Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Found Poem: The final resting place

 we can not dedicate 
 we can not consecrate 
 we can not hallow 
on this ground.
For this is a final resting place.

who here gave their lives, 
the brave men,
who struggled.
Never forget what they did here, for this is a final resting place.
The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, for this is a final resting place.
They gave the last full measure of devotion -- that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain, for this is a final resting place.

we can not dedicate 
we can not consecrate 
we can not hallow 
on this ground.
For this is a final resting place.

Gettysburg Adress

Monday, January 24, 2011

Narritive poem: The tragic day

Happy, Excited, and Anxious i was feeling that day before IT happened.
We were going to the mall...yayyy!
She was so excited.
 so was I.
 we were going to the mall TOGETHER, bonding not knowing it would be the Last time.

 She was my 65 year old twin, hahahaha...
The only difference was she had grayish hair and i didnt.
Our faces were identical,  but  maybe a little bit different because of our age difference.
I loved her.
She loved me.

 As we walked through those doors seeing those shinning lights and colorful signs we admire them.
She loved them.
I loved them.
We talked, laughed, and sang(for no reason)
she enjoyed it.
I enjoyed it.
The smile on her face was priceless.
I would give anything to go back in time and see it again.
I miss her.
She misses me.
I know it.

 Happy and Super excited while walking home.
The smile on her face was pricless...
I felt like her smile was such an accomplishment, because i had THAT feeling.
We got home and sat at the dinner table with the family, yum... food was scrumptious and delicious.
We then sat as a family to just talk about random things.
Then all of a sudden... DISASTER STRUCK!
"I cant breathe, i cant breathe " is all i can hear her faint voice...
Im shaking, Im shaking.
There i knew she was leaving me, us... this world.
Tears ran down my cheek as i cannot hold my pain.
Her last words to me were " No me miras" dont look at me

 The ambulance came and took her away.
I receive the phone call, Cries then silence...
I let out a faint cry, then i burst into tears.
My world fell on top of me and i lost it.
I couldn't believe it.
I couldn't believe it.
She died.
She died.
Sad, devastated, and more sad... I was feeling that day after It happened.

The tragic day.

Thursday, January 13, 2011

Response to poem the "starry Night" by: Anne Sexton

This is my response to the poem "Starry night": by Anne Sexton

When i first read the poem i thought to myself this poem has a lot of feelings and you can see all that when you just read the sentences. What i mean by this is the author says words explaining her feeling towards the painting by Van Gogh. Like shes giving descriptive words explaining how she wants to die, like shes really wants it to happen. This painting is by van gogh is what the poem starry night is based on. This stanza right here where she describes the painting and puts her feeling into it. ->"It moves. They are all alive. Even the moon bulges in its orange irons to push children, like a god, from its eye. The old unseen serpent swallows up the stars. Oh starry starry night! This is how I want to die:" As you can see Anne sexton is talking about the night sky and how beautiful and unique it is and how if she dies... she wants to die like that. I think this poem is very creative and unique. I think this, because this author had poetic feelings about the painting and comparing it if it was real, and as if the painting was part of the world. She described it in a way that would made you think that's the place you would wanna go if you die. Later on i discovered that Anne sexton committed suicide and the poem made so much sense after i read it again. She wrote this poem, because she knew that she wasn't going to stay in this world for too long for some reason she couldn't handle it. So she made this painting her after world image to make her think she was going to a better place. This is my response to the poem "Starry night" By: Anne Sexton