Reason why I did William Carlos Williams

         To the readers out there, most of you might think, "Why would I do poems based off of William Carlos Williams?"
         In contrast to what you most think its not because I want to slack of or be lazy, its because I want to get points through in the shortest amount of lines possible. That is what both "This Is Just To Say" and "The Red Wheelbarrow" do so well. Both of the poems straightforwardly deliver a point out to the reader in very few lines, which brings both effectiveness and efficiency to both the poem and the poet.
         Also, to be honest the poems that I've done to emulate "This Is Just To Say" and "The Red Wheelbarrow" did not take a short time at all. I had a lot of trouble figuring out a point to deliver and then fitting it in into so little lines.
         The length of a poem does not dictate its capabilities of carrying out a message, and I wanted to carry that point out. 

2 poems emulating "The Red WheelBarrow" (William Carlos Williams)

1.
My life depends
upon

The choices
made

throughout my
career

inside my
brain

2.
People depend 
upon

the works of
others

touched with their
labor

within this
country

2 poems emulating the works of William Carlos Williams (specifically "This Is Just To Say")

 1.
The oranges

from the tree

were so juicy

and sweet

If you

want some

I left a couple

on the dinner table 

  2.
I have taken

the calculator

inside the drawer

beside your bed

Please understand

I had an exam

so the calculator

was essential

My Ten Limericks

There was a young man from the West
Who dreamed of being the best
It just takes hard work
But he was a jerk
And now his whole life is a mess

I once bought a nice looking car
But man, it used way too much tar
It costed too much
And bad, was the clutch
So I traded it for a jar

Some people may say I am weird
I had to explain as I sneered,
"Its why I'm unique
And possibly chic"
All questions have now disappeared

There was a young person named Jim
That people kept bothering him
As he stood right up
And gave them a cut
He now has a friend who's named Tim

A talkative man from the East
Who spend his time talking to geese
To much of his shock
They started to talk
He now has a friend in those geese

There was a small goldfish that frowned
For reasons he was very down
He did not enjoy
Himself as a toy
So he gladly jumped to the ground

Some people just don't understand
That I am not a normal man
I have a bad feel
For things that aren't real
And I try to change but I can't

There is a hockey team called Habs
Whose goalie drove players so mad
Stopped shot after shot
To score, they will not
He's quite an amazing young lad

The Stanley Cup playoffs are great
It brings me together with mates
As we cheer the team
And players have dreams
That fuel them to go out and skate

I like to go on many hikes
Activities that many like
I've made many friends
To hikes we attend
A great trail can be "Northern Pike"

Analysis of "Acquainted with the Night" by Robert Frost

I have been one acquainted with the night.
I have walked out in rain --and back in rain.
I have outwalked the furthest city light.

I have looked down the saddest city lane.
I have passed by the watchman on his beat
And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.

I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet
When far away an interrupted cry
Came over houses from another street,

But not to call me back or say good-bye;
And further still at an unearthly height
One luminary clock against the sky

Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right.
I have been one acquainted with the night.

       The speaker in this poem have walked in the night many times. He has walked away and back from many places in the rain. He has walked through cities and "out-walked the furthest city light" which represents his walks outside the city. As he passes by a watchman during one of his walks, he makes no eye contact with the watchman, as he does not want to tell him why he is walking through the night. He has stopped and listened to a call from another street, falsely hoping that the call was for him. As he looked up at the "luminary clock", which represents the moon, he felt a feeling of dissatisfaction with the time it showed. 

       This poem describes a feeling of loneliness and introversion. It is clear that the speaker does not have the preference of socializing with other people, but he rather likes to go on his walks in the night. 

         In my early years of high school I always loved to meet new people. I would start a conversation with the person that sits beside me or the person who's locker is near mine. Honestly, it feels good given the fact that I have a basic understanding of my peers. However, later on in my life I realized not everyone has the preference to socialize, which prompted me to be more introverted. I still have the will to socialize with others, but I am now more introverted and I find more enjoyment in the time spent by myself. 

Analysis of "Chicago" by Carl Sandburg

     HOG Butcher for the World,
     Tool Maker, Stacker of Wheat,
     Player with Railroads and the Nation's Freight Handler;
     Stormy, husky, brawling,
     City of the Big Shoulders:

They tell me you are wicked and I believe them, for I
     have seen your painted women under the gas lamps
     luring the farm boys.
And they tell me you are crooked and I answer: Yes, it
     is true I have seen the gunman kill and go free to
     kill again.
And they tell me you are brutal and my reply is: On the
     faces of women and children I have seen the marks
     of wanton hunger.
And having answered so I turn once more to those who
     sneer at this my city, and I give them back the sneer
     and say to them:
Come and show me another city with lifted head singing
     so proud to be alive and coarse and strong and cunning.
Flinging magnetic curses amid the toil of piling job on
     job, here is a tall bold slugger set vivid against the
     little soft cities;

Fierce as a dog with tongue lapping for action, cunning
     as a savage pitted against the wilderness,
          Bareheaded,
          Shoveling,
          Wrecking,
          Planning,
          Building, breaking, rebuilding,
Under the smoke, dust all over his mouth, laughing with
     white teeth,
Under the terrible burden of destiny laughing as a young
     man laughs,
Laughing even as an ignorant fighter laughs who has
     never lost a battle,
Bragging and laughing that under his wrist is the pulse.
     and under his ribs the heart of the people,
               Laughing!
Laughing the stormy, husky, brawling laughter of
     Youth, half-naked, sweating, proud to be Hog
     Butcher, Tool Maker, Stacker of Wheat, Player with
     Railroads and Freight Handler to the Nation.

       This poem begins when the speaker calls Chicago several names, such as - "Hog Butcher", "Tool Maker" and "Stacker of Wheat". Chicago is personified by the speaker to be tough and burly. Then, the speaker talks about a mysterious "they" which tells the speaker that Chicago is "wicked", "crooked" and "brutal". Although these are negative comments about the city, the speaker does tend to agree with them, as he has seen murders, prostitutes and starving families. However the speaker responds to "they" and says Chicago is "so proud to be alive and coarse and strong and cunning." Despite all the dark places Chicago has, the speaker still finds beauty in this vibrant and lively city. The cycle of this city is described as "building, breaking and rebuilding". Chicago must be so happy after hearing all these compliments as it is said that Chicago feels "the heart of the people". 
        Personally, Chicago is one of my favourite cities in America and ranks #2 on my "Places I Want To Travel To" list. It fits my type of person where there are tall buildings, busy streets and bright city lights. I have only been there for a couple minutes because of my stop at the airport to transfer flights, but judging from descriptions of my friends, Chicago is a city much like New York (which is #1 on my list of places to travel to). After reading this poem, I gained the knowledge of accepting the dark corners of the city. Despite the fact that people kill each other in Chicago like it's a sport, I am very eager to go visit this city and hopefully watch a game of my favourite hockey team, the Chicago Blackhawks.   

Analysis of "Death, be not Proud" by John Donne

Death, be not proud, though some have called thee

Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;

For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow

Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.

From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be,

Much pleasure; then from thee much more must flow,

And soonest our best men with thee do go,

Rest of their bones, and soul's delivery.

Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,

And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,

And poppy or charms can make us sleep as well

And better than thy stroke; why swell'st thou then?

One short sleep past, we wake eternally

And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.

            In this poem, the speaker speaks of Death being the poser. Similar to the concept of a school playground bully, who turns out to be not so tough as he projected himself to be. The speaker even brings out the good in Death, as it leads to eternal Christianity. Throughout this poem, the speaker teases Death, as he says "poor death" which is a way to embarrass a so called "tough guy". In line 12, the speaker refers to the pride that people "swell", then asks Death "why swell'st thou then?". The purpose of this is to remind Death that he has no reason to be proud. The last line is what really stands out to me. First, there is death as its physical form (second word of the line), then there is the personified Death which the poems talks about, then "die" which refers to a metaphor for non-existence.

                All my life I've been mystified by the concept of death. What is death? What happens when one dies? As I had a lack of knowledge, I began to fear Death. However, after I have read this poem, my fear is lost and the feeling of freedom was given to me. As I no longer felt like a captive of Death and I was free to live my life to the fullest extent possible. This poem has brought knowledge and understanding to my concept of Death, without this knowledge my future will not be the same. 

               I no longer fear Death, as it is imminent to everyone. The event that happens after Death is still unknown, but as long as I live my life positively, the event shouldn't be negative. Perhaps this refers to the concept of Heaven and Hell, where if one does good deeds then Heaven awaits him but if one commits sins, then the descend to Hell will come. 

                  Death is portrayed many different ways. Although I do not believe in Heaven or Hell, I still think if I live my life positively, I will have a positive life after Death.  

Analysis of "The Tyger" by William Blake

Tyger! Tyger! burning bright 
In the forests of the night, 
What immortal hand or eye 
Could frame thy fearful symmetry? 
In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare sieze the fire?
And what shoulder, & what art.
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? & what dread feet?
What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?
When the stars threw down their spears,
And watered heaven with their tears,
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?
Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

         This poem expresses "The Tyger" as an aspect of fear. Fear comes from objects one has little knowledge of, which prompts the speaker to ask many questions to widen the understanding of the tiger. From the line "What immortal hand or eye", is it clear that the recipient of all these questions is God. The big question the speaker asks god is, would he be satisfied with creating this aspect of fear and possible devastation? This question leads to another thought of confusion to the speaker, which is the confusion of the religion. As the speaker asks, "Did he smile his work to see?", he questions the religion if it is satisfied or even happy with creating the tiger. As confusion grows, fear does as well and unless the questions are soon answered, the fear will stay with one for quite some time.
         Personally, I fear what I don't understand because of my hatred to possess the aspect of failure. This poem is very relatable to my life, and I find myself very similar to the speaker, as we both ask many questions when faced with something we do not understand. The downside to this is my lack of will to step out of my comfort zone, which will affect me in my future life. As I grow older, I will have to learn to step out of this zone and try new things and hopefully more people can respect me for the accomplishments I make. As a wise man once said, "Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, and hate leads to suffering" (quoted from Yoda in Star Wars: Episode I).

Analysis of "Bright Star" by John Keats

Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art--
Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night
And watching, with eternal lids apart,
Like nature's patient, sleepless Eremite,
The moving waters at their priestlike task
Of pure ablution round earth's human shores,
Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask
Of snow upon the mountains and the moors--
No--yet still stedfast, still unchangeable,
Pillow'd upon my fair love's ripening breast,
To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,
Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,
Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,
And so live ever--or else swoon to death.

       In this poem, the speaker is talking to a star. I know, it sounds really weird but in poetry you can basically get away with many things. This poem talks about eternity and refers to the north star, because the north star never moves and remains in the same place forever. The reason why the star is so important to the speaker is because of its everlasting position and shine. Later on in the poem, it is clear that the speaker does not want just any old eternity; especially not the eternity that a north star has (floating in the sky above the north pole), but he wants to spend an eternity pressing his head against his girlfriend's chest and spending an eternity with her. It says that if he can't have that, he will live another eternity: the eternity of death.
        I think this poem is naive to a certain extent. I respect the fact that he wants some things to last forever, but realistically speaking nothing lasts forever. There are many things that last for a long time, but for something to last forever would be impossible. I also feel cautious for the speaker, if he is so in love with his girlfriend, I wonder if his girlfriend would take advantage of that and use him as a tool. Although love has no boundaries, if someone loves someone very much, and the individual does not love him/her as much, then bad things can occur in the relationship.
        Wanting something to last forever is fine, but one has to be careful on what one wants to last forever. Some choices may give great fortune, but some may bring eternal suffering. It all comes down to make the right choice.
     

Analysis of "How Do I Love Thee?" by Elizabeth Berett Browning

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of everyday's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with a passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints, --- I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life! --- and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.

        I have always been confused about love. Honestly, I don't really know what love is and how many different ways love can be shown. Of course, common belief suggest that love is when one person shows care and affection towards another, but many people speak of the different levels of love. They speak of what one does to show a specific level of love towards another and the responses from the receiving individual. However this poem speaks of a love that is at its absolute deepest degree, where the love lasts through all the "Smiles and tears" of each individual's life. Even death does not break this feeling of love for each other, which makes me think, "Is this the deepest love one can ever have?" 
        Although I lack knowledge in the field of love, I can still say that I do love a fair number of people, which most of them are part of my family. I would like so mention a couple close friends but there seems to be another problem. Is friendship considered love? If love is defined by having a feeling of affection towards, then are not friends being affectionate towards each other? I would believe so. Therefore, on the list of people I love, I would have my close friends on there too.
        This poem has brought knowledge and understanding to my mind. Realizing deep love does not only exist between couples gives me a huge boost when I'm with my friends. Also, next time when I get friend-zoned, I won't have to worry about the individual not loving me back, because of the love associated with friendship. I never thought reading a poem can completely change my point of view on a certain concept, but this sonnet proved otherwise. 
      

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.

- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15384#sthash.Jh2rKBrN.dpuf

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.

- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15384#sthash.Jh2rKBrN.dpuf

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.

- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15384#sthash.Jh2rKBrN.dpuf

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.

- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15384#sthash.Jh2rKBrN.dpuf

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.

- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15384#sthash.Jh2rKBrN.dpuf

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.

- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15384#sthash.Jh2rKBrN.dpuf

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.

- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15384#sthash.Jh2rKBrN.dpuf

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.

- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15384#sthash.Jh2rKBrN.dpufvvvvv

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.

- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15384#sthash.Jh2rKBrN.dpufvvvvv

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.

- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15384#sthash.Jh2rKBrN.dpuf

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.

- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15384#sthash.Jh2rKBrN.dpuf

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.

- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15384#sthash.Jh2rKBrN.dpuf

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.

- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15384#sthash.Jh2rKBrN.dpufHow do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of everyday's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with a passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints, --- I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life! --- and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.

- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15384#sthash.Jh2rKBrN.dpuf

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.

- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15384#sthash.Jh2rKBrN.dpuf

Analysis of "The Cloud" by Percy Bysshe Shelley

   I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers,

         From the seas and the streams;

I bear light shade for the leaves when laid

         In their noonday dreams.

From my wings are shaken the dews that waken

         The sweet buds every one,

When rocked to rest on their mother's breast,

         As she dances about the sun.

I wield the flail of the lashing hail,

         And whiten the green plains under,

And then again I dissolve it in rain,

         And laugh as I pass in thunder.

   I sift the snow on the mountains below,

         And their great pines groan aghast;

And all the night 'tis my pillow white,

         While I sleep in the arms of the blast.

Sublime on the towers of my skiey bowers,

         Lightning my pilot sits;

In a cavern under is fettered the thunder,

         It struggles and howls at fits;

Over earth and ocean, with gentle motion,

         This pilot is guiding me,

Lured by the love of the genii that move

         In the depths of the purple sea;

Over the rills, and the crags, and the hills,

         Over the lakes and the plains,

Wherever he dream, under mountain or stream,

         The Spirit he loves remains;

And I all the while bask in Heaven's blue smile,

         Whilst he is dissolving in rains.

   The sanguine Sunrise, with his meteor eyes,

         And his burning plumes outspread,

Leaps on the back of my sailing rack,

         When the morning star shines dead;

As on the jag of a mountain crag,

         Which an earthquake rocks and swings,

An eagle alit one moment may sit

         In the light of its golden wings.

And when Sunset may breathe, from the lit sea beneath,

         Its ardours of rest and of love,

And the crimson pall of eve may fall

         From the depth of Heaven above,

With wings folded I rest, on mine aëry nest,

         As still as a brooding dove.

   That orbèd maiden with white fire laden,

         Whom mortals call the Moon,

Glides glimmering o'er my fleece-like floor,

         By the midnight breezes strewn;

And wherever the beat of her unseen feet,

         Which only the angels hear,

May have broken the woof of my tent's thin roof,

         The stars peep behind her and peer;

And I laugh to see them whirl and flee,

         Like a swarm of golden bees,

When I widen the rent in my wind-built tent,

         Till calm the rivers, lakes, and seas,

Like strips of the sky fallen through me on high,

         Are each paved with the moon and these.

   I bind the Sun's throne with a burning zone,

         And the Moon's with a girdle of pearl;

The volcanoes are dim, and the stars reel and swim,

         When the whirlwinds my banner unfurl.

From cape to cape, with a bridge-like shape,

         Over a torrent sea,

Sunbeam-proof, I hang like a roof,

         The mountains its columns be.

The triumphal arch through which I march

         With hurricane, fire, and snow,

When the Powers of the air are chained to my chair,

         Is the million-coloured bow;

The sphere-fire above its soft colours wove,

         While the moist Earth was laughing below.

   I am the daughter of Earth and Water,

         And the nursling of the Sky;

I pass through the pores of the ocean and shores;

         I change, but I cannot die.

For after the rain when with never a stain

         The pavilion of Heaven is bare,

And the winds and sunbeams with their convex gleams

         Build up the blue dome of air,

I silently laugh at my own cenotaph,

         And out of the caverns of rain,

Like a child from the womb, like a ghost from the tomb,

         I arise and unbuild it again. 

 

 

         What I really enjoy about this poem is how it takes an object that is barely noticed, and brings out the inner beauty of its contributions. Clouds are often viewed as everyday objects. They come and they go as the days pass. However, looking into the perspective of the cloud, it seems that everyday objects can accomplish many positive tasks for our world without notice. 

          This poem really expresses the beauty in nature and really makes me want to go out and enjoy it. As a person who spends quite a bit outdoors, I think its safe to say that nature is awesome. However, I only viewed that from my perspective. So this poem really gives me a new point of view on the Earth and it gives me something I can think about while going on my camps and hikes. Perhaps I can also give this point of view to others, so they can share the thoughts and opinions with myself.

           Although this poem talks about a cloud, and how it does so many positive things to the world without grabbing the attention of people, this concept does not only apply to a cloud. There are many objects and even people that do positive things for others without any notice. Of course with objects, saying "Thank you" might not be possible, but maybe if we take time to appreciate the peoples' contributions, they would do their job even better, given the fact that they know someone appreciates what they do. A little appreciation goes a long way to make the world a better place. Positive things will always remain in our minds, just like what the poems says about the cloud, "I change, but I cannot die".

Analysis of "Ozymandias" by Percy Bysshe Shelley

I met a traveller from an antique land

Who said: "Two vast and trunkless legs of stone

Stand in the desert. Near them on the sand,

Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown

And wrinkled lip and sneer of cold command

Tell that its sculptor well those passions read

Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,

The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed.

And on the pedestal these words appear:

`My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings:

Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!'

Nothing beside remains. Round the decay

Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,

The lone and level sands stretch far away"

 

I believe the message of this poem is that no matter how powerful one gets, there will be a day where all the hunger for power and recognition that one once had, expires. As stated in the poem, Ozymandias was the “King of Kings” which emphasises his power and ability to rule over others, but as the traveller sees his broken statue, it seems that the power of Ozymandias has been corrupted and overthrown by his own greed.

            This poem tries to describe Ozymandias as a ruler always hungry for power, as he receives more power, he becomes hungrier. He thought that he would become so powerful that everyone would remember him forever for the strength and power that he possessed. Little he knew that his hunger for power was the main cause of the downfall to his reign of rule. I suspect the cause of his downfall was that he was baited by someone who wanted the title of “King of Kings”. Ozymandias would be persuaded that he would receive more power from one’s advice then ultimately, that advice leads to his downfall.

As Ozymandias is slowly forgotten by people in the modern age, the words on the pedestal (“My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings”) seems like a desperate attempt from Ozymandias himself to not be forgotten. However as time goes by and rulers come and go, the memory of Ozymandias will someday vanish completely, leaving all the power he had behind.

Although the new ruler has successfully overthrown Ozymandias, he will almost definitely become hungry for power as well, which will corrupt him and eventually, lead to his downfall. Its a never ending cycle for rulers, but those who can prevent corruption, arrogance and greed are those who truly deserve to dictate and lead and it is those rulers who will be recognized forever. . 

Analysis of "The World Is Too Much With Us" by William Wordsworth

The world is too much with us; late and soon,

Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;—

Little we see in Nature that is ours;

We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!

This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon;

The winds that will be howling at all hours,

And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers;

For this, for everything, we are out of tune;

It moves us not. Great God! I’d rather be

A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn;

So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,

Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;

Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;

Or hear old Triton blow his wreathèd horn.

      
          As I read this poem, the thing that stood out so much to me is how realistic and relatable this poem is to modern society. As technology and industrialization makes its way to the top of the world, many people grow so desperate for power that the beauty of this world is no longer noticed.

          This poem angrily expresses the fact that the modern age has made people lose connection to nature and the real world. Referring to the lines, "Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers; Little we see in Nature that is ours, it says that money has corrupted the minds of people to the point that the appreciation for the world does not cross their minds anymore.
          As a computer programmer, I have a great amount of respect for modern technology. It brings us happiness, help, knowledge and that little world that everyone has that they dream to be a part of. However, I also feel it is very important to take time out of my busy schedule to remind myself that it is a duty to show my appreciation for the world. I enjoy going hiking and camping and during those activities is where my full appreciation for nature gets exposed. Although I show my appreciation for the world regularly, the fact that some people put money over this still annoys me. Money is important, but does one really need to go as far as breaking moral ethics just to get some cash? Last time I checked, moral ethics come before just about everything. Maybe people are so desperate for cash and power nowadays that they just forget the basic ethics as a human being.
           I hope you, as the reader, understands the importance of the appreciation for the world and as a matter of fact, does appreciate the world for how it is. I hope you guys have enjoyed my insights on this poem and I'll catch you guys later!

Analysis of "Sound Of Silence" by Simon and Garfunkel

Hello darkness, my old friend,
I've come to talk with you again,
Because a vision softly creeping,
Left its seeds while I was sleeping,
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence.

In restless dreams I walk alone
Narrow streets of cobblestone,
'Neath the halo of a street lamp,
I turned my collar to the cold and damp
When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light
That split the night
And touched the sound of silence.

And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people, maybe more.
People talking without speaking,
People hearing without listening,
People writing songs that voices never share
And no one dared
Disturb the sound of silence.

"Fools" said I,"You do not know
Silence like a cancer grows.
Hear my words that I might teach you,
Take my arms that I might reach you."
But my words like silent raindrops fell,
And echoed
In the wells of silence

And the people bowed and prayed 
To the neon god they made.
And the sign flashed out its warning,
In the words that it was forming.
And the signs said, 'The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls
And tenement halls.
And whisper'd in the sounds of silence.
________________________________________________________________________

      This song has been one of my favourites since I first heard it when I was 10 and it's lyrics are very clever and poetic. I am also very amazed how the artist can write all these words into a song and make them all fit with each other. These lyrics uses the imagery of black and white to show how the apathy and ignorance in man's views destroys their ability to communicate even on the basic levels.

       I will start with the first verse. This verse is all about the artist waking up and realizing that everyone in society chooses to remain silent because of their arrogance. An apostrophe is used when he addresses darkness and the artist says, using personification, that he had a vision in a dream which gave him a concept of people being arrogant.

        The second verse is an attempt to visualize his concept within his dreams. As he walks through "narrow streets of cobblestone" he visualizes the solution to the problems people have in life and he visions that the people around him will not listen and will continue their arrogant ways ("'Neath the halo of a street lamp, I turned my collar to the cold and damp"). As he wakes up to the "commercial" and superficial ways of communicating ("when my eyes were stabbed by the flash of the neon light"), he realizes that the problem he visions in his dreams are real.

        The third verse is where the song really shines. This verse is where the artist goes out and experiences the reality of his visions. He sees that people are so in to their own views on life that they don't give their heart to understand the views of others ("talking without speaking" and  "hearing without listening"). Then he sees that some people "write songs that voices never share" as in  they try to share their problems but no one bothers to help because they are so focused on their own view. Finally, he finds out that people are so afraid to step out of their comfort zone and scared of the judgement of others on the views of oneself that "no one dared disturb the sound of silence". 

        The offering of a solution is what comes in the fourth verse. He tries to wake everyone up, and he tries to tell everyone to step out of the comfort zone and support each other rather than staying silent ("fools" said I, "you do not know silence like a cancer grows"". Then, he offers help to the people ("hear my words that I might teach you, take my arms that I might reach you"), however in the end the people he tries to help thought he was idiotic and insane.

        Finally, the last verse talks about the people using religion as a place to blame their problems on and to provide an false understanding of each other ("the people bowed and prayed to the neon god they made"). Only then do they find out that the solution to all their problems could've been easily accomplished ("the word of the prophets are written on the subway walls"). Finally, on the last line, the silence is broken ("whispered in the sound of silence") and people start to wake up and realize that understanding each other with their hearts is the ideal way to solve each other's problems.  

      The theme of this song speaks of the inability of men communicating with each other. Where everyone is so arrogant of their own views that they don't dare to share or "disturb the sound of silence" because of the fear of judgement and comfort. The artist tries to offer help, but many think he's idiotic and insane until they find out from "the neon god they made" where "the sign flashed out its warning" that the solution was really right in front of them all along. So in the end, the sound of silence was broken with one whisper. 

       

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Hi everyone, just testing out the postings on the blog. Have a great day....or night!

--Derek Ip