come to." I think the poem is a little too sad for my taste, but I kind of like it. :)

P.S. I asked my dad what he thought of the poem, and he said that he thought it was a man that was the main person of the poem -- I thought it was a woman. Maybe we realte ourselves to people in the poem?

My list ... so far :]

This is my bucket list, per se, I've gotten ideas from everywhere, but I hope that this list grows. :]

P.S I tried to be sneaky and put in really easy ones so it would disguise the difficult ones, and maybe seeing the easy ones, my mind would automatically stumble upon the hard ones and say, "the other ones were so easy, I'm sure these are cake too!" So then maybe I might actually do them, and then I would win. 

...And winning is always fun.

Here goes nothing ...

1. Meet Zooey Deschanel (One of my more ridiculous ones :))

2. Grow my hair out long

3. Jump out of a plane

4. Get published in the newspaper

5. Run in a fancy dress for charity

6. Plant a tree and carve my name in it

7. Go on a vacation with no luggage

8. Blow one month's wages on shoes

9. Meditate for 3 hours in one sitting

10. Ride a giant rollercoaster

11. Surf and Snowboard in the same day

12. Build a tree house

13. View a house I can't afford

14. Leave a love note on a windshield

15. Wear a fancy dress for the whole day

16. Send flowers for no reason at all

17. Take a vow of silence for one day

18. Send a message in a bottle

19. Kick a nasty habit

20. Send my parents on a trip

21. Buy jewelery from Tiffany and Co.

22. Sew an outfit and wear it

23. Sing on a subway with my headphones in

24. Go without a cell phone for a week.

25. Be a vegetarian for 21 days

26. Get a Master's Degree

27. Take a picture of myself everyday for a year

28. Travel to Greece

29. Intake nothing but water for 48 hours

30. Take a chance.

Rock bottom is a beautiful start. 

I totally recommend doing a list. It was lots of fun, and it doesn't hurt to have goals and dreams :)

P.S. Mrs White, I'm so glad you had us do blogs -- it's quite possibly one of my favorite things to do.

The Cat by Miroslav Holub

Sorry this poetry response is late; I haven't had lots of time and I didn't want to throw something together and do a bad response. Anyways, this week, I decided to do a response on The Cat by Miroslav Holub. :)
The first time I read through it, I immediately knew that this was a poem that had to be read out loud.

So I did.

I noticed that there were many pauses in the poem. The words are separated and indented that it causes the reader to take some unnecessary pauses.
For example the first stanza:

Outside it was night
like a book without letters.
And the eternal dark
dripped to the stars through the sieve of the
city.

'Dripped' and 'city' are interrupted by the spacing. I feel like Holub wrote it this way to be more poetic. By spacing it this way, the pauses almost make the poem seem more eloquent. It also seems that with every new line of a word, it's a new comparison. The eternal dark is dripped to the stars, through the city.

This whole poem is about a black cat that leaves, but the person doesn't want it to. I don't think it's a literal interpretation of an actual cat, but perhaps a lost friend. 
"I said to her
do not go
why want
nothing?"

I feel like this is the moment when someone is about to go, that you use any excuse to stop them. It's too painful to let them leave like that without trying to at least stop them, so you resort to any option that you possibly can -- even if it sounds ridiculous.

The tone of the poem is extremely pensive and gloomy. I don't think it's necessarily  a sad, depressed tone, but a "what's-the-meaning-of-life" tone -- which don't get me wrong, can be depressing. There are 6 stanzas that have no particular pattern. I think the reason why some stanzas are shorter than others is the poet doesn't have anything to say to the person leaving, and for the effect. Something with meaning hits a person harder when the line is shorter.

In the end, the person leaves. And both people are left feeling empty. "The cat" may feel resent for leaving and the person sorrow.  The last stanza is what really gives the feeling of gloom and sound. Holub mentions how sometimes, when you try and listen for the cat, you hear your own self.

...Maybe it wasn't a friend. Maybe you lost a bit of yourself.

"a black cat into the black night,
she dissolved
a black cat in the black night,
she just dissolved
and no one ever saw her again.
Not even she herself."

Beautiful.

Introduction to Poetry

The poem we totally read at the beginning of the year. :) I think this poem is a very nice representation of where we all were at the beginning of the year, and our understanding of the poem was pretty accurate except now we have more experience. We were once at the point that this poem represents: trying to "beat" the meaning out of a poem or asking it to confess.

"I want them to waterski
across the surface of a poem
waving at the author's name on the shore

But all they want to do
is tie the poem to a chair with a rope
and torture a confession out of it."

I think the speaker of the poem is a teacher trying to teach his/her students how to read a poem. The teacher is trying to convince the students that a poem is beauty that can be percieved in many different ways. But eager, the students rip open the poem and try to get the one meaning out of it.
The poet set up his poem in 7 stanzas, with no set line numbers in each one. He has on line that is left by itself:
"or press an ear against its hive."
I think he did this since it's the only imagery that requires sound. By leaving this line by itself, it's almost as if it's quiet before you read this line, and then you hear the buzzing.

Although billy Collins doesn't use a rhyme scheme, I loved the imagery and personification he put into this poem. Waterskiing, feeling for a light switch, watching a mouse find it's way out -- it's so vivid and fun. :) I thoroughly enjoyed this poem; even more so now that it's the second time I've looked at it.

So...

The Desert Places poem by Robert Frost post made me a little blue, so I'm going to do a less serious post now. :) I read somewhere that said that just looking at cute pictures can lighten your mood instantly.

I hope you always

find a reason to smile :)

Fearless.

It's better to be absolutely ridiculous

than absolutely boring -- Marylin Monroe

^ This reminds me of 500 Days of Summer :)

Note to self:

Just Breathe.

Deal.

Desert Places

I found this poem by Robert Frost to be slightly depressing but very beautiful at the same time.

Personally, I don't like winter. It's too gloomy, too cold, and too monochromatic. It is most definitely my least favorite season. Winter is a pathetic excuse for a season.

Okay, I'm not that bitter...it's just winter is too gloomy for my taste. I love the sunshine. I love warmth. I am okay with admitting that I am completely biased towards summer.

Robert Frost begins his poem with imagery that we, as Coloradoens, can relate to -- falling snow. As he explains the weather outside, he links human emotion to it, which I found to be incredibley touching. "I am too absent-spirited to count; The lonliness included me unawares."

There is no doubt that winter is the lonliest season, and I think that is why I dislike it as much as I do. And I think Robert Frost compares this feeling to the cold outside because a blanket of snow outside relates to the lonliness of people -- it captivates the bleak and vulnerable side of humans, that fighting against the cold of the snow, must wear a jacket. Or fighting against the cold of lonliness, you need someone there for you.
As for the title, at first I took it very literally then I read the poem and I realized it was talking about the complete opposite. As I was imagining a hot, sandy desert, I was struck with bitter cold, and icesicles. Needless to say, I was not pleased. But I think that Robert Frost used "Desert Places" as his title so that you would imagine a scorching hot desert, only to make your mind switch settings and actually feel a cold, winter day. And I think he also meant it not as a desert place (with sand and no water) but rather, a deserted place ... with no one there. Deserted is how he feels inside and how I feel inside when I read this poem.

All of this adds to the overall tone of the poem -- which I interpreted as very feeble and melancholy. He uses four stanzas for the structure of the poem, which feels relatively average. However, I totally thought of four stanzas -- four seasons, and with every stanza, he's lonliness and sadness seems to heighten. :( I didn't realize the rhyming scheme until about the fourth time I read it; he does it very sneakily.

A

A

B

A

It's almost like you forget that the last "A" rhymes with the previous two "A's" I'm not sure why Robert Frost did that, but it's pretty cool when you figure it out. :)

Much Madness is Divinest Sense

Emily Dickinson rocks. That's all.
...Only not really becuase I don't think I could consider this a blog if that really was all. :)
Anyways, I think the most obvious theme she is trying to convey in this poem is that there is a very fine line between sanity and madness- which is true. People look at Albert Einstien and can argue both sides of him being sane and completely mad.
Besides the obvious reference to psychology, I believe this poem is also interpreting the side of the sociocultural approach to psychology -- the way a person affected according to their surroundings and social interactions / customs.
In the second line, she says, "Much madness us a divinest sense to a discerning eye." I think Ms. Dickinson means that madness is only in the eye of the observer. As Americans, we may see something of a different culture that, because it differs from our customs, seems mad. Other cultures look at the American culture and also see it as completely insane.
Then, "'Tis the majority in this, as all, prevail." -- The majority of those who think something is mad or sane are right. OR the majority will always be the sane / the one's with reason.

"Assent ( I had to look this word up; it means to agree or approve. Cool :)) and you are sane." Basically, conform and agree with the majority, and your intentions and sanity will not be questioned.

"Demur ( Again - I looked this up, but I assumed it meant disagree. I was right. :)) you're straightway dangerous and handled with a chain." If you disagree with the majority, you are seen as crazy and in dire need of help.

I think the theme of this poem is how conformity is seen as "normal." If you step outside the norm, you are "handled with chains" and basically seen as insane. It's a haunting poem that makes one think in what ways one has conformed to society -- at least I did.  I'd say this poem is kind of ike 1984 but with less brain-washing. :)

100% Guilt Free :)

So it's super late. I took a lovely nap earlier today, and now I can't seem to fall asleep. At least we have today off! :D And in celebration of that, I thought I'd do a fun little post. I love Glamour Magazine, and I especially love one specific page that comes in it. It's titled, "The 100% guilt-free page!" This is where people of the magazine come up with witty, guilty pleasures that are totally normal. It's a fun and cute way to relieve stress, and with this gloomy weather, I think it's very much needed! I usually find myself ripping open to this page whenever I get the newest issue, so I rounded up a few of my favorites to share. :)

Hey, it's okay!

...to stay in and go to bed early, even if everybody else wants you to go out.
...to not wash your veggies sometimes. :)
...to leave your cell phone at home/off/out of battery on purpose.
...to shove it in your closet and consider your place clean.
...to change outfits seven times...and then back into the first one.
...to think that the solution for dying batteries is pressing harder on the remote.
...to hate Mondays and not try to hide it. At all.
...to complain about all the messages people send you but get seriously offended when they don't.
...to ask your friends for advice and do the complete opposite.
...to secretely love being sick because you get to stay home in bed all day. :)
...to take the bigger piece.

JUST LIVE.

These just make me smile, and I hope some of them made you smile too :)

Untitled.

So this poem is totally intense on imagery. I picture the dry and deserted desert with nothing but a man and a creature. I can picture this creature eating his own heart, crouched down, with blood everywhere. Gruesome. Soo I did a little bit of research and it said Stephen Crane was notorious for being a very modern writer who could have potentially inspired the Modernists; this gives reason to how modern this poem feels. So it makes sense that Stephen Crane would write in such a modern style.
In the sixth line, the man asks this creature if his heart tastes "good" in which the creature replies to as being "bitter." First and foremost, why is this man not freaked out by this creature who is EATING HIS OWN HEART?! But besides that, I think the man is not asking this the creature whether his heart tastes good, in the actual taste-bud, edible 'good', but in the wholesome, kind 'good.' Like "You just volunteered for a million hours! You're such a good person!" :DD
...Yeah, he's relying in senses to convey a different message. (the same goes for 'bitter')

This is how I picture this poem going down: The man is like, "Hey, you're eating your own heart. I'm totally not freaked out at all. Did you discover anything?" and the creature is like, "Yeah, man. It's like, super bitter." And being the crazy creature that he is, he says he like it, which is totally absurd!
But what he/(she?... it?!) means by this is that he is a bitter creature :( (Which isn't ironic because everyone thinks of creatures to be like this.) ... and he's okay with it because it's who he is, and he can't change it.
"I like it because it's bitter, and because it is my heart."

And then there's a deep, awkward silence between the creature and the man.

Oh! And as I was looking up information, I found that the reason it's called, "Untitled" is that this poem is a short passage from one of Stephen Crane's pieces. I believe the piece is called, "Into the Desert." But I could be completely wrong since I just watched "Into the Wild," so my decision making skills could be completely biased.
I must say, I was slightly disapointed there wasn't really a deeper meaning for this title. . . :(

Of Mere Being

LOVE. :) Wallace Stevens starts off by using a sort of reversed idea ( I forgot what it's called) like, instead of saying saying, "a mind at the end of a palm," he says "a palm at the end of a mind." I don't know, was I the only one who thought this to be peculiar? What I got from this statement is an open mind. I pictured a person holding all of their ideas in the palm of their hands; kind of like "wearing your heart on your sleeve," or whatever cliche can be appropriately inserted here. :)
Then he goes on talking about a bird, that seems to come (there's a better word) out of the palm of his hand. He describes the bird as being "gold-feathered" and "sing[ing] in the palm without human meaning. Without human feeling, a foreign song."
Birds sing. So for Stevens to refer to the song of the bird as foreign was a neat approach in describing its presence.
I interpreted this poem in being a man looking into the human element and how every person percieves things differently. The mind uses different senses to interpret something, and I think that he chose a bird because it's symbolic in the sense that it is free. People are free to think what they want to, and everybody has a different, foreign song. I also pictured this bird to be very majestic, with its gold feathers and long wings. By giving this type of description, I totally pictured somebody's creativity soaring without limitation. A bird is an animal often connected to freedom, so I think this ties into, again, the freedom of thought. When Stevens says, "without human feeling," I don't think he he necessarily means apathy, but that there isn't a marked emotion that can describe every body's thoughts -- each person differs. Perhaps I'm not really getting the true meaning of this poem, but this is how I took it, and I'm okay with that. :)
Plus -- I read this poem and immediately thought of Stravinsky's Finale of the Firebird Suite. I listened to it while I read the poem. The imagery was amazing! :)