New Poetry Response (Computation)

Ingrid Hernandez
February 22, 2007
The Computation by John Dome
Personal Response

S: A man
O: Losing the love of his life
A: The woman he loves
P: To show that he has not forgotten her, and cannot live without her.
S: His long lost love
Tone: Melancholic

In this poem the speaker talks about his life without his loved one. He suggests that without her his life has become long and burdensome; it is as if he was living, but was dead inside. It is interesting to note that in the first eight lines the author does not, technically, end the sentence, but lets it run on and on by using commas and semi-colons. This seems to directly parallel to the stretched burdensome life he describes after losing his loved one. His tears drowned him for one hundred years, for forty he has lived without of memories, and for a thousand he did not think nor do anything. But it is not that he is literally living forever, simply that ever since she’s been gone, his life seems so worthless that his days have become long and lonesome. In the last two lines the author really hits home his message when the speaker says, “Yet call not this long life; but think that I Am, by being dead, immortal; can ghost die?” Here the speaker wonders how he can possibly die when internally he is but a ghost. Also, the final sentence is shorter and comes to end with a question mark, just as his soul has been deteriorating with the excruciating pain her absence brought to him. Whether is losing a partner, a friend, a parent, the pain and the emptiness they leave in the lives of those who loved them cannot never cured. You remember them, you hear their voices, you see them in your thoughts, and you too start to die inside because they are no longer here. Your desperation is such that the thought of living without that one whom you loved and lived for is simply unbearable. Though I cannot say that I have lost anyone or anything that would have killed me internally, it is what I fear the most. I cannot imagine ever living without my parents, my sisters, my friends for then my life too would seem to go on for thousands of years even when my soul has died.

Journal #3 (2nd poem)

“I carry your heart with me (I carry it in my heart)” by E.E Cummings
Personal Response

S: a man in love
O: declaring his love to the woman of his life
A: the woman he loves
P: To show her how much she truly means to him
S: his love
Tone: romantic

In this poem the speaker talks of the love he feels for a woman and how it has become like a part of him; in everything he does, in everything he feels she is always present. Yet her presence is not haunting, for she is who brightens his life. This poem is very unusual in that it utilizes parenthesis all throughout. As I was reading, I noticed that the parenthesis where like symbols that encompassed what it meant for the speaker to carry her heart in his. For instance, in the second stanza he talks about fearing no faith, but in parenthesis he says that it is because she is his faith. He also says that he wants no world, but in parenthesis he says that it is because she is his world. The great love he feels for her has embedded her deeply in his heart, just as the parenthesis symbolically enclose the words that tell what she means to him. This poem is truly one of my favorites. The way in which the speaker describes the love for her is very unique yet very powerful. He describes his love as something that “grows higher than soul can hope or mind can hide”. It is as though the love they feel for each other has made them one single soul; one breathes for the other and what love is truer than that! Love is such a complex feeling that not a lot of people can explain. But the way the speaker describes it in this poem, enclosing words like treasures that are kept only between the reader and speaker, resonates to what all of us have felt for another at some point in time. I too sometimes feel like I carry other people’s heart in my heart, for they too become my everything.

poetry journal #3 (first poem)

“It may not always be so; and I say” by E.E. Cummings
Literary Critic

S: a man
O: when he thinks he is losing his loved one.
A: the woman he loves
P: to show her that his love for her is so great, that he would give away her love to another if she loved this other more than him.
S: losing the woman he loves so much.
Tone: melancholic, pure/real


In this poem the speaker is telling his loved one that he is willing to give up his love for her is she were to love someone else. It is as though he thinks that she will stop loving him or as he put it that “it might not always be so”. In the first stanza he talks about her lips kissing another, about her hair lying in another’s face. He also talks about her fingers clutching his own heart; here he paints a vivid picture of his broken heart. He hints to the excruciating pain he would feel if she were to love another.
In the first stanza, the author employs a constant pattern of ending rhyme. In the second stanza however, the end rhyme seems to be imperfect. This change also seems to be directly correlated with the turn the author takes in his message. Whereas before he talked about losing his loved one and how much this would pain him, in the second stanza he talks about his willingness to give her up. He tells her that he will take the other’s hand and willingly say “accept all happiness from me”. But it is not that he has also stopped loving her, but that he loves her so truly and purely that he would sacrifice his love for her if another will make her happier than he ever could. The loss of the melodic tone created by the ending rhyme patterns in the first stanza seems to symbolize the speakers’ loss of the one he loves. In the second stanza his words do not flow as smoothly, just as his heart is being torn apart and he “hear[s] one bird sing terribly afar in the lost lands”; just because he let her go it dose not mean that his heart does not ache with her absence. The authors’ use of ending rhyme an ending imperfect rhyme effectively conveys the intended message of his poem.

Poetry Journal #2 (2nd poem)

I Am Accused of Tending to the Past

I am accused of tending to the past
as if I made it,
as if I sculpted it
with my own hands. I did not.
this past was waiting for me
when I came,
a monstrous unnamed baby,
and I with my mother's itch
took it to breast
and named it
History.
she is more human now,
learning languages everyday,
remembering faces, names and dates.
when she is strong enough to travel
on her own, beware, she will.

By Lucille Clifton

S: The author
O: At the turning point of history
A: The world
P: to show that history is changing; it is at its turning point.
S: History
Tone: philosophical, defensive


Personal Response:

In this poem Lucille Clifton writes about having to conform to the past, letting it shape our choices and decisions. But with time, he argues, the past also helps us become wiser as we learn to desist from making the same mistakes and learn to remake history. I truly like the way the author writes about the past as if it were a child and the speaker the mother. By personifying the past, history, the author really brings home his message in the poem: that we, as humans, are responsible for the past and it is our responsibility to reshape it. I think this poem is important, and very much reflective of the issues taking place in society today. We are in a point in time were events are sure to mark the way we are to view our future actions; history is at its turning point. China’s economy, for instance, is growing at very high rates and if it is to keep progressing the way in this way it is estimated that it might replace the United States and become the next superpower in about twenty years. The economy that is known to us at this moment would be transformed; all from the relationships between countries and the way we trade would take a different turn. At this moment we can only but anticipate what might happen and embrace our past actions in an attempt to avoid a future that will harm new generations. We can only but nurture the history that was made before us; awful events that have marked our existence like the holocaust and the 9/11 terrorists attack must be used to help nurture history and teach it to walk and “travel” in the right direction.

Poetry Journal #2

Soneto
Mientras por competir con tu cabello,
oro bruñido al sol relumbra en vano;
mientras con menosprecio en medio el llano
mira tu blanca frente el lilio bello;

mientras a cada labio, por cogello.
siguen más ojos que al clavel temprano;
y mientras triunfa con desdén lozano
del luciente cristal tu gentil cuello:

goza cuello, cabello, labio y frente,
antes que lo que fue en tu edad dorada
oro, lilio, clavel, cristal luciente,

no sólo en plata o vïola troncada
se vuelva, mas tú y ello juntamente
en tierra, en humo, en polvo, en sombra, en nada.

By Luis de Gonagora


Sonnet (translation)
While trying with your tresses to compete
in vain the sun's rays shine on burnished gold;
while with abundant scorn across the plain
does your white brow the lily's hue behold;

while to each of your lips, to catch and keep,
are drawn more eyes than to carnations bright;
and while with graceful scorn your lovely throat
transparently still bests all crystal's light,

take your delight in throat, locks, lips, and brow,
before what in your golden years was gold,
carnation, lily, crystal luminous,

not just to silver or limp violet
swill turn, but you and all of it as well
to earth, decay, dust, gloom, and nothingness.


S: A man
O: Any
A: Woman who think of themselves only for their beauty
P: To warn that youth and beauty withers with time
S: Beauty/ youth- the passage of time
Tone: Reflective

Literary Critic Response:

In this sonnet Luis de Gongora talks about the splendid beauty of a woman, but warns her that with time her beauty will wither just as everything in life does. In the first stanza the speaker describes the beauty of the woman whose golden hair overshadows the beauty of the sun’s rays and the lilies that cannot compare to her brow. The speaker talks about the admiration she excites from all who look at her, drawing attention away from even the most wonderful beauties of the world. Gongora employs anaphora repeating the word “Mientras (while)” at the second and fourth line in the first two stanzas. But as the author moves from the second to the third stanza this poetic device is no longer used and the structure changes from quatrains to tercets. By breaking away from the original structure and use of anaphora the author successfully highlights the main idea of the sonnet. The author is not simply admiring the beauty of the woman but is trying to make her realize that her youth is not ever lasting. The author wants her to understand that she cannot base her life on something that will fade away with time. What is most remarkable about the structure of this poem is that it reflects the passage of time, the ending of life. Especially in the last line when the author writes, “en tierra, en humo, en polvo, en sombra, en nada” it is as if the heart beat rhythm that was carried through out the poem slowed down until it finally came to a stopped. Her beauty will die with time and she will be left with only the memories of what she once was, just as the words in the poem slowed down and came to an end. The author, indeed, is very effective in conveying his message.

Poetry Journal #2

Soneto
Mientras por competir con tu cabello,
oro bruñido al sol relumbra en vano;
mientras con menosprecio en medio el llano
mira tu blanca frente el lilio bello;

mientras a cada labio, por cogello.
siguen más ojos que al clavel temprano;
y mientras triunfa con desdén lozano
del luciente cristal tu gentil cuello:

goza cuello, cabello, labio y frente,
antes que lo que fue en tu edad dorada
oro, lilio, clavel, cristal luciente,

no sólo en plata o vïola troncada
se vuelva, mas tú y ello juntamente
en tierra, en humo, en polvo, en sombra, en nada.

By Luis de Gonagora


Sonnet (translation)
While trying with your tresses to compete
in vain the sun's rays shine on burnished gold;
while with abundant scorn across the plain
does your white brow the lily's hue behold;

while to each of your lips, to catch and keep,
are drawn more eyes than to carnations bright;
and while with graceful scorn your lovely throat
transparently still bests all crystal's light,

take your delight in throat, locks, lips, and brow,
before what in your golden years was gold,
carnation, lily, crystal luminous,

not just to silver or limp violet
swill turn, but you and all of it as well
to earth, decay, dust, gloom, and nothingness.


S: A man
O: Any
A: Woman who think of themselves only for their beauty
P: To warn that youth and beauty withers with time
S: Beauty/ youth- the passage of time
Tone: Reflective

Literary Critic Response:

In this sonnet Luis de Gongora talks about the splendid beauty of a woman, but warns her that with time her beauty will wither just as everything in life does. In the first stanza the speaker describes the beauty of the woman whose golden hair overshadows the beauty of the sun’s rays and the lilies that cannot compare to her brow. The speaker talks about the admiration she excites from all who look at her, drawing attention away from even the most wonderful beauties of the world. Gongora employs anaphora repeating the word “Mientras (while)” at the second and fourth line in the first two stanzas. But as the author moves from the second to the third stanza this poetic device is no longer used and the structure changes from quatrains to tercets. By breaking away from the original structure and use of anaphora the author successfully highlights the main idea of the sonnet. The author is not simply admiring the beauty of the woman but is trying to make her realize that her youth is not ever lasting. The author wants her to understand that she cannot base her life on something that will fade away with time. What is most remarkable about the structure of this poem is that it reflects the passage of time, the ending of life. Especially in the last line when the author writes, “en tierra, en humo, en polvo, en sombra, en nada” it is as if the heart beat rhythm that was carried through out the poem slowed down until it finally came to a stopped. Her beauty will die with time and she will be left with only the memories of what she once was, just as the words in the poem slowed down and came to an end. The author, indeed, is very effective in conveying his message.

Poetry Journal #1- 2nd poem

We Wear the Mask by Paul Lawrence Dunbar
Personal Response

Dunbar’s poem is truly one of my favorites. His message of hiding behind a mask is so much like what goes on around me. We live in a society where being true to oneself is not acceptable any more. Rather, we have begun to assign ourselves personas; we have begun to wear the masks. I have seen how others change to conform to what society thinks is right, but what about uniqueness. Are we supposed to live that behind! I see this every where: children, teenagers, and adults too. Media is restricting our thoughts. We see supermodels on TV and we think that beauty only comes in 6’1 size 3 packages. Those who cannot fit the motto are stuck hiding behind a mask, hiding how beautiful they truly are. Our children are growing up not knowing who they are for all their life they have worn the mask. A mask that hides emotions, that hides, fears, that hides flaws. But it this is what makes us human and people seem to be forgetting that. Yet, humans cannot escape the mask, simply because we want to be accepted. Only until we start realizing that we have been hiding, erasing little by little who we truly are, will we be able to accept one another despite our differences, despite our flaws. We need to let the world hear our cries, see our pain, and hear our thoughts. But most importantly, we need to realize for ourselves that we are living behind masks and figure out who we truly are. Yes humans are complex, but definitely much more interesting than a simple mask.

Poetry Journal #1

Poem: Minstrel Man by Langston Hughes
Contemporary Poet Response

I hear you laugh
I hear you sing
Oh, how could I know
Your soul cried within?

I too dance
I too sing
But can’t you see
That I too
Hold great pain within?

Both blinded by pain
Both dying inside
I can see now that you hurt
I can understand now why you cry
Your pain like a reflection of mine!


I chose to respond to Hughes poem by writing a poem of my own. When writing my own poem I was not precisely focusing on the structure of the poem, though I did try to resemble Hughes’. I was especially astounded by the brevity of his poem, his economy of words. But though simple, his words were powerful and I wanted my poem to do the same. My main focus was, however, the messages Hughes was trying to send. When I first read this poem I felt as if I knew exactly the pain he talked about. In my poem I wanted him to know that he is not alone, not the only one who lives burdened. The poem I wrote as a response to Hughes’ is not a defiance to his remarks, but simply a reminder that just like him many other have been forced to hide their pain too.

Pablo Neruda

Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche. Escribir, por ejemplo: "La noche esta estrellada, y tiritan, azules, los astros, a lo lejos". El viento de la noche gira en el cielo y canta. Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche. Yo la quise, y a veces ella también me quiso. En las noches como ésta la tuve entre mis brazos. La besé tantas veces bajo el cielo infinito. Ella me quiso, a veces yo también la quería. Cómo no haber amado sus grandes ojos fijos. Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche. Pensar que no la tengo. Sentir que la he perdido. Oír la noche inmensa, más inmensa sin ella. Y el verso cae al alma como al pasto el rocío. Qué importa que mi amor no pudiera guardarla. La noche está estrellada y ella no está conmigo. Eso es todo. A lo lejos alguien canta. A lo lejos. Mi alma no se contenta con haberla perdido. Como para acercarla mi mirada la busca. Mi corazón la busca, y ella no está conmigo. La misma noche que hace blanquear los mismos árboles. Nosotros, los de entonces, ya no somos los mismos. Ya no la quiero, es cierto, pero cuánto la quise. Mi voz buscaba el viento para tocar su oído. De otro. Será de otro. Como antes de mis besos. Su voz, su cuerpo claro. Sus ojos infinitos. Ya no la quiero, es cierto, pero tal vez la quiero. Es tan corto el amor, y es tan largo el olvido. Porque en noches como esta la tuve entre mis brazos, mi alma no se contenta con haberla perdido. Aunque éste sea el último dolor que ella me causa, y éstos sean los últimos versos que yo le escribo.

By Pablo Neruda

Poetic Language vs. Poetry

I never really thought of poetic language as being different than poetry, rather I thought of poetic language as the complement to poetry. To me poetry is created by poetic language, a language so complex yet so powerful that captivates even the deepest emotions. Poetic language, to me, is not just words, for even silence is a language. Words in poetry are but a translator of emotions, of illusions, of dreams that otherwise we might not be able to share. When we use poetic language to describe, for instance, the cold breeze dancing to the rhythm of the roaring waves, it is not simply the words that are captivating but the image that is painted in our minds; that images that evokes a sense of fury and strength yet it remains so overwhelming. What I am trying to say is that words do not stand on their own, it is a language, which implies so much more, what keeps them walking. and tome, it is poetic language what makes poetry resonate with even the tightest cords in our beings.