April+Woodburn

//"Poetry...is speaking a picture, with this end: to teach and delight."//  //-Sir Philip Sydney//

**//April's Poetry://**

//__1: Rough Draft of Memory Poem: (using metaphor and alliteration) __//

//I was your little band member, your potential piano player as you saw me.// //Chumbawumba was our favorite listen.// //The disk you always took from your giant glass case.// //It was the disk we danced to, the beat we bounced to.// //Two earthquakes at once shaking our aging abode.// //Your big belly was round with booze, the same special drink that colored your eyes pink.// //The drink you kept in a brown paper bag under the coffee table, the same one that made you fun.// //You danced with me tirelessly// //Till your favorite song played and you'd sit.// //"Sit," you'd tell me. "Sit, and listen."// //I did my best to float as the ocean carried you away// <span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">//"The ships come sailing in" the lyrics boomed.// <span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">//"The ships come sailing out" and they sailed you away into your memories.//

<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 90%;">+the connection you made with the song and the man's <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 90%;">+ Description of the man <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 90%;">+ Using actions and connecting them to quotes "Till your favorite song played and you'd sit. <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 90%;">"Sit," you'd tell me. "Sit, and listen." " <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 90%;">- Play around with metaphors and similes to describe the dancing even further <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 90%;">- use a lyric in the beginning i think this would make the poem more interesting <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 90%;">- symbolize the brown bag

<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif; font-size: 130%;">__//<span style="color: #f11313; font-family: Georgia,serif; font-size: 130%;">2: Rough Draft, Ode Assignment: (using metaphor and imagery) "Ode to My Sketchbook"//__ <span style="font-family: Georgia,serif; font-size: 130%;">

<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">//Hard bound, much too good for cold metal rings// <span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">//No scratchy cardboard surface or big bold pictured cover// <span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">//A rarity among books, royalty, sleek and so silently beautiful.// <span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">//Paper inside, none too thick, none too thin, none too rough, but smooth and strong.// <span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">//Two hundred and sixteen pages were two hundred and sixteen flat pieces of gold// <span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">//bound// //<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;"> in hard, imitation leather, // //<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">black and scaly textured, // //<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">A crisping lizard in the sun. //

<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">//I am humbled to think that such rarity is my// //possession// <span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">//I did not choose it at the art store as it chose me// <span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">//This glorious thing that I did not deserve to any affect// <span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">//other than the money I'd earned to buy it// <span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">//ashamed, I carried it home in a white plastic bag,// <span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">//only because i hadn't a velvet sack as it deserved.//

<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">//Thirty- three pages today are now simply paper// <span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">//the sheen that once was there of a crisp, new, golden page was now marked in and out with pencil, marker and paint.// <span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">//Covered all in unworthy drawings that will never measure up to such a hard bound glory.// <span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">//Fine lines and gradual shading// <span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">//though improved over years// <span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">//5 years of practice and care// <span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">//Can not compare// <span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">//to pages themselves.//

<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">//My Pride// <span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">//My obsession// <span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">//My artful art-container// <span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">//My Sketchbook.//

__//<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;"><span style="color: #f11313; font-family: Georgia,serif;">3: Rough Draft of 10 Line poem. //__ __//<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">"What people say" //__

//<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">Philly girls are so dirty. // //<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">Compare Blacknism // //<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">Shit's about to get real. // //<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">You're going to have to do better than that; we just saw Finnick in his underwear. // //<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">Shit just got real // //<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">I got all the black girls jealous 'cause my main girl's vanilla // //<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">Ask your man. He'll Know // //<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">Thats 'cause, you know Lexus, she's ... // //<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">Its a parabola! // //<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">Are you still getting quotes for your final poem? // //<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">Shake it up you guys! //

__<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif; font-size: 130%;">//<span style="color: #f11313; font-family: Georgia,serif; font-size: 130%;">4: I was raised by poem.// __

//<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">I was raised by the malicious and benevolent // //<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">the hot and the cold icy burn // //<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">of a mother and a father // //<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">who were both and neither strict and lenient // //<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">but never fair or just. //

//<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">My sanity created by the forced fairness // //<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">the justice and consistency of the playground // //<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">where 10 year-olds made the rules unocompanied by parents who could never understand // //<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">the so perfect balance of good and evil // //<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">such as a child can govern himself. //

//<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">I was taught // //<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">by teachers and adults and mentors // //<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">revered for educating the youth but in a place // //<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">where educating meant telling a child that there is one answer // //<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">and you have only to remember it. // //<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">You cannot search nor research the vast amount of opinions and perceptions from facts to form a conclusion, no // //<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">you must remember only what the teacher has taught you // //<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">just as she remembers only what her teacher has taught her // //<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">just as he remembers only // //<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">just as his teacher can only remember. //

//<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">I was refined by books // //<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">and authors who beat the system of knowledge over art. // //<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">Those who conquered the analysis and constant picking and nitting of perfection // //<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">that they never acheived // //<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">that they admitting to never having // //<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">the analysis that they never did. // //<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">the forshadowing that only the teacher sees // //<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">as the author never thought about it. // //<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">that moment // //<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">where someone // //<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">picks something apart // //<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">into something more than what it is, // //<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;">a feeling //

Analysis. William Blake, being not just a poet but a visual artist, obviously had a high appreciation for the beauty of things such as love, divinity, innocence, and nature. He also had an eye for detail in maters that were more brutal and gruesome in human behaviors. In the five poems I have chosen, Blake writes about both of these things, whereupon mentioning a deathly hatred, a gorgeous and happy sleeping infant, a beautiful and fearful love affair, and a message for all to enjoy life as it passes. Blake usually works in rhyme, and usually in the same patterns: a,a,b,b, like in “I was angry with my friend;/I told my wrath, my wrath did end.” This is seen in all of the poems I’ve used for this analysis and is constant throughout most of his writings. His perspective of the beauty he writes about often uses his mention of the divine, or holy image. In //A Song// he mentions the sleeping infant reminding him of the holy one, or the baby Jesus. In A Little Girl Lost he tells of the daughter shaking in fear as her father’s kind and worried face reminds her of the holy scriptures. This is something else that is signature for him, both in his pretty and gruesome works.