Norah Jones's 'Don T Know Why'

Our identity is inimitable, yet ironically it is affected by society and enigmatic forces that define our external relationships. This inextricable link between identity and social environment not only shape our identity, but gives us a sense of purpose, however when we fail to establish our sense of congruity with society through metaphysical acceptance, as a result of social isolation we can feel an abyss within our lives often forcing us to look into our inner self, as exemplified in Gwen Harwood’s poetry, especially her poems “At Mornington” and “Mother Who Gave Me Life”. These also reflect and force us to explore the impact time has on people and how this can inevitably lead to a reassessment of one’s life.

The Past, an ever growing pool of time, is always biting at the heels of a person. It reminds him of what they have done wrong, done right, or when he did nothing. For most people, recalling the past leads to loose ends and blanks where memories should be. No matter how much a person may want to return to the past, it is not possible. It is lost forever. These forgotten moment lead to uncertainties and confusion in the present, and chaos in the future. Forgetting the past leads to spirals, spinning downwards as people look to what they have lost. They retrace their steps hoping to find a sliver of who they are and what may become of them. In the poem, Itinerary, Eamon Grennan shows how an individual searches through his past, but can never return to it. Through the poem and with a personal experience I will explain how individuals deal with uncertainties in their pasts.

Edwin Arlington Robinson’s “Miniver Cheevy” (728) and “Richard Cory” (729) present the feeling of misery through the abrupt consistency of the story, this is brought upon us using a combination of imagery and irony. The poem, “Miniver Cheevy,” presents a poor man who consistently cries to himself being born in the wrong era, wishing for fame, fortune, and adventure. On the other hand, “Richard Cory” presents the same feeling, in a different perspective, the man in the story seems to have everything a man could ever want, but in the end Robinson demonstrates that Richard is miserable because he has everything but affection in his life.

Joshua Mehigan 's second poetry collection following, The Optimist, presents an anthology disclosing rhyme, meter and colloquial speech/diction infused with realist narratives and monologues bathed in the surreal lucid elements of the subconscious. Mehigan’s collection discusses the inevitability and the gravitating novelty of change as well as the facing of ones demise in both the literal and figurative sense. Whether it is an everlasting smokestack, the evaluation of a road post car accident, a town that never changes, a man on his death bed or the excitement of seeing dreary Christmas play falling apart, or someone slowly losing their sanity. Mehigan tackles complicated concepts with scenarios that are entertaining to the reader but

Using a backbeat and guitar rift to bolster the piano based tune, the pace builds as Delta heads towards the chorus. Facilitating the feeling of flying, the verses communicate the longing of our hearts as she says, “Everybody’s looking for a second chance / everybody’s wishing they could take a stand.” A softer guitar line emphasizes the uncertainty we feel before taking a major risk, allowing you to visualize yourself on a cliff edge, bravely

To start off, the first stanza in her song represents a sense of how unavoidable change is and how the confusion of the bond combined with the stress of the blame game can lead to a doomed

Often, we look back and regret certain times in our lives. We feel things would have been different if only we had known then what we know now. As we grow older, our view of the world is changes due to maturity and experience. In “Those Winter Sundays” by Robert Hayden, the speaker who is an adult, describes and reflects his experience and insouciance toward his father as a child through his tone and actions. As an adult, the speaker has come to understand and appreciate the form of love his father had for him. The perspective and meaning of the poem depends on the differences between what the boy knew then and what the man, possibly a father himself, knows now.

In Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s short poem, “The Day is Done,” the reader is given a glimpse of the Romantic era of American poetry. Structurally, it does contain many elements of this era, namely the playful use of verse or rhyme schemes. There are also vivid illustrations in this poem that some, who desire an escape from the loneliness of night, may find compelling. However, this is where Longfellow’s work seems to end in relation to typical Romantic poetry. Upon further examination of this poem, the execution of the subject matter does not seem to fit a typical Romantic era poem. Since Romantic poems overly gush with inner thoughts and sublimation, Longfellow seems to take a different route by executing a sense of dreadfulness and depression. All the while, the author reaches out to find comfort in the simplicity of poetry. In my response to “The Day is Done”, I explore why a person of this era may have felt such disheartenment for the day’s end and expresses a longing for poetic distraction.

The sky creates an ominous feel and expresses sorrow and a sense of the end of

In life choices are made, and some of those choices when looked back on from an older perspective are regretted. Correspondingly, regret and old age are often regarded as being synonymous with one another. Likewise (Moreover), the poem “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock,” by T. S. Elliot and “Losing My Religion” by R.E.M. both exhibit the theme of old age and regret.

Somber, searching an escape, a way out of the unknown. A way to heal the devastation of our flame-singed soul's.

Time, a river that travels endlessly in the same direction, never able to go back, you must always follow the current downstream. While we are young, we think little of time and rarely worry about what the future may hold. However, as we continue to age, we become more and more aware of the impact our actions make on the rest of our lives. Even now, as I sit here at the fairly young age of 17, I am already worried that I have not made the most of the time that has been given to me. With all the pressure put on youth to decide their future so early into their lives, it is no wonder we harbor this anxiety. Often, I find myself romanticizing the past because the future seems so frightening which many psychologists, like Toni Bernhard, consider to be an unhealthy behavior, but what else is there for me to do? As Lady Mary Wroth said, “In this strange labyrinth how shall I turn?” All of my worries about the past, present, and future are all mirrored well in Wroth’s Sonnet 77, as this poem encapsulates my feelings of not wanting to stay where I am, but not knowing which path to take in life.

When the last breaths of human life flow from the mouth, it is natural to have regrets, and to wonder what could have been possible without the hindrance of failure. Surprisingly, we do not regret what we did in life as much as what we didn’t do. Everyone who has ever lived has made mistakes and encountered failure. The role models of the world, the people who kids look up to as heroes, are no more immune to failure than the men who sell hot dogs outside the baseball stadium. The successes and failures of human beings, past and present, suggest that one’s prosperity is determined by his resilience and grit in times of despair.

Twilight’s such a poignant time of day, A bittersweet reminder that night is on its way; The daylight sighs and wraps her cape About the lovely shoulders of the landscape; She knows she will return upon the morrow, But her adieu holds just a hint of sorrow; For when she does return, that which remains Of today will merely be the memory of joys and pains That yesterday once held, and only now,

Elizabeth Bishop’s poem “One Art” is a lyrical poem, as opposed to one that is narrative and story-like, where the speaker is emotionally performing a kind of self-therapy in writing about her struggles in dealing with the many losses in her life, from the simplest of losses such as a set of keys, to the most painful loss, that of a loved one, most likely the person in her life to whom she was the closest. On a surface level reading, Ms. Bishop is suggesting that dealing with loss is an art form, and because there are so many opportunities in life where these situations present themselves, that with enough practice this “art” should be easy to master. But through the poem’s stanza development, it becomes painfully obvious that this poet is using irony and sarcasm to express what the speaker really feels, which is there is never enough time in life to master the art of losing. One never actually learns to master this art. Mishaps and catastrophes, which she terms disasters, just keep showing up.