VI. Parents
Dear Parents:
The poems are listed in order from grades 9-12 on this page of the blog. You can scroll down to your son’s or daughter’s grade to respond to the poems that he or she is responding to or just respond to any poem that strikes you.
Also, please feel free to comment on more than one poem.
The reply box is at the bottom of the page.
Thank you for sharing your ideas and feelings about the poetry. Having parents “present” in the class through this blog adds a wonderful dimension to the conversations we have in the classroom with students.
9th Grade Poems
“Ars Poetica #100: I Believe”
Elizabeth Alexander
Poetry, I tell my students,
is idiosyncratic. Poetry
is where we are ourselves,
(though Sterling Brown said
“Every ‘I’ is a dramatic ‘I’”)
digging in the clam flats
for the shell that snaps,
emptying the proverbial pocketbook.
Poetry is what you find
in the dirt in the corner,
overhear on the bus, God
in the details, the only way
to get from here to there.
Poetry (and now my voice is rising)
is not all love, love, love,
and I’m sorry the dog died.
Poetry (here I hear myself loudest)
is the human voice,
and are we not of interest to each other?
“Because You Asked about the Line between Prose and Poetry”
Howard Nemerov
Sparrows were feeding in a freezing drizzle
That while you watched turned into pieces of snow
Riding a gradient invisible
From silver aslant to random, white, and slow.
There came a moment that you couldn’t tell.
And then they clearly flew instead of fell.
“The Peace of Wild Things”
Wendell Berry
When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.
“Introduction to Poetry”
Billy Collins
I ask them to take a poem
and hold it up to the light
like a color slide
or press an ear against its hive.
I say drop a mouse into a poem
and watch him probe his way out,
or walk inside the poem’s room
and feel the walls for a light switch.
I want them to waterski
across the surface of a poem
waving at the author’s name on the shore.
But all they want to do
is tie the poem to a chair with rope
and torture a confession out of it.
They begin beating it with a hose
to find out what it really means.
10th Grade Poems
“Out Out -”
Robert Frost
The buzz saw snarled and rattled in the yard
And made dust and dropped stove-length sticks of wood,
Sweet-scented stuff when the breeze drew across it.
And from there those that lifted eyes could count
Five mountain ranges one behing the other
Under the sunset far into Vermont.
And the saw snarled and rattled, snarled and rattled,
As it ran light, or had to bear a load.
And nothing happened: day was all but done.
Call it a day, I wish they might have said
To please the boy by giving him the half hour
That a boy counts so much when saved from work.
His sister stood beside him in her apron
To tell them “Supper.” At the word, the saw,
As if it meant to prove saws know what supper meant,
Leaped out at the boy’s hand, or seemed to leap -
He must have given the hand. However it was,
Neither refused the meeting. But the hand!
The boy’s first outcry was a rueful laugh,
As he swung toward them holding up the hand
Half in appeal, but half as if to keep
The life from spilling. Then the boy saw all -
Since he was old enough to know, big boy
Doing a man’s work, though a child at heart -
He saw all was spoiled. “Don’t let him cut my hand off -
The doctor, when he comes. Don’t let him, sister!”
So. The hand was gone already.
The doctor put him in the dark of ether.
He lay and puffed his lips out with his breath.
And then – the watcher at his pulse took a fright.
No one believed. They listened to his heart.
Little – less – nothing! – and that ended it.
No more to build on there. And they, since they
Were not the one dead, turned to their affairs.
“Eating Together”
Li-young Lee
In the steamer is the trout
seasoned with slivers of ginger,
two sprigs of green onion, and sesame oil.
We shall eat it with rice for lunch,
brothers, sister, my mother who will
taste the sweetest meat of the head,
holding it between her fingers
deftly, the way my father did
weeks ago. Then he lay down
to sleep like a snow-covered road
winding through pines older than him,
without any travelers, and lonely for no one
“Eating Alone”
Li-young Lee
I’ve pulled the last of the year’s young onions.
The garden is bare now. The ground is cold,
brown and old. What is left of the day flames
in the maples at the corner of my
eye. I turn, a cardinal vanishes.
By the cellar door, I wash the onions,
then drink from the icy metal spigot.
Once, years back, I walked beside my father
among the windfall pears. I can’t recall
our words. We may have strolled in silence. But
I still see him bend that way-left hand braced
on knee, creaky-to lift and hold to my
eye a rotten pear. In it, a hornet
spun crazily, glazed in slow, glistening juice.
It was my father I saw this morning
waving to me from the trees. I almost
called to him, until I came close enough
to see the shovel, leaning where I had
left it, in the flickering, deep green shade.
White rice steaming, almost done. Sweet green peas
fried in onions. Shrimp braised in sesame
oil and garlic. And my own loneliness.
What more could 1, a young man, want.
“THE SUBSTITUTE”
by Stephen Dunn
When the substitute asked my eighth-grade daughter
to read out loud,
she read in cockney, an accent she’d mastered
listening to rock music. Her classmates laughed
of course, and she kept on,
straightfaced, until the merciful bell.
Thus began the week my daughter learned
it takes more than style
to be successfully disobedient.
Next day her regular teacher didn’t return;
she had to do it again.
She was from Liverpool, her parents worked
in a mill, had sent her to America to live
with relatives.
At night she read about England, looked at her map
to place and remember exactly where she lived.
Soon her classmates
became used to it – just a titter from Robert
who’d laugh at anything. Friday morning,
exhausted from learning
the manners and industry of modern England,
she had a stomachache, her ears hurt, there were
pains, she said,
all over. We pointed her toward the door.
She left bent over like a charwoman, but near
the end of the driveway
we saw her right herself, become the girl
Who had to be another girl, a substitute
of sorts,
in it now for the duration.
“Mothers”
Nikki Giovanni
the last time i was home
to see my mother we kissed
exchanged pleasantries
and unpleasantries pulled a warm
comforting silence around
us and read separated books
i remember the first time
i consciously saw her
we were living in a three room
apartment on burns avenue
mommy always sat in the dark
i don’t know how i knew that but she did
that night i stumbled into the kitchen
maybe because i’ve always been
a night person or perhaps because i had wet
the bed
she was sitting on a chair
the room was bathed in moonlight diffused through tiny window panes
she may have been smoking but maybe not
her hair was three-quarters her height
which made me a strong believer in the samson myth
and very black
i’m sure i just hung there by the door
i remember thinking: what a beautiful lady
she was very deliberately waiting
perhaps for my father to come home
from his night job or maybe for a dream
that had promised to come by
come here! she said i’ll teach you
a poem:
i see the moon
the moon sees me
god bless the moon
and god bless me
i taught that to my son
who recited it for her
just to say we must
to bear the pleasures
as we have borne the pains
11th Grade Poems
“in just”
e.e. cummings
in Just-
spring when the world is mud-
luscious the little
lame baloonman
whistles far and wee
and eddieandbill come
running from marbles and
piracies and it’s
spring
when the world is puddle-wonderful
the queer
old baloonman whistles
far and wee
and bettyandisbel come dancing
from hop-scotch and jump-rope and
it’s
spring
and
the
goat-footed
baloonMan whistles
far
and
we
White Apples
Donald Hall
When my father had been dead a week
I woke
with his voice in my ear
I sat up in bed
and held my breath
and stared at the pale closed door
white apples and the taste of stone
if he called again
I would put on my coat and galoshes
“Totally like whatever, you know?”
Taylor Mali
In case you hadn’t noticed,
it has somehow become uncool
to sound like you know what you’re talking about?
Or believe strongly in what you’re saying?
Invisible question marks and parenthetical (you know?)’s
have been attaching themselves to the ends of our sentences?
Even when those sentences aren’t, like, questions? You know?
Declarative sentences – so-called
because they used to, like, DECLARE things to be true
as opposed to other things which were, like, not -
have been infected by a totally hip
and tragically cool interrogative tone? You know?
Like, don’t think I’m uncool just because I’ve noticed this;
this is just like the word on the street, you know?
It’s like what I’ve heard?
I have nothing personally invested in my own opinions, okay?
I’m just inviting you to join me in my uncertainty?
What has happened to our conviction?
Where are the limbs out on which we once walked?
Have they been, like, chopped down
with the rest of the rain forest?
Or do we have, like, nothing to say?
Has society become so, like, totally . . .
I mean absolutely . . . You know?
That we’ve just gotten to the point where it’s just, like . . .
whatever!
And so actually our disarticulation . . . ness
is just a clever sort of . . . thing
to disguise the fact that we’ve become
the most aggressively inarticulate generation
to come along since . . .
you know, a long, long time ago!
I entreat you, I implore you, I exhort you,
I challenge you: To speak with conviction.
To say what you believe in a manner that bespeaks
the determination with which you believe it.
Because contrary to the wisdom of the bumper sticker,
it is not enough these days to simply QUESTION AUTHORITY.
You have to speak with it, too.
“Be Nobody’s Darling”
Alice Walker
Be nobody’s darling;
Be an outcast.
Take the contradictions
Of your life
And wrap around
You like a shawl,
To parry stones
To keep you warm.
Watch the people succumb
To madness
With ample cheer;
Let them look askance at you
And you askance reply.
Be an outcast;
Be pleased to walk alone
(Uncool)
Or line the crowded
River beds
With other impetuous
Fools.
Make a merry gathering
On the bank
Where thousands perished
For brave hurt words
They said.
Be nobody’s darling;
Be an outcast.
Qualified to live
Among your dead.
12th Grade Poems
“The Red Hat”
Rachel Hadas
It started before Christmas. Now our son
officially walks to school alone.
Semi-alone, it’s accurate to say:
I or his father track him on the way.
He walks up on the east side of West End,
we walk on the west side. Glances can extend
(and do) across the street; not eye contact.
Already ties are feelings and not fact.
Straus Park is where these parallel paths part;
he goes alone from there. The watcher’s heart
stretches, elastic in its love and fear,
toward him as we see him disappear,
striding briskly. Where two weeks ago,
holding a hand, he’d dawdle, dreamy, slow,
he now is hustled forward by the pull
of something far more powerful than school.
The mornings we turn back to are no more
than forty minutes longer than before,
but they feel vastly different-flimsy, strange,
wavering in the eddies of this change,
empty, unanchored, perilously light
since the red hat vanished from our sight.
The Layers
Stanley Kunitz
I have walked through many lives,
some of them my own,
and I am not who I was,
though some principle of being
abides, from which I struggle
not to stray.
When I look behind,
as I am compelled to look
before I can gather strength
to proceed on my journey,
I see the milestones dwindling
toward the horizon
and the slow fires trailing
from the abandoned camp-sites,
over which scavenger angels
wheel on heavy wings.
Oh, I have made myself a tribe
out of my true affections,
and my tribe is scattered!
How shall the heart be reconciled
to its feast of losses?
In a rising wind
the manic dust of my friends,
those who fell along the way,
bitterly stings my face.
Yet I turn, I turn,
exulting somewhat,
with my will intact to go
wherever I need to go,
and every stone on the road
precious to me.
In my darkest night,
when the moon was covered
and I roamed through wreckage,
a nimbus-clouded voice
directed me:
“Live in the layers,
not on the litter.”
Though I lack the art
to decipher it,
no doubt the next chapter
in my book of transformations
is already written.
I am not done with my changes.
***********
Send your reaction to the poems through leave a reply.
April 18th, 2009 at 11:16 am
Response to “The Substitute” by Stephen Dunn
As a substitute teacher, I was attracted to this poem. I have actually thought about this before – that some of my students get to be someone else while I am their teacher. I don’t know anything about them. So I assume they are all capable. Sometimes I can tell tell when a student is surprised to get a compliment. I can tell when they are surprised to be chosen. I can tell when they are happy that they are accidently paired with an equal instead of having to help someone else. Sometimes they get to behave because they’re given a chance. Sometimes they get to be a little silly instead of teacher’s pet. It’s a little vacation for them. The end of the poem is perfect though – no one likes a substitute for too long! The expected routine is confortable, less tiring. Testing your boundries takes more energy.
-Mrs. Brown (Rachel Brown’s mom)
April 19th, 2009 at 9:20 pm
Upon reading Dunn’s poem The Substitute, I find nothing of great interest to me personally or of significance in its subject. The language is straight forward with some attempts at the use of suspense. But in the end we have a young girl who is inventing or “re-inventing” herself, without the simplest allusions to any greater meaning than what is presented; that she created an identity in the course of playing a trick, which now becomes the identity she must assume within the limited context presented in the poem. Nothing deeper than you must live with what you make of yourself can be found in this poem.
Mr. Costa (Matthew Costa’s father)
April 19th, 2009 at 10:12 pm
The poem brought to mind two pairs of identical twins I knew in school. First, there were Theresa and Margaret in elementary school. More than once they were accused by substitutes of switching places and not being who they claimed to be. This was never the case. Then there were Bruce and Paul in high school. Always doing what Theresa and Margaret had been accused of, but never getting caught.
April 20th, 2009 at 4:27 pm
The Red Hat, by Rachel Hadas is about a young boy, about eight, walking to on the side of the road to his first day of school. It is a sentimental, metaphorical, and symbolic poem not only about the boy, but about his parents experiencing one of the milestones of parenthood. Parents want the best for their children and want to protect them every time they are out of their eyesight. This poem explores the invisible bond, expressed in the line “already ties are feeling and not fact,” between a child and a parent. The “parallel paths” that part where the child “goes alone from there” means that the child is beginning to embark on his journey without his parent as he grows older. No matter how hard or far children pull away from their parents, a parent’s heart will always be able to bend and stretch similarly, as depicted in the line, “The watcher’s heart stretches, elastic in its love and fear.” The emotional experience in a parent is a roller coaster ride full of a whirlpool of feelings, including worry, fear, and love, which are evident in the line, “in the eddies of this change, empty, anchored, perilously light.” Overall, this poem shows how as children grow older, so do their parents. This means older, wiser, more experienced, and more independent as they take steps on their journey through life.
I vaguely remember my first day of school. Standing in front of the house I grew up in with my red lunch box smiling for the camera my mother insisted on taking a million pictures with. Unlike any normal kid about to go to school and be detached from their parent and regular daily routine, I was OK with going to school. I didn’t really care or fully comprehend what was going on. As soon as I walked into Ms. Addie’s room, I started playing with the toys and acclimating myself to what was available to me. My twin brother immediately started crying and wanted to leave and go home. Eventually he calmed down and we put our lunchboxes in the refrigerator because I remember we did not like cold food or sandwiches…yes we were weird! We only ate hot food, which now that I think of it must’ve been a pain for my parents to make us every day. Don’t worry, my taste buds have changed and I pretty much each anything now, except seafood, so I still have that picky side in me about food. That is all I can remember, except that I enjoyed school very much, except when it got to high school and my traumatic first day of classes. I remember being lost for weeks and not knowing anyone in my classes. I was late to every class and didn’t particularly fancy any of my teachers (at first). The worst part of my day was the end. Not only was I couldn’t find my obscure locker in the middle of nowhere and already late to my bus, but there was a horrible occurrence. A kid was having a seizure directly in front of MY locker. Stupid I was more concerning with getting my backpack full of all my assignments and possessions than worrying about the poor kid on the floor. A teacher refused to let me go to my locker, so I angrily stormed out and barely caught my bus. The kid was OK, but I failed to turn in any parental signed papers and had to explain the story to the teachers the next day. Well, to the ones who believed me and thought my story was at least more imaginative than “the dog ate it” excuse.
April 20th, 2009 at 4:53 pm
The girl in the poem attempts to recreate herself for the substitute teacher – perhaps she isn’t happy with who she is. She realizes how difficult it is trying to be someone that you really aren’t. You need to be happy with who you are. Interesting that her parents’ insist she take responsibility for her actions – and pushed her out the door to school.
April 20th, 2009 at 5:54 pm
The “Red Hat” is about a young child taking the first step of walking to school on his own and parents who must let go and allow our children to grow. Parents really never let go because as parents we are always wondering where and what our children are doing.
April 20th, 2009 at 7:43 pm
I chose to comment on “The Substitute” by Stephen Dunn.
As a substitute teacher I can relate to the message that this poem is relaying.
Students like to show off and take advantage with a substitute…perhaps they need attention or just want to be in the limelight for a time.
The girl in the poem learned a lesson the hard way and couldn’t fool her parents!
April 20th, 2009 at 9:35 pm
The ” Mothers” was the most meaningful to me. I had had three daughters who went to bed everynight to the goodnight moon poem. Our goodnight moon painting was passed down 19 years ago from my oldest daughter and stll hangs in my 12 year old daughters room. To this day, that poem still brings a smile to my girls faces and somehow has a calming comforting effect on them.
April 20th, 2009 at 9:51 pm
I am the father of three daughters. Each daughter possesses their own uniquness and i always remark to myself that it amazes me that they came from the same parents. But the one thing they are share with their mother is the pleasantries and unpleasantries that is so much a part of parenting and being the only male in the house, i am not part of alot of those interactions although i have my share with my daughters. i think in the end, my daughters do look up to, respect and love their mother even with the ups and downs of the day. good night moon was always a constant in our home when the girls were very little.
April 21st, 2009 at 11:27 pm
Good writing, I’m told, shows us a story. The language is sensual; the description is specific. Stephen Dunn’s poem, “The Substitute” is no exception: I can see it -”she left bent over like a charwoman” and hear it- “she read in cockney, an accent she’d mastered listening to rock music.” And I appreciate the poem’s play on the image and role of “the substitute.” In the end, who’s the real substitute?
April 22nd, 2009 at 2:06 am
I particularly like Li-young Lee’s “Eating Together” and “Eating Alone”. From the beginning lines of “Eating Together” and how he introduces sharing the fish with his brother, sister, and mother, the poems seems to embody the joys of the little things in life. However, he proceeds to divulge that his mother eats the best part of the fish as his father had weeks ago. That line serves as a turning point, drawing attention of the absence of the father. The words “sleep”, “snow-covered road”, “without any travelers”, and “lonely for no one” imply that the father had died a quiet death and is in peace.
In “Eating Alone”, the first few lines depict a desolate and barren landscape where even the cardinal forsakes the author. He reminisces of a time when his father had graced the garden, showing and teaching him about the mysteries of life. The fact that the author had mistaken the shovel braced against the tree for his father reveals just how heavily the thoughts of his father weigh on his mind. The poem ends with yet another plate of food, but this time, the author is eating by himself with only his loneliness for company. Although the author poses the rhetorical question “what more could a young man want”it is obvious that he wishes to share the meal with his family rather than just his memories of the past.
April 22nd, 2009 at 5:34 pm
The last three lines had some realistic meaning, but the rest of the poem reminded me of a 70’s era Hippie, smoking a joint in a coffee-house spouting verbal gobbledegook!
April 22nd, 2009 at 8:52 pm
“Because You Asked about the Line between Prose and Poetry” by Howard Nemerov.
After reading this poem, I imagined a poem to be a still photo or snapshot of my past. Whenever I see an old picture, I picture myself to be living in the past and experience the emotions and scenes of the single scene. I also imagine myself thinking what the future will be like. A poem allows a reader to read between the lines and think of creative meanings just as a snapshot of the past.
A video or movie is like a prose because you can still live in the past but more of the details of that past moment are already filled in. I do not have to try and think about the past very hard because it is shown right in front of me just as a prose is.
April 23rd, 2009 at 5:03 pm
I’ve chosen “Be Nobody’s Darling” by Alice Walker. In this world it can be difficult at times to be true to yourself and your convictions. Ms. Walker’s poem addresses this fact in such a way that her message resonates with those of us who are middle-aged, as well as in high school. I think she could have been writing this to her son or daughter as they went off to college, though I don’t know how many young people would be brave enough to follow her advice.
April 23rd, 2009 at 5:59 pm
“Totally like whatever, you know?” is so appropriate for today’s times. People do not speak with conviction anymore on any topic. In these uncertain times we now have uncertain opinions.
April 23rd, 2009 at 9:04 pm
“The Peace of Wild Things” by Wendell Berry artfully describes how we humans burden ourselves needlessly with worries of “what might be”. As one who enjoys the outdoors I very much agree that surrounding oneself with a lovely serene setting is a great way to diminish anxiety.
April 23rd, 2009 at 9:12 pm
The poem”The Peace of Wild Things” reminds me of the 23rd Psalm. The imagery and theme are very similar. They both talk of fear, still waters, lie down, “presence”, peace. It is as if the author has rewritten the 23rd Psalm to deal with what is current with his feelings of fear for his family. That is what is in the minds of parents. We do lose sleep worrying about our children. The author looks to the “day blind stars” which are symbolic of the presence of something above us, ie. God, who brings us peace. The grace he writes about in the last line is the forgiveness that God gives us. I enjoyed this poem because I was able to picture in my mind a human parent, not that different from me, looking for peace and forgiveness, and finding it.
April 24th, 2009 at 4:06 pm
My immediate reaction to Taylor Mali’s poem was generational–QUESTION AUTHORITY was a mantra from my generation along with “don’t trust anyone over 30″ which means I am exceptionally untrustworthy these days.
Yet, I have evolved into an Authority Figure (whether I like it or not) necessitated by the presence of children, now teens in the house. I must speak with authority frequently or become an ineffectual parent.
To speak with authority requires me to do some clear thinking. Developing a coherent stance on an issue takes both time and patience. And, the power of words has become clear to me. How I state my position at times can be far more influential in resolving conflict than my original decision.
In short, words matter. How we use them matters. Using our brains to develop our thinking behind the words matters. And, saying them with conviction matters.
April 24th, 2009 at 4:29 pm
Response to “The Substitute” by Stephen Dunn
The girl in the poem trys to trick the substitute teacher into thinking she is someone other than who she really is. It may have started out as a joke among the students, but became more serious as the days went by. In fact, the girl becomes a substitute to her real person, as we see her doing much the same to her parents. Perhaps she is seeking attention, or maybe she is trying to deceive others. In reality, she is only deceiving herself. She needs to be her own person.
April 24th, 2009 at 6:33 pm
Response for Laura Colandrea
The poem “The Layers” by Stanley Kunitz reminds me of growing up, how as you go through your life you constantly add on new ‘layers’, or experiences and memories. How, as a person you are always growing, although it may not be physical, but morally, emotionally, mentally, and so on. The structure was a little choppy for me but I suppose that is how it is meant to be. Maybe it is meant to represent how unpredictable life is and you go from one thing to the next.
April 24th, 2009 at 9:17 pm
“The Substitute” teaches that style is not a substitute for substance, and that although one’s style may alter his/her appearance to others, it does not transform the person’s view of himself/herself.
April 24th, 2009 at 10:33 pm
Substitute – often we hide behind masks we create and feel we are so clever. The girl in the poem is lonely and seeks attention. While it seems she is wearing a joker mask – a class clown if you will – she is actually reaching out to others for understanding. No one is listening. So she escapes, as the Substitute – at least for now.
April 26th, 2009 at 3:08 pm
The first poem “In Just” reminded me of being a little kid playing outside again. This innocence is suddenly stopped with the reality of growing up into adult hood and facing work, injustices and other responsibilities or misfortunes.
The poem “Totally like whatever, you know?” had a very sarcastic and funny tone. It accurately depicts how some children in our generation speak today. The poet makes a vital point about how today teens are so inarticulate and that is due to all the media, internet, television and social networks they are engaging in. Not much socializing is done with little kids anymore and that hinders their capacity to become more articulate.
The final poem “Be Nobody’s Darling” was a little disturbing to me. On one hand I respect the idea of being an individual and not falling to the pressures of society. On the other hand no one should be too accepting of loneliness or try to seek it since love and companionship is important for the social health and development of humans.
April 26th, 2009 at 7:47 pm
“Totally like whatever, you know?” by Taylor Mali had a very good beginning and middle – the poet had squarely set the tone to chide and gently mock those who uptalk in constant questions. But the ending seemed weak to me. Such a literal exhortation to speak differently did not seem likely to stir any reader to take the recommended action. In fact, the poet sounded too “square” (to use an old term) at the end – just another fuddy-duddy telling us kids that we should straighten up and act like they did in the “good old days.”
April 26th, 2009 at 10:10 pm
I choose ” Be Nobody’s Darling” by Alice Walker. As I read her poetry, I couldn’t help but think that as a mother, her message was something I try very hard to teach my own children. Be true to yourself. Be confident in who you are. Don’t be a follower- be a leader. Stand up for what you believe is right. Walk away when you’re uncomfortable or feel the wrong choices are being made. Be proud of who you are. However,I am more optimistic in my views and did find her poem somewhat sad. With that said, I found this poem thought-provoking and another “teachable moment.”
April 27th, 2009 at 4:26 pm
Renee (mother of Samantha Globerman)
Being different in any way from your surroundings can sometimes be emotionally difficult. Having the self confidence to follow your own path is what we would all hope for. Even though we sometimes need a push to face and make changes, it is all a learning experience. Time and facing fears can help you with that confidence.
April 28th, 2009 at 12:08 am
DJ (mother of Stephanie W)
“Eating Together” reminds me of our own Friday night dinner of steamed fish with ginger, scallions, sesame oil, and soy sauce eaten with white rice – a simple meal to be enjoyed by family, even if one member has quietly passed on.
I did not enjoy nor like reading “Mothers” – felt like blah, blah, blah to me.
April 28th, 2009 at 12:16 am
DJ (mother of Alison W)
I have always enjoyed Alice Walker’s works; “Be Nobody’s Darling” is no exception.
Step out of the crowd and be your own person – a great mantra by which to live and thrive! One doesn’t need to keep up with the Joneses – whoever they are!!
April 28th, 2009 at 8:01 am
I wanted to comment on White Apples as well.
It is the sort of poem that gets under your skin. I couldn’t figure out what the poet meant by the phrase “white apples and the taste of stone”. The more I thought, the more I found it puzzling. When I went online to see if the poet had given any clues to this, I found he had chosen the phrase much later than the rest of the poem. He had been looking for something to convey the coldness of a gravestone.
So then the whole poem fell into place for me: the abruptness with which you wake in the middle of the night realizing that the world has changed in a dramatic and irrevocable way. And, the grating taste perhaps of chewing on a pebble and seeing the coldness of a carved apple on a white marble gravestone.
Anyone who has lost a parent can relate to the feelings that these images evoke.
I thought this poem was terrific!
April 28th, 2009 at 5:18 pm
I find the message conveyed in Alice Walker’s “Be Nobody’s Darling” especially important in current life. Society has become so polarized that individual thought is often scoffed at. Even in the most free thinking environment of higher learning, students have supressed free expression. Her poem opens the reader’s eyes to the gift that individualism is and to be purposeful in creating your existence around your values and beliefs. Be not afraid to be you.
April 28th, 2009 at 6:40 pm
I enjoyed reading the poem “Mothers” by Nikki Giovanni. The poem resonated with me and reflected on my own relationship with my Mother, not to mention my own relationship with my children as a father. Do we really ever know our parents for who they are as individuals or do we see them singularly as the primary caregivers who act as a pillars of strength for the family (ala the Samson reference in the poem). Do we ever really know whether our parents abandoned their dreams to play the roles necessary as mother or father? Perhaps a child can never really escape the sins of his or her past as each relationship with his or her parent is limited by the consequences of the choices they made in their lives. In this poem, the overall relaionship seems to be grounded in the respect of parent-child, and there is not enough deeper meaning or understanding to foster a warm and engaging relationship later on in life.
Justin’s Dad
April 28th, 2009 at 9:20 pm
“Totally like whatever, you know?” pointed out the uncommitted generation. We do not speak with conviction. We seem to lose the ability to say what we mean. How can we then mean what we say? The question is why? what has happened for us to evolve to the current state? Is it because we have lost the courage to be honest to ourselves and others?
Allison’s Dad
April 28th, 2009 at 9:28 pm
White Apples by Donald Hall.
I am a fan of short poems. Though longer poems can be beautiful I am always amazed by how so much can be said using a few powerful carefully chosen words (this comment can also apply to “Totally Like Whatever, You Know?”).
In this poem I can feel the half scared/half anticipatory breath held as he wonders if the voice he heard was for real. Staring at the pale door, which can symbolize the finality and purity of death, looking for some sort of answer. If only it would just open and the death of his father was but a dream. The color white/paleness repeated throughout referencing perhaps the purity and spirituality of death, The white apples pointing to the wet season in which they bloom, a time for regeneration and rebirth. While the taste of stone reminds me of the finality of death and how grief lingers and taints the sweet moments. He is poised and ready to join the coldness and wetness outside and give into the moment and experience his grief.
A simple and pignant depiction of the uncertainty and struggle in dealing with the death of a loved one.
April 28th, 2009 at 9:31 pm
The poet of “White Apples” is feeling remorse for the loss of his father. Perhaps he is feeling guilty or upset for time not spent with his dad, and now he cannot recapture the lost time. We assume our parents will always be there, and many times we take for granted their comforting presence. Once they are gone, we are left with “white apples” and the “taste of stone,” a cold emptiness and a feeling of being alone.
I find it interesting that the poet chooses to use the words: “held my breath.” We know that the poet is thinking about his father, but it is strange and chilling that the poet is holding his breath at a time when his father has none. Since his father is no longer breathing, this shows that the poet is connecting with his father physically, not just mentally.
This past year, my family and I lost a monumental person in our lives: my father-in-law and my children’s Poppy. I would have to write a dissertation to show what he meant to us and the influence he has had on our lives. If only we could put on our “coat[s] and galoshes”…
April 29th, 2009 at 10:00 am
Ars Poetica #100: I Believe” by Elizabeth Alexander challenges the common perception of what poetry is or should be. She describes poetry as being anywhere and everywhere, not just in print and book, but in day to day life and experiences.
Poetry is “the human voice” meaning all of us are poets and have poems to tell and share.
Poems, like colors and scents, stir different reactions and emotions in each person and provide a unique and individual experience to all who read them.
April 29th, 2009 at 3:51 pm
In the poem, The Peace of Wild Things, Wendell Berry revels in the peacefulness and simplicity of animals and nature. The wood drake and the heron are unconcerned by the distractions and concerns of humans’ everyday lives. Berry longs for the uncomplicated, worry-free existence of these birds. As he wakes during the night with fear and trepidation he envies the freedom and serenity he is unable to enjoy.
April 29th, 2009 at 4:52 pm
I chose the poem “Introduction to Poetry” by Billy Collins. In the peom a teacher is trying to tell students how to write poetry. The teacher explains to the students what poetry should be, but students are unwilling to learn. All they want to do is “tie the poem to a chair with rope and torture a confession out of it.”
April 29th, 2009 at 6:15 pm
The ‘Peace of Wild Things’ is a poem that operates on a few levels. On one level it speaks to the peacefulness of nature. On a deeper level, it talks to living in the moment. It’s natural for people to get caught up in worrying about what might be, but sometimes we need to let that go and live within what is. The latin phrase, ‘carpe diem’, comes to mind with the similar thought to ’sieze the day’. ‘Stop and smell the roses’ is a similar homily – all of which seek to remind us to not look too far ahead and lose sight of what we have right now.
April 29th, 2009 at 7:53 pm
I really liked “Introduction to Poetry” by Billy Collins. In the beginning, he talks about how students should just take a minute to analyze the poem and listen to it. He goes on to tell us not to go frantic with a poem, but to do what a mouse would do, be curious and move slowly. After, he is trying to tell us to make it our own by trying to find some connections or imagery and not to just acknowledge it. Finally, the poet uses a metaphor to explain to us not to be in distress with the poem and to not overanalyze it. He wants us to really enjoy the poem and make it have a meaning for ourselves!
April 29th, 2009 at 8:17 pm
Every generation differentiates itself from its predecessors, whether it be in clothing, music, or communication. Change is a given. The children of the sixties distinguished themselves in every way possible. The generational language that the author so eloquently belittles is a phase. To the author, I say, “I entreat you, I implore you, I challenge you” to CHILL.
April 29th, 2009 at 8:30 pm
I enjoyed the poem Layers. It represents our walk through life. Each friend we meet along the way becomes a part of us that helps us grow.
Through life we experience struggles, mistakes and losses. All of these experiences add to our character and make us stronger individuals. We must live in our ‘layers and not in the litter.’ We can not submit ourselves to pity and destruction. The Lord speaks to us in our darkest moments and reminds us this is a journey we must travel; He has a plan for us. We must continue on no matter what our age. As long as we are here we will continue to change and grow.
April 29th, 2009 at 8:35 pm
For me, poetry is about a human expressing their feelings about the world around them. A human who understands about life issues, such as the poor and the sick, and what is meant for everyone. people who write poetry express their feelings in a good way about everything. A poem is like an artist. the artist draws a painting and expresses his feeling through the pen. just like an artist, a poem expresses their feeling through words. this poem is about the importance of poetry, “not about love, love, love, or that I’m sorry that the dog died.”It is about belief, deep beliefs. It expresses about everything.
April 29th, 2009 at 8:40 pm
I love this poem!! For the past two to three years I have been bothering my children and their friends about their use of the word “like” in every sentence. I repeat their sentences with the “like” phrasing which is very irritating to all of them. Since I am one of the chauffeurs for my daughter and her friends, I have several opportunities a week to bother them about their use of the “like” and “you know” phrases. I even went so far as to give one of my nieces a “Whatever…” shirt for Christmas one year since her standard response to any comment was “whatever”. Now that I have read the poem, I have more information to annoy the kids when “like, whatever and you know” continuously appear in every sentence.
April 29th, 2009 at 9:31 pm
“Ars Poetica #100: I Believe”, a poem written by Elizabeth Alexander, explores the concept that poetry can be inspired by experiences and objects found throughout every day life. The author suggests that poetry is represented not only in flowery, romantic phrases, but is also found in the mundane, such as dirt in the corner. It is not necessary to feel the extreme emotions experienced in life in order to find poetry, but can be inspired by the simplest deeds, thoughts, or items. The human element of connecting with another being can be the catalyst for a touching poem. Take a look around…there is poetry everywhere.
April 29th, 2009 at 9:43 pm
In response to “Totally Like Whatever, You Know?”
Taylor Mali
We liked this poem a lot because of its humor. Beyond the humor is something that really talks about the change that has happened between our generation and our children’s generation. About this poem, it is 100% true: everything has changed. And there is a reason: the media, movies, video games. If we go back and compare the new and old, you see the huge difference in the way people talk, dress, and act. It is like, now, everything is going by so fast. There is no more time to express what you are saying, so the kids just mush together some bits of sentences and expect the listener to interpret when asked “get it?”.
This questioning in the language of the new generation is not just in English, but also in our primary language, Arabic. VA lot of times we hear the added “understand me?” and “am I clear?” at the end of the statement said in Arabic, around the house and overseas.
April 29th, 2009 at 10:00 pm
I found the poem “Totally like whatever, you know?” amusing to read. It is funny how young kids today keep using these useless words such as “um” or “like” to stall their sentences (especially my own three kids!). I believe this is just a way of talking that was influenced by other people. I say this because after listening to my children talk so much, I too have started to put “like” in my conversations!
April 29th, 2009 at 10:19 pm
Upon reading “Introduction to Poetry” by Billy Collins, I came to realize the purpose of this assignment for both the children and their parents. When you think of poetry, some of us who prefer to interpret facts cringe and do not want to be the “deep thinker” wondering why the author couldn’t just state their feelings plain and simple. This poem tells you to sit back and just enjoy the words. One doesn’t need to find something profound in its meaning or worry that what they think it means is different from others. As the author states, you can listen to its rythmic cadance, look at the way the stanzas are laid out or dig deeper to find some hidden meaning, just don’t disect it so much that you no longer enjoy the written word.
April 29th, 2009 at 11:05 pm
This being my second submission (my first was for my 9th grader), I decided to practice what I preached. Upon reading “Be Nodody’s Darling” by Alice Walker, I decided to “waterski across the surface” (from “Introduction to Poetry” by Billy Collins) and write what first comes to mind. This poem appeals to me on two fronts. I first reacted to the words as a mother of three girls, always telling them to do what they believe is right, no matter what is “popular”. It is okay to be smart, kind, and unselfish, it is not always about “me, “me”, “me”. My next thoughts were actually political. Throughout high school, it seems as though my daughter has had to formulate, stand up for, debate, and defend why she feels the way she does about political policies. I saw her conform to the ideas of the majority as a freshman, but learn to speak her mind as a junior. “Be Nobody’s Darling”, in my opinion, encourages a person to be themself, learn from and accept their mistakes, and stand up for their beliefs; even if this puts you in the minority.
April 30th, 2009 at 12:38 pm
Be Nobody’s Darling by Alice Walker is a powerful, almost militant, declaration of nonconformity. Walker’s nonconformist does not have to justify him or herself to the group – “Let them look askance of you” – so what? The nonconformist does not need anyone’s permission. Aloneness is an inherent human right.
Walker goes further still and asserts that alonesness is actually a superior state of existence than “groupness.” Walker’s nonconformist is not part of the “madness,” does not affiliate with the “impetuous fools,” and does not walk with the “dead.”
Walker celebrates the man or women standing alone. But there is something lurking beyond the celebration and it appears as a defensiveness and uncertainty that is embedded in the poem. Call in “the nonconformist’s dilemma” where the person standing alone is nagged by the possibility that they are missing out on something. I think that this insecurity is evidenced by Walker’s harsh denunciation of the group. If he person alone is secure, why bother denouncing the group? The great irony of the poem is that the nonconformist still needs the group, if only to denounce it, thus jusifying aloneness.
April 30th, 2009 at 2:25 pm
Ars Poetica #100 I believe, by Elizabeth Alaxander, i really enjoyed the simplicity of this poem. Ms Alexander gives us permission to see beauty or poetry in the most mundane acitivitiex. She also reminds us that the sound of each others voices is the most poetic of all.
April 30th, 2009 at 2:50 pm
In the poem “Introduction to Poetry” by Billy Collins, he suggests we calmly employ our senses when reading a poem…admire it’s beauty, listen intently, sense the feeling, and consequently, effortlessly enjoy the artist’s work. By following his instruction, and without digging so deep or thinking too much, interpretation may come with ease. I also feel that with poetry, as with a painting, interpretation is individual. There…I read it…I said it…I get it.
April 30th, 2009 at 4:56 pm
In reading Alice Walker’s “Be Nobody’s Darling”, I felt a sense that its message conveyed no specific time or person. It speaks to the young, looking to find confidence and courage to be individuals as they emerge adulthood. Also to women, as they try to succeed in work, motherhood and equality. It looks to the past, all that has been accomplished yet not forgetting history or those who fought so hard to change things for the better. The words “shawl” is used to express express warmth, life and to wear our uniqueness on the outside for all to see as opposed to hide within the “riverbed” with others. The message seems simple yet within its layers are complicated issues that can be related by so many.
April 30th, 2009 at 5:49 pm
In reading Alice Walker’s “Be Nobody’s Darling”, I felt a sense that its message conveyed no specific time or person. It speaks to the young, looking to find confidence and courage to be individuals as they emerge adulthood. Also to women, as they try to succeed in work, motherhood and equality. It looks to the past, all that has been accomplished yet not forgetting history or those who fought so hard to change things for the better. The words “shawl” is used to express warmth, life and to wear our uniqueness on the outside for all to see as opposed to hide within the “riverbed” with others. The message seems simple yet within its layers are complicated issues that can be related by so many.
April 30th, 2009 at 7:11 pm
It was pleasant visualizing what was occurring in “Because You Asked about the Difference between Prose and Poetry” by Howard Nemrov. It is a beautfiul and peaceful scene. Learning the difference between prose and poetry was a plus.
April 30th, 2009 at 7:49 pm
I was reading “The Peace of Wild Thing” Wendell Berry… This poem struck a cord with me because we constantly worry about our children and the things that can happen in our lives to change our lives. Sometimes we forget to take the time to enjoy the beautiful things around us. This poem reminds us that we need to stop and “smell the roses” and enjoy our surroundings as well as our children and families so that when the world goes to fast or something bad happens around us we can remember the beauty around us and how we can truly enjoy and relax when we have the chance.
April 30th, 2009 at 8:30 pm
Cumming’s poem “in just” adds meaning with each reading. The use of “Just-” (with a capital J) appears to mean “righteous.” But it also could mean spring has suddenly sprung. There also seems to be duel meaning in the way the next line ends with “the world is mud-” before we get to “luscious” on the next line. Right alongside the innocence of kids and hop-scotch and “puddle-wonderful” there is a pretty creepy balloonman. He’s lame, queer and goat-footed – and he has balloons! He could be a threat to innocence. But maybe the apparently dubious balloonman is just like the world, which is both mud and luscious at the same time? I will be revisiting this poem for years to come.
April 30th, 2009 at 8:32 pm
After reading the poem “White Apple”several times, it seems that at the end he takes the actions (“put my coat and galoshes”) without hesitation. We are blessed if we realize that we missed an opportunity and let it pass by. We are even more blessed and lucky if we have the hope/belief that we will be able to grasp a second chance. The ending of the poem appears much more positive than the beginning of the poem, where it displays a certain sadness/gloominess. To me, the “white apples” the author refers to is something that is sentimental; something that I see, I feel, I sense in daily life (“pale door”) that makes me recall my memory (“white apples”).
April 30th, 2009 at 8:34 pm
“Totally like whatever, you know?” underscores the communication difficulties that the younger generation has today. Most teenagers spend their days texting their friends. Phone calls to another’s home are all but obsolete and even cell calls are becoming unnecessary – I’ll just text – is always the reply. Kids have no need to communicate to one another in full sentences – everything is slang and shortened. So no wonder they aren’t able to express themselves!
April 30th, 2009 at 8:48 pm
I couldn’t decide which 12 grade level poem was more depressing. In the “Red Hat” I see a parallel to what many parent’s of seniors are feeling. Although the prose appears to be describing a young school aged child, the emotions and thoughts can also be those of any parent that is moving from one milestone to another in life. College looms in the fall but thoughts of my son’s first day on the elementary school bus (and the tears that went along with it – mine, not his) still seem like recent memories.
April 30th, 2009 at 9:21 pm
The poem doesn’t just tell us,
it shows us, shouts out to us,
poetry is in us,
the dirt under our fingernails,
in your best friends laughter and cry.
Poetry is where you find it,
under a rock,
wherever you find your voice
to shout out,
to embrace yourself and the world around you,
with all its differences, complications
and demands.
Most importantly
Elizabeth tells us
to always be human.
April 30th, 2009 at 9:43 pm
In “The Peace of Wild Things,” I think the writer alludes to the need for moments of quiet, peaceful escape in a stress-filled world. In order to maintain his sanity, he seeks out the serenity of places in nature to bring life back into balance. This poem appealed to me because the author’s message is simple and straightforward – that we all must find peace in our lives through any means possible.
April 30th, 2009 at 10:03 pm
Responding to literature has always sent chills down my spine – my interpretations never seeming to coincide with those of my instructors’
That being said (and having delayed long enough), I selected the poem “Be Nobody’s Darling” because, like the author, I choose the path less traveled. I live the way that pleases me, not the way convention dictates (much to my children’s dismay). My values are guided by an inner voice, rather than the by the dissonance of radio and television. I prefer the quiet company of family, a few close friends, or animals over the congestion of public places. My family chides that someday I will live alone on a mountain top, surrounded by nature’s solitude, and separated from the rest of civilization by an impenetrable fence. But as the poem implies, there is freedom in dismissing popular conclusions, peace in accepting innate individuality, and elation in the ensuing independence.
April 30th, 2009 at 10:40 pm
In the poem “Out Out” by Robert Frost stresses the fact that a boy so young died from doing a man’s work. The poem does not state the reason why the child was obliged to do such a hard work. A young man handled the saw but was careless and the saw flew up in the air and left a fatal wound against his hand. He chuckles a regretful laugh, but he didn’t know it would be his last. His sister called him for supper, but she realized that the saw had left a wound on his wrist. She begged for him to go to the doctor, but he was in fear of getting his hand amputated. Eventually, he had no other choice.
When he arrived at the doctor, but he was still in pain, he didn’t realize it was already off. He was stunned at the sight of the remnants of his arm. Then, he let out his last breath and puffed his lips out with his breath. His life withered away and his family returned to their normal activities. It was an all too cruel ending of how a little boy lost his life to something so careless. He regretted the last moments of his life, and the spectators were astonished to see a boy doing a man’s work though young at heart.
May 1st, 2009 at 12:43 am
ChingMin Wu of Brendan W.’s dad
On Alice Walker’s “Be Nobody’s Darling”
I like Alice Walker’s Novel “The Color Purple”. “Be Nobody’s Darling” is a poem about outcast. Be not afraid to express your own voice; not worry what others think about it. This poem brings me a live picture of anti-war movement, Female African-American, and President Obama.
May 1st, 2009 at 2:25 am
The description of life’s struggle was so vivid and the calling to stand up for one’s values so strong in Alice Walker’s “Be Nobody’s Darling” that it took awhile before my feelings settles down after reading it. In a society where everyone is trying to be more politically correct than the one next to him, and there is no more right or wrong but shades of gray, we definitely need more ‘outcasts’ than ‘darlings’.
May 1st, 2009 at 8:17 am
I found “The Peace of Wild Things” to be a very timely piece of poetry. In today’s society, it is so easy to get caught up in the “busy-ness” and stress that is ever present in our lives. We simply do not take the time or make the time often enough to reflect on the beauty of nature that surrounds us. However, when we do, the peace of the wild things living and growing around us brings to us a wonderful feeling of calmness and serenity.
May 1st, 2009 at 8:40 am
I was amused by “Totally like whatever, you know?”. It made me recall a mother-daughter book club meeting in which my then 10 year old daughter and I were a part of. The moms put the girls to the task of speaking about the book without using the word “like”. There were a number of girls who found the task quite difficult. It was one of our more amusing book club meetings. It surely proved to be an effective learning experience as some of the girls struggled to speak without using “like”, and suddenly understood why the moms wanted a conscious effort to be made to discontinue its improper usage.
May 1st, 2009 at 9:07 am
I chose the poem “RED HAT” because as we prepare to send our second daughter off to college, it reminds me that no matter how old they are, each time iur children reach a new milestone or embark on a new life challenge, it still feels the way it did when we let them walk to school alone for the first time. We still experience the same plethora of emotions; pride, sadness, fear, happiness. We are proud that they are confident enough to reach new goals, sad that they don’t need us quite so much anymore, fearful of the unknown and happy for the opportunities that lie ahead. Parents know these emotions well, because no matter what, they will always be our little girls and boys.
May 1st, 2009 at 1:02 pm
“The Peace of Wild Things”
I found “The Peace of Wild Things” to be a very timely poem. It is so easy to get caught up in the “busy-ness” and stress that is ever present in our lives. We simply do not take the time or make the time to reflect on the beauty of nature that surrounds us. However, when we do take the time to reflect, the peace of the wild things growing and living amongst us can bring a sense of calmness. The style of the poem and the words chosen enabled me to visualize scenes from nature and that had a definite calming effect even as I read it.
May 1st, 2009 at 1:30 pm
“Totally like whatever, you know?”
I was amused by the piece titled, “Totally like whatever, you know?” It made me recall a mother-daughter book club meeting in which my then, ten year old daughter and I were a part of. The mothers put the girls to the task of speaking about the book without utilizing the word “like”. There were a number of the girls who found this exercise to be quite difficult. It definitely was one of our more amusing book club meetings! It proved to be quite a challenge for some, as the girls had no idea how frequently they used the word “like” unnecessarily. The poem, once again brought that memory alive for me, as well as to consider all the other words that are unnecessarily integrated into our conversations that make our speaking less than eloquent!
May 1st, 2009 at 1:46 pm
“Totally like whatever, you know?”
This poem was totally like, awesome!! It highlighted one of the core issues confronting our society today, the lack of individual responsibility and accountability. Words do matter, whether in our speech or in today’s soundless communication, called texting. You are what you eat and you are perceived by how you speak.
May 1st, 2009 at 2:08 pm
“Be Nobody’s Darling” by Alice Walker
There is nothing more important than to know you are your own person, to know that your opinion, although different than those around you, is what matters. Alice Walker, in this poem, underscores the point of being a non-conformist. She wants the reader to take great comfort in that fact. It reminds me of Rudyard Kipling’s poem, If. When all those around you are losing their heads and you can keep yours, that is what makes you a good person. To go along just to be accepted by the crowd is clearly not a way to live. It’s important to take pride in what you believe in and not to cave into mass appeal. Who cares if “they” don’t accept you, in fact, Alice Walker sees it as a reward, a reward of a good life.
May 1st, 2009 at 3:37 pm
“Be Nobody’s Darling,” by Alice Walker is about having a mind of your own and following a self-defined path, rather than one that has already been mapped out. She is urging us to “walk alone” and be spontaneous—to embrace and celebrate our individuality, without fear of judgment. Walker wants us to be outcasts. But in a larger sense, she is asking us to think about what exactly an outcast is. Isn’t “outcast” just a derogatory label for those that do not fit into the norms of our society (therefore, merely a socially constructed idea)? Why do there have to be “norms”? Therefore, I think Walker is offering a larger commentary on societal norms and our blind acceptance of them. By urging us to be outcasts, we are challenging their existence. If we all become outcasts, then doesn’t the label “outcast” lose all meaning because there is no longer anything to be an outcast from? I think this is the deeper meaning within the poem.
May 1st, 2009 at 5:50 pm
As a parent, the poem “The Red Hat” by Rachel Hadas struck a cord with me. The poem is about “letting go” and the emotions that a parent goes through when he must let go in order for his child to grow up. I especially liked the phrase ” The watcher’s heart stretches, elastic in its love and fear,” which conveys the feelings that every parent has when his or her child goes off to kindergarten, enters high school, takes the car keys for the first time or goes off to college.
I also enjoyed the last paragraph which described the change as only a 40 minute difference in the morning which has such a huge emotional impact on the parents.
I think that many things in life are about “letting go” and being a parent is part of that journey.
May 1st, 2009 at 6:14 pm
“White Apples” by Donald Hall is a poem most of us can relate to as we reach middle age and have had to endure the heartbreaking tragedy of losing a parent. I could relate to the author’s connection between “dead a week” and waking in the middle of the night to hear your loved one’s voice. Subconsciously, many of us have gone to bed filled with sorrow over a recent death and have spent the night toiling over the parent we have lost. We wake, wishing the voice we heard is real and that the death itself has been as false as the fragments of the dreams that infiltrated our sleep. The closed door that Hall references symbolizes the hope we still cling to that our parent will walk through to greet us and be there for us as we continue our journey through life.
Reality hits as the “taste of stone” represents the stark veracity of death as it is engraved on a tombstone. However, we do not lose hope that the death has all been a dream. If we hear the voice again, we will be ready to put on our “coats and galoshes” and follow the gentle words we had clung to all our lives.
May 1st, 2009 at 7:56 pm
I found “Totally like whatever, you know” hilarious and truthful. The poem was realistic and i recognized some of Mali’s phrases in my own daughters daily vocabulary. It is sad to see the English language deteriorating so rapidly, reduced to a constant stream of internet or text messaging lingo like “lol”, “brb”, “ttyl”.
May 1st, 2009 at 9:14 pm
Posted by 11th grade student Chris Varnerin’s Mom:
“Totally like whatever, you know?” by Taylor Mali is a poem that articulates a societal problem of the deterioration of the English language. People judge us everyday on how we speak. Adapting inarticulate language “to be cool” is a reflection of one’s level of education and one’s social group. Unfortunately, in some societies the English language is almost indiscernible. Recognizing the problem is the beginning.
May 1st, 2009 at 9:16 pm
“Introduction to Poetry” by Billy Collins is trying to get the reader to get comfortable with poetry by just reading what is on the surface, instead of disecting it for an underlying meaning. To me, it is the author’s way of getting a new reader to enjoy poetry and provide a personal meaning to the poem without too much thought. You can always relate to the content in your own way. There doesn’t have to be one specific meaning.
May 1st, 2009 at 10:30 pm
“Eating Together” by Li-young Lee
Although the steamed trout recipe is missing soy sauce and black pepper, this poem truly depict a typical Chinese fish dish, how they eat it, and how the family eat together. When I read the poem, I had deja vu of eating lunch with my parents, brothers and sisters. Having lunch together without his father must have made the author very sad which he reflects well in his poem.
May 1st, 2009 at 10:34 pm
“Totally like whatever, you know?” by Taylor Mali
Taylor is focused, passionate, and bright, which is what makes his poem such a great read, whether you like what he has to say or not.
I especially like the last paragraph in this poem, where he implored readers to speak with conviction. In today’s world, we emphasize teamwork, politeness, and respecting other people’s personal space. As a result, we stop saying things that are truly on our mind. We are afraid to say things with conviction. We become cowards of our own design. The date we stop challenge paradigm, we stop moving forward, and we cannot let this happen. We need to speak out loud and clear and let our thoughts be heard.
May 1st, 2009 at 10:41 pm
“The Peace of Wild Things” by Wendell Berry, although short is a poem that I could relate to on a personal level. The author describes the daily challenges that parents face. The futures of our children make us worry and I too must sometimes sit down and rest to think things over. Berry describes his peaceful place as the wild and I also think that everyone has that one place in their home where they find inner peace.
May 1st, 2009 at 10:42 pm
Although it depicts how much the English language has deteriorated, I think “Totally like whatever, you know?” by Taylor Mali is obnoxious and and mocks how people speak. Mali completely exaggerates how the younger generation speaks to a point that it’s overboard.
May 1st, 2009 at 10:53 pm
“Totally like whatever, you know?” by Taylor Mali.
Taylor Mali is focused, passionate, and bright, which is what makes his poem such a great read, whether you like what he has to say or not.
In this poem, I especially like the last paragraph, where he implored reader to speak with conviction. In today’s world, we are taught to respect other people’s personal space, maintaining harmony, and refraining from hurting others’ feeling. As a result, we never say things that truly on our mind any more. We ‘dance’ on the subject. We do not challenge the authority. We become cowards of our own design. This is not right. The date we stop challenge paradigm, we stop moving forward. I agree with Taylor. We need to speak with conviction. We need to let our thoughts be heard loud and clear.
May 1st, 2009 at 11:02 pm
Alice walker’s poem “Be nobody’s darling” preaches the outcast, the thinking out of the box, the standing for one’s opinion, which are traits anyone should reach for. But in reality it’s not given to anyone and most people content themselves by blending into the crowd. I find an air of selfishness in this poem. I believe if one stands out it shows courage, and that ability should be used towards inspiration, influence and guidance for others, and not just for personal gain.
May 2nd, 2009 at 3:59 pm
Response to “Out, Out”
A beautiful, calm day with the serenity of summer in the country. The innocence of a child who should have been running free in the fields. Life is so fragile, especially a young life. One never knows when, in the blink of an eye, that life can be hurt or taken away. At first, I felt happiness and was able to picture such an uplifting scene until the horrible noise of the saw. The sound did not match the day. The day, like most days in life, is basically uneventful and nothing very unexpected happens. I, as most people get lulled into a safe feeling as life occurs normally. No one thinks to breathe a sigh of relief when the day is almost over and nothing unusual happens. In this poem this brother and sister were so close to doing this. What a horrible scene for a child to witness as well. The boy’s sister witnessed something so terrible that I feel as bad for her as I do for the boy. How do you ever forget a scene like that? How do you live with your brother begging you for something that you can’t give him? Were two lives destroyed in one instant? Then, I ask the question of the importance of one life to different people. The boys sister will have to live with this profound sadness that I and most people reading this poem felt. The doctors, however, will move on in their lives and practice medicine on scores of people. They have to move on and not feel emotion for the unfairness of losing a life. And then, what inevitably happens is that everyone goes back to life as normal. This poem touched me deeply and gave me food for thought.
Mrs. Stupay (Jason Stupay’s Mother)
May 2nd, 2009 at 11:49 pm
The Layers by Stanley Kunitz spoke to me because I have been through many obstacles in my life. He wrote “how shall the heart be reconciled to its feast of losses.” As a parent, I hope to instill in my daughters the strength and endurance to overcome their struggles. My eldest will be entering the “layer” of college this upcoming fall, and I know that she will face hard decisions. It is a scary thought knowing that once she leaves that the only thing I can do is hope that I have given her tools she needs to live on her own. Each experience in life is a layer and our children need to learn to become independent in order to get through these layers. And a parent, I need to get through the layer of trusting my girls and giving them some independence.
May 3rd, 2009 at 2:58 pm
“The Peace of Wild Things” speaks to the worry we have with everyday life and responsibilities, yet the peace we can find by relaxing and looking forward to hope for the future. This is meaningful with the stressful times we live within and the need to manage the stress so we can enjoy and live life to the fullest. We need to make the most of everyday!
May 3rd, 2009 at 6:50 pm
I enjoyed reading “in just” by e.e. cummings. It is an ostensibly simple poem about the joys of spring that has deeper, almost ominous feeling and wonderful imagery. I’m not sure I understand just who the “baloonman “is, but the description of him is such a contradiction from the lovely images of spring “mud-luscious” and “puddle –wonderful” and of carefree, playing children. He is “little lame” “queer old” and “goat-footed”. Maybe that’s just an allusion to life, full of contradictions and juxtapositions of beauty, innocence and the darker side…
May 3rd, 2009 at 7:35 pm
“Ars Poetica #100: I Believe”, a poem written by Elizabeth Alexander is a poem about poetry describing the essence of being human. Through the words of poetry, one can depict the range of human experience both good and bad and everything in between. The author suggests that poetry is everywhere because human experience is omnipresent.
May 4th, 2009 at 6:29 pm
Written by Swroop Sahota-(Harman’s mother)
Alice definitely has talent. I hope she continues to express her view of the world through poetry and share it with others. Every word made me think and reflect on the meaning of the words strung together. Be Nobodys Darling, be your own Darling….
May 4th, 2009 at 6:42 pm
I found myself thrown back into my whimsical chidhood days in Brooklyn,NY.,when I read “in just” by e.e. cummings. Oh,how I wished for one of those big balloons,but being one of four girls well, it just wasn’t possible. I do remember the hopskotch game painted bright ocre at the park playground and the intense hunt for the “just right ” stick that would guarantee I would win the game. Marbles were fun to play with but even better to collect! I still can recall the beautiful colors of the marbles we collected and the clear glass ball jars they sat in. There are so many wonderful memories that are coming to my mind ,and I realize that depending whether you are a city mouse or a country mouse you have your own account of Spring. I just feel especially blessed to have exprienced both!
May 6th, 2009 at 8:14 am
I disagree with what some people have said about ‘The Substitute’; the title doesn’t refer to the substitute teacher, but to the ‘girl/who had to be another girl, a substitute/of sorts/in it now for the duration”. I liked this poem, partly because it evokes the feelings of wanting to be someone different and of wanting to be noticed, which is what motivates the girl in the poem to put on new characters each day. I really like these lines: “Thus began the week my daughter learned/it takes more than style/to be successfully disobedient.” There’s a fine line between witty creativity and being obnoxious, and anyone who has ever spent time in a high school classroom can recognize that.
May 6th, 2009 at 6:59 pm
“Eating Together” and “Eating Alone” by Li – Young Lee
Following my review of the selections offered on the Student Parent Poetry blog, I selected the “companion” poems, “Eating Alone” and “Eating Together” for comment. These particular poems captured my attention and drew me in due to their universal theme and simplicity of message.
In “Eating Together”, Li – Young Lee uses food as a metaphor to show continuation of life and cultural connection. The focus on food, with no words of emotionality or regret, give the poem a reserved, stark, unimpassioned feeling not dissimilar to traits often associated with the Asian culture. In this poem, although the remaining family members are “together” following the father’s death, there is no indication of a significant bonding or evidence of a disruption of life. Rather, what is depicted is just a continuum of life with slight modification. Therefore, while all the family may be in one room sharing a meal and continuing their cultural legacy, they are alone with their sorrow. This lack of emotional connection can further be felt in the author’s comments regarding his father’s death. In the last line, “… and lonely for no one”, implies that his father is departing this earth without feelings of loss or incompleteness. Rather, he has completed his life on earth and is moving forward. Based on my interpretation of this first poem, I feel that “Eating Together” may have just as aptly been titled “Eating Alone”.
In the poem “Eating Alone”, it appears that years have gone by since the death of the author’s father and the author is now alone. As with the first poem, there is a cold and barren feeling to this latter piece as a result of phrases such as, “the ground is cold, brown, and old” and the “icy metal spigot”. While the author assumes duties his father had done and has memories of this man, he is now leading his own life and must be responsible for his existence. In both poems there is the universal theme that we enter this world alone, leave this world alone, and in the interim must assume responsibility for ourselves. While we may receive love from others, develop strong familial ties, and have fond memories, ultimately we only have ourselves.
May 6th, 2009 at 7:10 pm
Response to “The Layers” . Sometimes a poet writes a phrase that is so compelling and uplifting its hard to imagine any other way to express its intended meaning. ” Live in the Layers, not in the litter” is one of those lines. The poet, himself, is even quite unsure of its meaning, as he lacks the “art to decipher it”. Since it is directed to him from a “nimbus clouded voice”, perhaps his own mind, perhaps a spirit, or his own soul, it adds to its compexity. But one thing he’s certain of, its a tool to transform his hardship, challenges, and even worse – “wreckage”. And that instructional message, Live in the Layers not in the Litter, is his hope for a better tomorrow..
May 7th, 2009 at 9:41 pm
This is Shyamal, Radha Patel’s older brother, commenting on Alice Walker’s poem.
The author interestingly juxtapositions short, succinct sentences with distinct emotional undertones throughout each verse. She succeeds in conveying the importance she places on independent thought and action while simultaneously expressing a sense of despair, especially in the latter verses. Ultimately the reader may be left encouraged by Walker’s strong, stark words; however, this feeling does not negate the melancholic undertone of the piece but rather complements it, producing a unique combination of thoughts within the reader’s head.
A nice piece of work.
May 7th, 2009 at 10:34 pm
Yuck. Responding to a poem – on a blog so it’s permanent and everone can see you straining to be smart. Or at least – less like an idiot. Extra credit? Then here goes…
I have to admit “Be Nobody’s Darling” is a lovely piece of poetry but not one I can really hold on to. I have a problem when anyone tries to “exhort” me to do anything. I’m 46. I’ll be a darling or an outcast or whatever else I decide. (Will dissing Alice Walker reduce e.c. points? If so, I can easily change my opinion.)
Also – I completely agee with Aaron Winston’s dad that the balloon man in Cummings’ poem gives me that “stranger danger” feeling. Yikes. Although I love e.e. cummings (”anyone lived in a pretty how town” is a poem I had in my desk for a long time. ).
I guess I’ll admit here that I liked the 9th and 10th grades’ poems better. (Dang it, I’ll never get into AP English.) Especially Billy Collins’. His poems are wonderful and funny and I actually laugh every time I read the line “torture a confession out of it.” That’s one of those great moments when you read a line of poetry and say to yourself “That’s exactly it.”
May 8th, 2009 at 4:30 pm
“Introduction to Poetry” shows what the general public does
to poetry. They do not embrace it. They do not read poetry
for their own entertainment. Billy Collins says this in his poem.
He wants poetry readers to read poetry at the surface and not
go deep into the meaning and dissect every line.
However, despite his insistence of stopping at the surface and
acknowledging the author, he says that readers every day just
chain poems down in order to grasp the meaning of every line.
I agree with what Billy Collins is trying to say. I do not think it
is necessary to analyze poetry, but to instead appreciate it.
May 8th, 2009 at 9:53 pm
out out- robert frost
I found this poem to be an interesting delve into the human emotions of fear and shame. The boy’s fear of retribution and consequence brought into focus some of my own fears about revealing hidden truths in my own life. it is also interesting that the title of the poem can be interpreted two different ways: does the boy want the saw out of his hand or does he want to get out of the situation. it reminds me of macbeth when he learns of his wife’s death.
eating together & eating alone- li young lee
it’s interesting how the two poems juxtapose each other. The first poem describes the beauty of family togetherness and how meals bring joy. However, as the poem continues, there is a hint of sadness as the author reveals that the father is not present. It emphasizes how meals and family activities can accent loneliness if people are not around. The second poem delves deeper into the sadness of the passing of a family member. It describes a barren surrounding and the coldness. However, as the author reminesces, he realizes that he did not have a warm relationship with his father in actuality. He reveals that he wishes he could change the past. The point is, we should appreciate family and try to spend time with each other before there is regret.
the substitute
The title, in itself, has two different references within the poem, which provides depth to the piece from the beginning. Initially the reader expects the poem to be about a teacher, someone who is supposed to provide guidance and insight to children to who they really are as they are developing. Paradoxically, the main character in the poem is defying that and becoming the real “substitute” within herself. This is an over exaggerated reflection of what children, and more generally people, go through. Everyone at one point in their lives is uncomfortable in their own skin. She just needs to learn to be comfortable with herself.
mothers
This is a very touching poem that is dedicated to all mothers who are able to inspire their children.
May 8th, 2009 at 10:07 pm
out out
Out Out is a very interesting poem because of the many literary devices used. Robert Frost uses allusion in the title to Macbeth’s quote “out out brief candle” when he first finds out about Lady Macbeth’s death. More importantly, this poem is known for its imagery that it connotes. Through the use of onomatopoeia, auditory imagery is used in the words “snarled” and “rattled”. It connotes a loud vicious sound by the saw and personifies it as a vicious monster. Other imagery is used such as visual imagery when Robert Frost describes the sun setting in Vermont. The last sentence of the poem proves to be a most interesting line in Out Out. The workers seem to be only self interested because they continue to work even though their friend goes through a tragic death. However this is justified because they must continue to work for survival.
eating together+eating alone
Both the poems Eating Together and Eating Alone seem to be closely intertwined. Visual imagery is used in the first few lines where the reader imagines a family eating a complete meal together. A mood of happiness is created here but is then destroyed once the death of the father of the family is mentioned. Instead of a happy mood created by the family’s meal together, a mood of loneliness is created when the author describes his father’s lonely path. In the second poem, the death of the father is explained more deeply and its sad effects on the family. The author attempts to reminisce his relationship between his father and himself. He finds it difficult to remember those conversations and the activities that they did together. Because of this, he believes he is lonely without his father.
the substitute
The substitute is a poem of a young girl who attempts to make her class laugh by pretending she is English. However, her class becomes tired of her antics, and she becomes weary of learning about England to convince her substitute teacher of her new identity. She is now forced to live with her new identity. There is much organic imagery in this poem. The author says “she had a stomachache, her ears hurt, there were pains”. This imagery helps the reader understand her difficulty in keeping up with her new identity. Also, the other figurative language in this poem brings the story of the girl to life. “Bent over like a charwoman” gives the reader an image of how the girl looked at that time, and again displays how she was affected by her having to keep at her trick. Also, the story of the girl’s fake life gives the poem more meaning by going into detail about the girl’s comprehensive story of her “life in England.” Apart from making the girl’s story more believable to the substitute, it gives the poem more affect by explaining how the girl’s new identity became her life for that week, and why she would have been so exhausted of the whole trick by the end of the week.
mothers
Mothers is a very touch poem about the author’s appreciation for his mother. The poem starts out with the author flashbacking to the time when she was an infant. She describes the close and unique relationship that she had with her mother because of the emotions that the mother and the daughter shared . The vivid imagery explained in the flashback makes the poem both exciting and mysterious. The most influential part of the poem is the last two lines after the author recites the poem taught by her mother to her son. It brings back memories of both pleasure and pain to the author. She is able to remember and pass down her great experiences with her mother but at a cost of desiring them again.
May 14th, 2009 at 7:28 am
“The Substitute” made me think “busted”! The girl thought she was being quite clever by pretending to be something she’s not for the simple purpose of entertaining her peers but then the joke became on her. She had to keep up her charade for an entire week and learned that her classmates were no longer entertained and that she was actually exhausted in the end trying to be something she’s not. It goes to show it is so much easier to just be true to yourself.