We’re running through the inky black darkness for what seems like an eternity, we are running out of energy- I’m panting. We slow, eventually stopping, our eyes darting around looking for an exit, nothing. Then we hear the thudding footsteps growing louder so that it sounds echo all around- we are trying to find its origin but we can’t. My friend panics and breaks out in a run yelling for us to follow. One by one we follow running deeper in to the seemingly endless darkness.
We run until the footsteps of the unknown thing fades to a soft patter and I realise how out of breath I am. looking at the others I see familiar features in the one who demanded we continue running. his face sagged but had a cheerful look. I look at the others they too have something familiar about them, one has a unique hair style- as if practised methodically and coated in hairspray. Another dressed in murky blue overalls- which I could’ve sworn belonged to me, and the last was young and had a look of sadness, hope and longing in his eyes when he looked at me but his features and hair resembled that of the older man. The darkness enclosed them and then the silence was broken with an explosive moan, then the almost inaudible footsteps came pounding louder and louder, closer and closer. we bounded into action running in- as best as we could tell- the opposite direction. Then a high pitched screech came from the woman with the stiffened hair. I turned and stopped to see the young girl being dragged
Lorna Dee Cervantes' poem, “Poema para los Californios Muertos” (“Poem for the Dead Californios”), is a commentary on what happened to the original inhabitants of California when California was still Mexico, and an address to the speaker's dead ancestors. Utilizing a unique dynamic, consistently alternating between Spanish and English, Cervantes accurately represents the fear, hatred, and humility experienced by the “Californios” through rhythm, arrangement, tone, and most importantly, through use of language.
The Poem “Introduction to Poetry” is by Billy Collins, an English poet, and it is about how teachers often force students to over-analyze poetry and to try decipher every possible meaning portrayed throughout the poem rather than allowing the students to form their own interpretation of the poem based on their own experiences.
“Hello” I shout. “Anybody there” I yell into the darkness. My voice echoes far into the darkness of the world beyond. I don’t know where I am, and I don’t know who I am. Each day I sit here calling out into the dark hoping to see the light. I am trapped. I travel each and every hour searching for light or a means to escape this perilous abyss. I wait for the light to reappear each day, small slivers of light at first. But, eventually the bright gleaming rays of light pierce the abyss.
Initially, Collins demonstrates how one can weigh a dog’s weight with his method. Concrete diction in the first stanza, such as, “ small bathroom”, “ balancing”, and “shaky” suggest the uncomfortable nature of his intimate relationship with his pet. Although Collin is unappreciated for the gritty toil determination, he praise himself to applauded that “this is the way” and raising his self-esteem by comparing how easier it is than to train his dog obesity. In addition, the negative diction used to describe Collin holding his dog to be “awkward” for him and “bewildering” for his pet. This establish he rather force love rather willing show patience. When holding a pet on scale, there is less hustle because he secures the dog’s position by carrying it. Where as when he orders the dog to stay on the weighing scale with a cookie, his dog only followed him because of the expected reward.
Freedom I need freedom Not confinement I need courage Not fear I need bravery Not cowardice
I do not know where to start with Natalie Diaz’s poem. I felt like tremendous of information had just overwhelmed me through out her poem. At times, I found myself gasping for air while she is reading a long passage with little to no punctuations. I did noticed a small tempo to the poem. The rhyming of some words created an upbeat sensation when Natalie says, “I wanna rock, I-I wanna rock, I-I wanna rock right now”. But it was only then I immediately was engulfed with words that whisked by me as “mumbo jumbo” as I tried to comprehend. I just feel frustrated to not being able cruise at her super fast pace. The image comes to my head immediately is an artist standing in front of a white wall, getting ready to splatter painting on the
His brown boots hit the earth as he ran forward, pushing his legs far past what they were capable of. His lungs burned in his chest, sweat socked his skin causing his auburn locks to stick to his cheeks annoyingly, no matter how many times he pushed them away though they always came back, but he couldn’t stop, he had to keep running. His white shorts, which ended just past the knee, had patches of dirt from the times he fell from the twigs and roots in the forest he was weaving his way through. His blue and tan striped blazer, along with the long sleeve black shirt underneath were restricting his movements, making running a difficult task, and he wondered why he chose this outfit at all. He wasn’t so sure what he was running from he couldn’t quite remember, but the fear of whatever it was pushed him forward. Soon he came to a large clearing, halting his movements. He couldn’t see the others face only his back, but he clearly held himself with confidence, and had an air of power and danger around him. He stood before a throne, it looked like it could
I’ve been told that in any form of darkness, one must find the light that leads to victory. The floor creaks across the hall as someone or something is roaming with no desired destination. A bright yellow beam of light comes on only to be extinguished five minutes later. The halls get louder with the thunderous footsteps of the darkness. “Thunk, thunk...thunk, thunk” my heart beats against my chest with the stillness of the creature I see before me. Quivering with fear in my bed I say, “Sam, is that you?” At that moment, I felt as though my heart froze in agony and shattered into fifty-one pieces of aged glass. The room turned seventy-five degrees below zero as this dark figure slowly approached my bed. Running was not an option, my arms felt constrained
This crafty collection of poems is an expression of Jessie’s, a fifteen year old girl, words and thoughts about the world and people around her. The poems express her emotions of having a bad hair day, choosing friends, and even her super annoying brother. Her laughable, sarcastic take on high school life is shown through concrete poetry: words, ideas, and design that combine to make pictures and patterns. The illustrations and text really make each poem magical.
“This debt we pay to human guile; With torn and bleeding hearts we smile,” this is a quote from the poem, “We Wear The Mask,” This poem explains how people hide their sorrows from the world. This is important because it shows how mask themselves. They hide behind the mask that could hurt them, which proves that it is harmful to wear a mask.
ow long have I been running for? Time had seemed to fly away. One minute I was walking to the shop to pick up groceries, the next I was running. Running away from the darkness. I don’t know who it was that was now following me but all I knew was I had to get away. It seemed like a nightmare but I knew it was real.
The bell rang and we all squirmed out of Mrs. Clifford’s room. Everyone with the same waning, goad. Just before we pressed through the iron guard we all hear a scream. A voice so high pitched it sent a shrill through every one of us and echoed down the pale halls. Right, then we knew we were about to have our ID cards handed to us. We drop them in the thermoset polymer pale with the sound of a marble pendulum. Out we go hands on fire, heads melting and sit under an azure, impalpable extremity. The shade from the tree froze us as it blocked out the sun. The whistle blew and we all strutted along the side of the blacktop. Just as we get to the edge we become a herd of gazelles running from a pack of hungry lions. The first
Poetry is a reduced dialect that communicates complex emotions. To comprehend the numerous implications of a ballad, perusers must analyze its words and expressing from the points of view of beat, sound, pictures, clear importance, and suggested meaning. Perusers then need to sort out reactions to the verse into a consistent, point-by-point clarification. Poetry utilizes structures and traditions to propose differential translation to words, or to summon emotive reactions. Gadgets, for example, sound similarity, similar sounding word usage, likeness in sound and cadence are at times used to accomplish musical or incantatory impacts.
The darkness continued to creep up on us like a predator stalking it’s prey. No one said a word as we continued to trudge through the thick woods, and I became lost in thought;
Hay Fever was a comical play with a strong message. The actors throughout this play steadily used others to gain their own attention. The message this play left behind after many laughs was do not use others, plain and simple.