POETRY RESPONSE
Ximena
English G
George Gray
By: Edgar Lee Masters
I have studied many times
The marble which was chiseled for me -A boat with a furled sail at rest in a harbor.
In truth it pictures not my destination
But my life.
For love was offered me and I shrank from its
disillusionment;
Sorrow knocked at my door, but I was afraid;
Ambition called to me, but I dreaded the chances.
Yet all the while I hungered for meaning in my life.
And now I know that we must lift the sail
And catch the winds of destiny
Wherever they drive the boat.
To put meaning in one's life may end in madness,
But life without meaning is the torture
Of restlessness and vague desire -It is a boat longing for the sea and yet afraid
Some people feel lost through their own lives. They are always thinking about the negative side
of stuff and let the one time opportunities fly away.
Not having clear or understood what the meaning of your life is isn’t the biggest issue. Instead
you have to keep up living your daily life; cause through experiences and knowledge is that you
find out the purpose of your existence and the goals you’re suppose to accomplish. As describe
in the poem fear has to be put aside, and you have to let go off you whenever and to any
destination the boat takes you.
This poem brings up the moments in my life were I have let opportunities pass away , because I
am afraid I am not going to succeed, and then I regret those precious moments and I wish I had
taken the chance. For example I had the chance on competing nationals in gymnastic but I just
quit because I thought I was going to fail. Nowadays I wonder were my career would be
standing.
The bride
By: Bella Akhmadulina
Oh to be a bride
Brilliant in my curls
Under the white canopy
Of a modest veil!
Soon my white gown
Is stained with wine like blood;
I feel both lucky and poor
As I sit, listening, at the table.
How my hands tremble,
Bound by my icy rings!
The glasses gather, brimming
White red compliments.
Terror and desire
Loom in the forward hours.
My mother, the darling, weepsMama is like the weather.
At last the word says yes;
It wishes me roses and sons.
My friends stand shyly at the door,
Carrying love gifts.
…My rich, royal attire
I lay aside on the bed.
I find I am afraid
To look at you, to kiss you.
Chemises in cellophane,
Plates, flowers, lace…
They kiss my cheeks, they marvel
I’m to be a wife.
Loudly the chairs are set
Against the wall, eternity…
My love, what more can happen
To you and to me?
Every woman, married at least once, has experienced the anxiety and fear
that flowed through veins on the day they were all dress up in white. Doubts
surely started to fill their minds, and they started thinking about the future
they’ll have with their husbands. Some may have felt afraid and maybe
wanted to step back. Others may have felt miserable for some inconvenient
that may have ruin the criteria of a perfect wedding. Marriage is a big step of
life, there is nothing wrong to be nervous when facing such a gigantic
remarkable episode which unifies completely two soul and bodies.
As i read this poem i felt like if i wen back to that day were sitting by my bed
my moether told me the story of the day she left her first boyfriend standinig
at the church altar, because as she watched herself at mirror with her long big
white dress she had seconds thoughts.
On aging
By: Maya Angelou
When you see me sitting quietly,
Like a sack left on the shelf,
Don’t think I need you chattering.
I’m listening to myself.
Hold! Stop! Don’t pity me!
Hold! Stop your sympathy!
Understanding if you got it,
Otherwise I’ll do with out it!
When my bones are stiff and aching
And my feet won’t climb the stair,
I will only ask one favor:
Don’t bring me no rocking chair.
When you see me walking, stumbling,
Don’t study and get it wrong.
Cause tired don’t mean lazy
And every goodbye ain’t gone.
I’m the same person I was back then,
A little less hair, a little less chin,
A lot less lungs and much less wind.
But ain’t I lucky I can still breathe in.
We are all going to get old and grouchy. Our relatives
are going to treat us like babies, and will try to do
everything to make our life easier. This poem can be
related to all grandparents that have bad temper, but at
the same time are grateful to still be on earth.
Even if you are old you should always think as yourself
strong and always looking at the positive side of things.
Is vital to always thank for what you have, also that you
might be healthier or happier than others.
My grandmother Libia can be a real pain since she is so
negative, and is always depressed and complaining. On
the other hand my grandfather Nestor, is so joyful he
seems 10 years younger. He is always smiling and
trying to get the best out of each moment. I hope when I
grow old I wont be such a heavy load to carry around
and that I irradiate happiness and harmony.
ORIGINAL POEMS
By: Ximena Duque
Left Me Aside
(my choice)
There’s no way you could know just how I feel
I’m devastated, empty, dead inside.
Static fly, no symphony that can heal
You strolled away, just pushing me aside.
I try to halt my tears but they burst out,
My heart is shattering when you are by
and while you idly stroll and walk about
when thinking of me you may heave a sigh
My once placated soul is tormented.
Your love, my pain, my disease and my curse
To hold you more, so again I’m tempted
but I bury my dark grief waiting hearse.
And now my heart is empty, barren and stark.
Sadly, to you I was only a lark.
The day she became a woman
Beautiful as a summer sunset over the savannah
With ruby lips that blossom from her face
And as you watched her speak
Her mahogany hair flowed in waves
Glowing her peach cream skin and emerald-green eyes
Like a fly all over the room up and down,
With owls eyes staring at the door
Behind her future is suspended on the air
TICK TOCK TICK TOCK
The clock rumble in her ears
Only two more minutes until it hits reality
Would it car crushed like
Or it would gently slide like a dry old leave in the fall
Her flamingo still body faces the wall
Her rattle snake hands lead the symphony
TICK TOCK TICK TOCK
Dances the clock
TICK TOCK TICK TOCK
BOOM, erupts the door
There it is, Mr. Pasty envelope the judge
She hops to it fiercely as a hyena
Tears it open with her teeth
Streams of ocean dripping down her
Turtle skin
Eyes grew dull and cloudy
And her castoff lips dry and swollen
Her hair like the fluff on a dandelion
Frail as fall leaves blowing in the October breeze,
Her back stooped over
She carries the BIG BLACK WORDS
“POSITIVE”
Dexter
(from another point of view)
Four walls, the floor is all
BLOOD
“It’s about vengeance, not retaliation”
“It’s about something deep inside”
There is this inner voice again
Buzzing inside my head
It urges my needs, it craves my pleasures
I brought my tools with me,
Rubber sheets are ready
Plastic tarp to leave no evidence
Black plastic trash bags to dispose my secrets
Black leather gloves to go on anonymous
Duct tape to imprison
And my knives and mini-saw to do the
Art
Fragile as his victims
Now laying on my table
Cut open
Cherry sauce dripping down the cheeks
Taste of Ecstasy
One more for my collection
Sarah gray
(inspired by another poem: Gorge Gray by Edgar Lee Masters)
I have meditated many times
The path of my life
Handcuff to my mother´s arm
Stepping on her feet
It’s all I acknowledge
That is my life
But I hope to conceive my destination.
Liberty was offered to me, but my wings
Were cut off as my mother disapproved
Second chances knocked at my door, but I was afraid
I would be reprimanded again
Ambition called to me, but I dreaded the chances
But still I was eager to discover the meaning of my life
I decided to find new wings
And set them free
And catch the wind of destiny
Free to rule my life
Free to step in my own feet
Free to make my own mistakes
And yet not afraid to be judge by my own mother
Bibliography
• Dunbar, Paul Laurence. “George Gray” Poetry
section, Literature Gold Thompson Eileen,
Prentice Hall, New Jersey, 1994. 552.
• Marcus, Leonard S. Lifelines. New York: Dutt
on Children, 1994. 27
• Marcus, Leonard S. Lifelines. New York: Dutt
on Children, 1994. 15