Eagerly I walked into
the marsh
In the time of the liliaceace,
Till moistness like in a swedish sauna
Radiated, surpressed me. I was stuck
petrified and disoriented
by charm that is her own leper.
Now I depart the final strait
Shamefully, in a corner, without an ally
As any peering Sioux to Saskastchewan.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Monday, May 2, 2011
Mondern day language of "Moving Back" from Out of Africa (1944)
We headed back one mo’ gain
To the mud and the rain
Where the choppas sound off (oxymoron)
And the rocks bleed out
To the mud and the rain
Where the choppas sound off (oxymoron)
And the rocks bleed out
We are leaving the cold A/C
Once more we are called out
Back to the hood
Its just understood
We headed back one mo’gain
To where our homies got merked
To the rain soaked gutters
We don’t nut up
We creepin quiet: but stare only
(Gut squeezes, a minutes hesitation)
“Who will get got dis time by the boys in blue (metonomy)
And for what crime?”
Poem turned song. "Maxwell's Silver Hammer"
Joan was quizzical, studied metaphysicalScience in the homeLate nights all alone with a test-tubeOhh-oh-oh-oh...Maxwell Edison majoring in medicineCalls her on the phone"Can I take you out to the picturesJoa-oa-oa-oan?"But as she's getting ready to goA knock comes on the door...Bang, bang, Maxwell's silver hammerCame down upon her headBang, bang, Maxwell's silver hammerMade sure that she was deadBack in school again Maxwell plays the fool againTeacher gets annoyedWishing to avoid an unpleasant sce-e-e-eneShe tells Max to stay when the class has gone awaySo he waits behindWriting 50 times "I must not be so-o-o-oo..."But when she turns her back on the boyHe creeps up from behindBang, bang, Maxwell's silver hammerCame down upon her headBang, bang, Maxwell's silver hammerMade sure that she was deadB.C. Thirty-One said "we caught a dirty one"Maxwell stands alonePainting testimonial pictures ohh-oh-oh-ohRose and Valerie screaming from the gallerySay he must go free (Maxwell must go free)The judge does not agree and he tells them so-o-o-ooBut as the words are leaving his lipsA noise comes from behindBang, bang, Maxwell's silver hammerCame down upon his headBang, Bang, Maxwell's silver hammerMade sure that he was dead
Paul McCartney Bio
Paul McCartney is a British singer and song writer, he has also been known to experiment in other forms of art such as painting and poetry. McCartney was born on June 18, 1942 in Liverpool, England. He grew up there with his father, James McCartney, mother, Mary McCartney, and his younger brother and sister.
When Paul McCartney was a child, his mother, Mary McCartney, would read him poems and sparked the young rock star’s interest in poetry and writing. McCartney was also fond of crossword puzzles which increased his vocabulary significantly. Unfortunately however, when McCartney was only fourteen years old, his mother had passed away due to breast cancer back in October of 1956.
Paul McCartney met the young John Lennon in 1957. The duo banded together to form a band which eventually became known as the Beatles. About a year later, Lennon’s mother was hit by a police car which resulted in her death. McCartney was able to relate to dealing with the death of a mother which only brought the boys closer together.
Both Paul McCartney and John Lennon were the main songwriters for the Beatles. Paul McCartney had touched poetry a little bit which led to the creation of a few songs recorded by the group. The song “Maxwell’s Silver Hammer” was originally a poem created out of humor by McCartney. As far as actual songwriting goes, McCartney was the writer for the more “hardcore” sounding songs recorded by the Beatles. The Beatles eventually broke up in 1970, and Paul McCartney chose to pursue a solo career where he released two albums, one that year and another the following year. It was also during the 1970’s where Paul McCartney had been inspired to also become a painter.
McCartney married a woman by the name of Linda Eastman. She was an American photographer and also musician. Tragically, the former wife of Paul McCartney died of cancer in 1998. Just one year after McCartney was knighted by Queen Elizabeth II for his “services to music.”
As respected as McCartney is, he also has lived with his own vices. McCartney was introduced to Marijuana along with the other Beatles by fellow rock star Bob Dylan. Marijuana related criteria became more prevalent in the lyrics of the Beatles. The consumption of cannabis became regular to McCartney. McCartney has been arrested on multiple occasions due to possession.
Following the murder of John Lennon back in 1980, news media had asked McCartney his feelings about the incident to which he replied that it was a “drag.” McCartney was highly criticized for his seemingly dry response over the death of his friend and former band mate. Paul McCartney stated that he meant every melancholic sound of his statement. However, when McCartney was quoted in print, his words seemed much less caring than actually intended.
Despite the loss of close friends and family, McCartney’s music career as a singer as well as a songwriter, is still highly respected. McCartney is arguably one of the most commercially successful music artists of all time.
When Paul McCartney was a child, his mother, Mary McCartney, would read him poems and sparked the young rock star’s interest in poetry and writing. McCartney was also fond of crossword puzzles which increased his vocabulary significantly. Unfortunately however, when McCartney was only fourteen years old, his mother had passed away due to breast cancer back in October of 1956.
Paul McCartney met the young John Lennon in 1957. The duo banded together to form a band which eventually became known as the Beatles. About a year later, Lennon’s mother was hit by a police car which resulted in her death. McCartney was able to relate to dealing with the death of a mother which only brought the boys closer together.
Both Paul McCartney and John Lennon were the main songwriters for the Beatles. Paul McCartney had touched poetry a little bit which led to the creation of a few songs recorded by the group. The song “Maxwell’s Silver Hammer” was originally a poem created out of humor by McCartney. As far as actual songwriting goes, McCartney was the writer for the more “hardcore” sounding songs recorded by the Beatles. The Beatles eventually broke up in 1970, and Paul McCartney chose to pursue a solo career where he released two albums, one that year and another the following year. It was also during the 1970’s where Paul McCartney had been inspired to also become a painter.
McCartney married a woman by the name of Linda Eastman. She was an American photographer and also musician. Tragically, the former wife of Paul McCartney died of cancer in 1998. Just one year after McCartney was knighted by Queen Elizabeth II for his “services to music.”
As respected as McCartney is, he also has lived with his own vices. McCartney was introduced to Marijuana along with the other Beatles by fellow rock star Bob Dylan. Marijuana related criteria became more prevalent in the lyrics of the Beatles. The consumption of cannabis became regular to McCartney. McCartney has been arrested on multiple occasions due to possession.
Following the murder of John Lennon back in 1980, news media had asked McCartney his feelings about the incident to which he replied that it was a “drag.” McCartney was highly criticized for his seemingly dry response over the death of his friend and former band mate. Paul McCartney stated that he meant every melancholic sound of his statement. However, when McCartney was quoted in print, his words seemed much less caring than actually intended.
Despite the loss of close friends and family, McCartney’s music career as a singer as well as a songwriter, is still highly respected. McCartney is arguably one of the most commercially successful music artists of all time.
Poetic response: The charge of the light brigade
1.5 miles, 1.5 miles,1.5 miles, keep on truckin,they all rode into Death Valley,"Forward, the Light Brigade!"Aim for the guns!" he said:Into the valley of DeathRode the six hundred soldiers.
"Forward, the Light Brigade!"Was there a man dismayed? the soldier didn’t knowSomeone messed up:There’s no reason to complain,There’s no reason to question,There’s only a reason to die.Into the valley of DeathRode the six hundred soldiers.
Cannons to their right,Cannons to their left,Cannons in front of themThe cannons Volleyed and thundered;The shots and shells stormed,they rode boldly,Into the jaws of Death,Into the mouth of HellRode the six hundred.
They pulled out their gats,They brandished their concealed weapons,They prepared to bust a cap,Charging an army, whileEveryone was confused:They air was filled with smokeRight through the line they broke;Cossack and Russiankilled by another violent crimeWith their heads busted.Then they rode back, but notNot the six hundred.
Cannons to their right,Cannons to their left,Cannons in front of themThe cannons Volleyed and thundered;The shots and shells stormed,All the soldiers died,They that had shot so wellCame through the jaws of DeathBack from the mouth of Hell,All that was left of them,Left of six hundred.
Can they be forgotten? Oh what a stupid thing they diderrbody was confused af.Lets not forget the folk who died, even though they did something stupid, honor the six hundred.
"Forward, the Light Brigade!"Was there a man dismayed? the soldier didn’t knowSomeone messed up:There’s no reason to complain,There’s no reason to question,There’s only a reason to die.Into the valley of DeathRode the six hundred soldiers.
Cannons to their right,Cannons to their left,Cannons in front of themThe cannons Volleyed and thundered;The shots and shells stormed,they rode boldly,Into the jaws of Death,Into the mouth of HellRode the six hundred.
They pulled out their gats,They brandished their concealed weapons,They prepared to bust a cap,Charging an army, whileEveryone was confused:They air was filled with smokeRight through the line they broke;Cossack and Russiankilled by another violent crimeWith their heads busted.Then they rode back, but notNot the six hundred.
Cannons to their right,Cannons to their left,Cannons in front of themThe cannons Volleyed and thundered;The shots and shells stormed,All the soldiers died,They that had shot so wellCame through the jaws of DeathBack from the mouth of Hell,All that was left of them,Left of six hundred.
Can they be forgotten? Oh what a stupid thing they diderrbody was confused af.Lets not forget the folk who died, even though they did something stupid, honor the six hundred.
Poetic Analysis of "Daffodils" by William Wordsworth
Daffodils by William Wordsworth
This poem exemplifies Wordsworth’s writing style quite well. Wordsworth’s poems often consist of him recounting his memories of nature, in this case a field of daffodils. He beautifully describes the daffodils and compares them to other parts of nature. He tells of how his memory of them can bring him joy even when he is alone and away from nature.
Poetic Devices
(Personification)
(Simile)
(End Rhyme)
(Imagery)
(Hyperbole)
(Alliteration)
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced, but they
Out-did the sparkling leaves in glee;
A poet could not be but gay,
In such a jocund company!
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.
This poem exemplifies Wordsworth’s writing style quite well. Wordsworth’s poems often consist of him recounting his memories of nature, in this case a field of daffodils. He beautifully describes the daffodils and compares them to other parts of nature. He tells of how his memory of them can bring him joy even when he is alone and away from nature.
Poetic Devices
(Personification)
(Simile)
(End Rhyme)
(Imagery)
(Hyperbole)
(Alliteration)
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced, but they
Out-did the sparkling leaves in glee;
A poet could not be but gay,
In such a jocund company!
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.
The Life of James Joyce - Claire Dennis
For James Joyce, writing was a constant struggle. His works were censored, banned and even burned. Before he was 40 years old, he had undergone 10 eye operations and was nearly blind. He lived in dire poverty for the majority of his life. And even with these terrific odds against him, Joyce prevailed and went on to write some of the strangest and most extraordinary works in the history of British poetry.
James Joyce was born in 1882 in Rathgar, a suburb of Dublin, Ireland. His father, John, had run down his distillery business, and continued to try a variety of professions, including politics and tax collecting. His mother, Mary Jane, was a devout Catholic woman who played the piano and worked to hide the family’s poverty, maintaining a solid middle-class façade. James grew up attending Jesuit schools in Dublin, and attended the University College, Dublin. After his graduation in 1902, he fled from his dissatisfaction with the dirty, boring city, packed his bags, left his family behind and began his exploration of the world.
In his middle years, Joyce studied medicine, almost became a professional singer, taught languages in Trieste and Switzerland, and finally settled in Paris to focus on literature. However, James’ plans changed when his mother died in 1904, and, after the onset of World War I, he moved with his family to Zurich, Switzerland, where he began developing the characters of his novel Ulysses. After a few years with his family, James moved back again to Paris, and in 1922, his novel Ulysses was published. Soon after, James began experiencing chronic eye troubles caused by glaucoma, and still lived in great poverty. However, Joyce continued his passion for writing and published his novels, Dubliners and A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, a play called Exilesin and a collection of poems called Chamber Music.
In these works, James is noted for his experimentation in diction and use of language. What he wrote seemed far advanced for the literature of his time period. He invented words, used puns and alluded to mythology, history and literature in his writing. Often his works included an extensive interior monologue, which was technically innovative for that time.
In 1931, James married a chambermaid named Nora Barnacle, and dedicated the rest of his life to his writing. He never had kids and he never achieved fame or financial fortune during his lifetime. In 1941, just before his fifty-ninth birthday, James died of blindness, illness and poverty in Zurich, Switzerland after the fall of France in World War II.
Although he was confronted with constant adversity throughout his life and was never satisfied with his works, James’ reputation has grown immensely since his death, and today his literature is studied across the world.
James Joyce was born in 1882 in Rathgar, a suburb of Dublin, Ireland. His father, John, had run down his distillery business, and continued to try a variety of professions, including politics and tax collecting. His mother, Mary Jane, was a devout Catholic woman who played the piano and worked to hide the family’s poverty, maintaining a solid middle-class façade. James grew up attending Jesuit schools in Dublin, and attended the University College, Dublin. After his graduation in 1902, he fled from his dissatisfaction with the dirty, boring city, packed his bags, left his family behind and began his exploration of the world.
In his middle years, Joyce studied medicine, almost became a professional singer, taught languages in Trieste and Switzerland, and finally settled in Paris to focus on literature. However, James’ plans changed when his mother died in 1904, and, after the onset of World War I, he moved with his family to Zurich, Switzerland, where he began developing the characters of his novel Ulysses. After a few years with his family, James moved back again to Paris, and in 1922, his novel Ulysses was published. Soon after, James began experiencing chronic eye troubles caused by glaucoma, and still lived in great poverty. However, Joyce continued his passion for writing and published his novels, Dubliners and A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, a play called Exilesin and a collection of poems called Chamber Music.
In these works, James is noted for his experimentation in diction and use of language. What he wrote seemed far advanced for the literature of his time period. He invented words, used puns and alluded to mythology, history and literature in his writing. Often his works included an extensive interior monologue, which was technically innovative for that time.
In 1931, James married a chambermaid named Nora Barnacle, and dedicated the rest of his life to his writing. He never had kids and he never achieved fame or financial fortune during his lifetime. In 1941, just before his fifty-ninth birthday, James died of blindness, illness and poverty in Zurich, Switzerland after the fall of France in World War II.
Although he was confronted with constant adversity throughout his life and was never satisfied with his works, James’ reputation has grown immensely since his death, and today his literature is studied across the world.
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