Jamaica Water Poem

Some small trees are toward the top, growing out from the cracks in the side of the wall, they defy the comforts that the ground may bring. As the the path starts to decline, it begins shifting toward the direction of the valley. Running water can be heard, flowing in a manner of constant control and power, slowing only at certain times of the seasons. To the left, a waterfall can be partially seen roaring with a vigorous energy, cascading down the rock, plummeting into a shallow pool of water. The pool attempts to engulf three large boulders sitting on the outskirts, only able to claim their undersides. Further, a bridge comes into view, standing proud, with a solid construction of rock and mortar. On each side it offers a wall, both of which rise to protect from the drop below, with the left side forming a connection to the stone wall that preceded them. The path continues on, its convex shape of smooth stone created, suspended in the air. It finds little to care about the stream below, which meekly runs off to connect to the main pool. As the waterfall finds itself in full view, it is proudly able to show off the full might it possesses. Continuing, the path soon finds itself at the beginning of a new set of stairs. The stairs are a bit more deteriorated and uneven, showing lots of cracks and moss. They hug around a corner of exposed rock with a smaller, aging stone wall built to its right side. The stone wall, built mostly by a past construction, was

I think your feeling of loneliness and a longing for human interaction are correct. That is what the first part of the poem is literally talking about. Because of the way it is worded, I think it extends from this one person at the side of a lake shouting across to the cliff on the other side and becomes all lonely humans, feeling alone in the wilderness of their inner lives, and crying out for human interaction. What does the fellow in the poem get from his shouting besides the echos of his voice? He gets a living creature all right, who comes out of the rocks at the base of the cliff on the far side of the lake, slips into the water and swims across to him. But instead of a being a human, it is a buck moose which emerges,from the water, shaking

As I ran, I felt my foot come down on top of a moss filled rock, and I knew I was in trouble. The slick moss ripped away from the slab of granite and it sent me flying. I knew the fall would be inevitable, and took the it as best I could and prayed for some luck. Branches ripped apart my face, snapping from the contact. Blood flicked up into my eyes. My shoulder made contact with the trunk of a tree as the rest of my body dug into the mud. My legs flipped up over me, crashing into piece of granite bulging out of the ground, pain traveled its way up my leg.

My favorite poem out of all five poems we worked with today would have to be Streets. The author really knows how to connect to the reader through many emotions. She was very descriptive on the “streets’ as you can tell. Really read this very carefully and you will be able to analyze and take everything possible out of the reading.

In the second stanza, as the poet invites us to “imagine the drip of it”, I find that the sound of the words here are so cleverly evocative that they even make me thirsty! The sibilance of the “small splash”, and the pleasing clanging of consanants in “echoing”, “tin” and “mug” deliver such a strong image of water that is so needed after the image of the “crack[ed].. pod”… It is significant that the poet describes this sound of water as the “voice of a kindly god” because it emphasises to us that very often the people in such a situation (where water is so scarce), view the advent of such a commodity as a kindly act of god. What else is there to do when you have no possibility to improve your situation? What else is there to believe when you

The area is covered with trees and rocks, but the most stunning part is the waterfall. I could spend all day indulging in this magnificence, but we must keep going. Abigail is not feeling well again so we have to find a place to camp at for the

Once he reached the top, he instinctively hid it under a large pile of leaves. Then, when morning came he set it on the edge of the cliff so everyone could gaze at it. When the party began, everyone wanted to play on it. Unfortunately, as the day continued, the waterbed began drooping over the sharp edges of the cliff. Shortly after, the large mattress developed a tear that kept increasing in size. Suddenly, as if the ground was moving from underneath them, the water began to drain out. Quickly Vernan evacuated the animals as they watched what the bed had created. A large waterfall came into view, something new and never seen before. The sight was beautiful and amazed all who’s eyes had the pleasure of seeing it.

During class on Thursday when we were in sectionals, our group was taking about the main theme of the song. While they were talking, I was trying to comprehend what this arrangement was trying to paint in our minds. It hit me, this is a sad love story with more behind it. The miller is longing for someone he can not have, so he lives his life in ruin and wreck. Finally when he dies, the girl is too late, she had the chance but she lost it. She married some other guy and not the miller. Thomas Dunn English Water sadness and regret will not stop flow of water and the mill wheel will still

ethereal beings, upon thee i call to recount the adventure of recklessness the adolescents who took upon themselves the journey of a lifetime while the clock ticked away counting down the seconds before they all departed to live there own lives and never see each other again. “watching her soul be torn into

In this particular story I think that the writer uses a very bold tone. What I mean by this is, he expresses him self in a dark way. He talks about all of the things he was thinking while watching the boy drown instead of ways of helping him. One of the sentences that stood out to me was when he said, “He looks like the flayed skin of St. Bartholomew in the Sistine Chapel.”(Lynn Z. Bloom, The Essay Connection, page 102) Even the writer pointed out how wrong it was to even think about the boy like that. That moment while I was reading the tone in my mind changed to dark and sad.

This song has SO much meaning behind it that I don't even know where to start.. I'll do the best I can though. I was age 4 or 5 and my grandmother, mother, and I was going to Daytona Beach, Florida for vacation. There was a cassette tape that came with my grandmother's new car. I played that tape the whole way to Daytona Beach, Florida. My point about this song is my mother stayed out in the sun at the hotel/resort while my grandmother and I went shopping in St. Augustine at the outlet mall. On the way back to the hotel/resort this song played on that cassette tape and there was a hair brush close to me, so I grabbed it and went to singing "How could I throw away a miracle?

Poem The sky is cloudy and bland, The rays are shining down from the sky, Hitting the golden sand, All I want to do is eat an apple pie. The ocean breeze is tumbling in, Making the sound of a thousand drums, I observe it all from near a bin, As I productively twiddle my thumbs. It is now

Robert Nesta Marley, better known as Bob Marley, was a legendary reggae singer and songwriter. He was born on February 6, 1945 in Nine Mile, St. Ann Parish, Jamaica. He was the son of Cedella and Norval Marley. Cedella met Captain Norval Marley when she was only seventeen years old, and he was fifty. Norval’s family was made up of white Jamaicans from the parish of Clarendon. Due to work purposes, he was then relocated to St. Ann where Bob’s mother had grown up. On May 1944 Cedella discovered she was pregnant and she and the Captain decided to get married. Due to health issues, however, Norval had to change jobs and was forced to move to Kingston, Jamaica. He was not present for Bob’s birth, but once he found out Cedella had given birth to him he returned to St. Ann for a week. Cedella did not name the child at birth and once Norval arrived he was the one that decided he should be named Robert Nesta Marley. Shortly after his birth, Norval returned to Kingston. He would visit Bob and his mother every month or so until eventually the relationship between the “white

My bare feet pattered against the wet stones making little splashed by step. I wonder how long I have been running, for I wasn’t out of breath. Which was weird, for the only physical thing I ever usually do is shoot hoops and longboard. I was nowhere near out of breath, which felt kinda good. My feet were cramping terribly but I proceed to round a dark corner. This was when the beginning of my short life changed

In the Caribbean, specifically Jamaica, during the year of 1900-1929 there were two poets whose work truly stood out and made a statement. Those poets were Thomas Redcam (1870-1933) and Claude McKay (1878-1972). Thomas Redcam was a Jamaican poet who came from Irish ancestry. Throughout his life he promoted Jamaican literature and was a notable poet. He was seen as helpful and encouragement to younger poets during that time period including Claude McKay. Both poets had such a love for their country and made it clear in their poems. They spoke about the beauty of Jamaica, how through thick and thin Jamaica would always be their heart and homeland. The themes of nature, faith, and love are very present