Strawberry Fields Forever Poem

The title of Natasha Trethewey’s poem, “Amateur Fighter”, is what made me curious to read it. An amateur fighter is an odd subject choice. It is more common to read poems or even stories about great fighters or champions. The title also sets the tone of the poem. Obviously, the poem will not be about a hero, but instead, it will be about a fighter. It is also interesting that the poem is titled “Amateur Fighter”, yet the poem says that the fighter won a prize. It makes me think the word ‘fighter’ could mean a boxer or someone who is fighting for life or their place in it.

In Sharon Olds The Summer-Camp Bus Pulls Away from the Curb she states “With a pencil and two Hardy Boys and a peanut butter sandwich and grapes he is on his way, there is nothing more we can do for him” the narrator is sending her son off with what she thinks he will need not only for summer camp but for life.

Different cultures around the world utilize different techniques to pass on family histories. The Hmong culture makes story tapestries and West African tribes use song and oral story to pass on their traditions. In the poem, “The Century Quilt,” poet Marilyn Nelson Waniek shares the story of one family’s heritage and the role blankets play in telling the family history. Waniek uses the literary devices of shifts, symbolism and colors to show the complexities of the speaker’s heritage, and how the familial relationships in her life have shaped her.

This poem by Jeremy Windo is set in the passenger seat of his fathers ‘55 Chevy truck where he grew up. This poem is a reflection of the main characters memories with his dad in the old 55 Chevy truck. He talks about the paint, the interior, every little detail he can remember. One literary device that is used in the poem is end rhyme. An example of this is “Driving on a backroad / Directing a new episode” (3-4), and also another example towards the end of the story is “This one is mine / For the rest of time” (29-30). Imagery is also used throughout the entire poem as well and he very thoroughly explains the interior and exterior. This poem also has free verse in the middle of the poem in lines 15-27. This adds to the poem in helping

I remember the soda shop that Robbie Nelson and I used to frequent on the corner near the theater, but that was before the war you understand. My, you’re a bit paler specimen aren’t you, dearie?—and so much smaller than the other butterflies. So fragile—just come from your cocoon, perhaps? Anyway, where’d I put that coffee cup?

District 12 is a poverty incarnate. As plumes of ashen grey smoke pollute the sky, the monotonous sound of pickaxes bang sullenly against ghastly grey stone rings throughout the streets of District 12. Homeless men and women line the streets, laying against the walls of run down buildings with nothing but the tattered clothes on their back to shelter them from the vicious frost biting away at their flesh. Drunkards and miners drag their feet across the cracked and faded pavement, some wandering aimlessly in the hopes they might discover a better life, whilst others head towards the Hob, a makeshift agora were the denizens of District 12 attempt to trade goods and services. The sun hides behind an infinite expanse of grey clouds that blanket

We turn on the TV or log into a social media site, and see fast cars, stacks of money, mansions, and the most exquisite jewels. Get in the car, turn on the radio, and the story continues. The revolution of hip hop has submerged, and brainwashed its audience with this idea that these are the things that we’re supposed to strive to obtain. The belief then becomes that if we don’t have these things, we don’t have happiness. For years, rappers have been painting us this picture through songs, that portrayed a luxurious lifestyle as the key to happiness. In 2014, rap genius J Cole, destroyed the idea that wealth was the equivalent to happiness in his song “Love Yourz”. Cole raps this message in a very beautiful, passionate tone and opens the eyes

With happiness in relationships continuing to decline as well at the rate of divorces rising it is no surprise that marriage and love has lost the value it once had. Edgar Lee Masters writer of the “Spoon River Anthology” also seems to feel that romantic relationships have also lost its value during his time. He is able to display this though several of his poems within the anthology. His unhappiness with love, romance, relationships and marriage are shown through his poems that illustrate unhappy marriages as well as the deaths connected to them.

Promised Land In a land far, far away A girl with twinkling, almond eyes Dimpled-broad smile And a mesmeric, adenoidal voice. Dreamt of a land, far, far away. Where words don’t wound like thousand bullets and

Sweltering heat of summer beats Under the blue sky wide. Many a day is passed away Many taken in stride. Early light pushes back the night

There was such a variety of different strawberries. From different flavors, to different shapes, and even different colors! I thought there was only one type of strawberry in the world. I was wrong. Don’t even get me started on the smell. They filled my nose with the sweetest most delicious smell ever. They smelled even better than my mom’s famous brownies baking in the oven. I still smell the sweet aroma of them sometimes. I was really shocked when I saw kids my age, or even younger working. I would love to be them working on the sweet strawberry farm everyday. That would be insanely

Don't take me to that spoken phrase minefield. - My dignity slips a little further down. I never needed this before. Constant voice caressing my ears with lips that sting like your yellow eyes.

I don’t know what to write this poem about I could write about Jake’s gross pit hair Or poop, but let’s not take that nasty route What is this supposed to even share? The fact that I am not a good poet, Or that I still wet the bed sometimes?

Do you often wonder as you look up in the darkened sky at night; trying to see past the stars and say to yourself – someday.

In her poem “Route 62,” Helen Moffett paints a beautiful and powerful picture of the landscape in South Africa. However, the title evokes the image of a man-made road familiar to many Americans. Nonetheless, Moffett carefully structures her poem and employs vivid language to clearly illustrate that human achievements and life, like the titular road, are ultimately insignificant in comparison to the durability of the long-lasting mountains.