Category Archives: Poetry 201

Poetry 201 Assignment 8: Drawer, Ode and Apostrophe

 

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I am running a bit late but here is my assignment 8. Today I needed to write about a drawer in my house as if it were speaking to me. I needed to include apostrophes which, as I understand, are expressions and exclamations which can allude to a range of emotions. So after much thought I gave it a try and here is my latest poetic creation from the heart of my memories and my silly imagination. I hope you enjoy reading this and perhaps you will to go find your very own memory drawer.

Ode to a Drawer of Memories

As I pondered what to write about and which drawer should I peek in and see,

My eyes became glued to a certain small dresser that seemed to speak and beckon me:

“I am the most interesting drawer you’ll find for deep inside I keep many memories.

And they are not just your memories as you will soon see

That you will discover and find hiding inside of me.

Come, be brave and take a look now; Come and you shall see.”

So I wandered over while knocking over a pile of books

And yes I dared to even chance to indulge a hesitant look.

The first find was my baby book kept inside of a fading pink box

And inside it were cards, photos and many notes written by mom.

“Look on this page! You were born at 6:55 pm

And your mother thought you were such a precious gem.

Here it says you only weighed four pounds;

You may have been little but you sure could make a loud sound.”

You were baptized in February The following year

And both your grandmothers thought you were such a dear.

Oh look here, your mother thought you looked like your dad.

Hey! Perhaps instead of lass, you should have been a lad?

You lived in a town called Friendship at the age of two

And soon you had a sister to always love you.

Of course that was followed by a few more;

A brother, another sister and together that made four.”

Laying down the baby book I dug further to explore

Wondering what else was hiding in my memory drawer.

I found a red Webster’s New World Dictionary copyrighted in 1990,

“You don’t even remember having that; I can tell, I can see.”

I then found several colorful art prints;

One still kept in a frame but the other wasn’t.

One picture of a girl pushing her sister in an old buggy

And the other of two girls sitting on a bench like young ladies.

“You remember that day you found these treasured items

In that store downtown; in the Arts and Crafts Emporium.

Ah! I see the glint in your eye, you enjoyed visiting that place.

It is a shame another business took that space.”

Going deeper into the drawer, I found an old pair of glasses tinted in light rose,

“I can see in your eyes that you remember wearing those

As well as the painful headache you had one night

Because the prescription in them was not right.”

Going still further I discovered crayon drawings and sheets of construction paper,

“Pink, white, or purple, which was your favorite color?

Do you remember how you tried to color so fine

And stay so meticulously inside the lines?”

Next was a cassette tape of children’s hymns,

“You tried so hard to sing but often were out of tune.

Remember coaxing the children to sing, God is so Good;

A favorite melody from your own childhood?

And you still have your old boom box that you bought with pride

Which is in your kitchen now sitting up high.

Speaking of music, remember how your grandmother was pleased

To see you play her piano but not always striking the right keys?

She was as delighted as she could be

To hear you strum, Consider the Lilies.

Lastly I found some pens and other odds and ends,

“When did all this cluttering begin? And when will it end?”

So tired now, I quietly closed my overwhelming memory drawer,

“Please come back for I am not done! I have so much more.”

What a late night of mixed and blessed memories was in store

All due to this assigned poem and my memory drawer.

Poetry 201 Assignment 7: Fingers, Prose Poetry, and Assonance

 

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Continuing in my poetry class, I was asked to write a piece of prose poetry in which the poem looks like prose but can you see the poetry within? It includes the subject of fingers and a technique known as assonance in which a repeating vowel sound is used. Can you determine what repeating vowel sound I used throughout this poem?  I hope you enjoy reading it.

Fingers on the Keyboard

Fingers floating and sliding along the plastic keys as I tried to remember the last melody. When was it that I struck a key followed by another and another? I plucked C, B, G, E, and sometimes D. Such a mystery as the last time keeps escaping me. When did I last take a seat with content upon a piano bench and played a tune with such gentle sweet ease? However now, I no longer have my grandmother’s piano, you see. Instead I have this electronic keyboard for simple melodies and that seemed just right for me.  Such a lifetime ago it was when my fingers danced gingerly and with subtle familiarity caressing and pressing those musical keys. Oh those sweet notes, the ebony and the ivory playing alternately and creating a sweet sounding melody.  When struck together they resonate in pleasing and lingering harmony. Although admittedly when oft my unpracticed fingers did glide over the black and white keys one may hear unmistakable disharmony. Many memories reside in me playing but constantly dismaying at the clash of keys in off-tuned melodies. I am not as talented as I would like to be to play this fine musical instrument; this assortment of black and white vibrating keys. Melody and harmony are too much for me and their mastery has too often eluded me.  So my fingers became still and my keyboard became silent; as quiet as can be. It serves now only as a tangible memory of my younger days when I would strive so determinedly to play a simple and sweet melody.

Poetry 201 Assignment 6 Hero(ine), Ballad, and Anaphora/Epistrophe

 

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Yep, I am still in that poetry class and we are on week 2 now. In this assignment I was to write a ballad (a story that can be set to music) about a hero or a heroine. The hero could be a real life figure or a fictional character. I decided on a fictional character being influenced by Cinderella. Additionally, the ballad needed to have a repeated phrase I the beginning or the ending.  I had a lot of fun writing this rather fairy tale ballad and I hope you enjoy it.

The Ballad of Cindy Cinders Cinderina

Cindy Cinders was a young, freckled heroine

Who tried to be as dainty and pristine

As a floating, dancing ballerina.

 Famed with the surname of Cinderina,

She eagerly enrolled and took a hopeful chance

To learn how to swing, tap, and slow dance.

She tried to waltz, ballet, and a bit of do-si-do

But too often stepped upon her partner’s toes.

Oh dear Cindy Cinders Cinderina;

Yes, dear Cindy Cinders Cinderina.

She then tried to walk so poised, serene and

As proper as a princess or a queen.

But her formal frock was much too long

And she tripped breaking her high-heeled thongs.

Not one to give up her lofty dream too soon so instead

She quietly held up high her swelled and freckled head.

Cindy Cinders dated a young, dashing and heroic prince

Who of her fine, dainty, gracefulness just wasn’t convinced.

Oh dear Cindy Cinders Cinderina;

Yes dear Cindy Cinders Cinderina.

Finally with sadness Cindy Cinders came to understand

That she could never be truly graceful or so grand

It was time she knew to alter her dream

To something she could triumphantly achieve

Deflated, tearful, and stuck in a saddened slump

Cindy Cinders sat and thought upon her favorite stump

“What good and fine thing can I possibly do

And still to myself remain ever faithfully true?”

Oh dear Cindy Cinders Cinderina;

Yes dear Cindy Cinders Cinderina.

Cindy Cinders walked and gazed in quiet serenity

Deep inside the lush forest and along the tranquil sea

She strolled across the meadows and the vast prairieland

Staring at the snowcapped mountains, majestic and grand

Then that night when the glittering stars shone so bright

Cindy Cinders arose in her bed and felt compelled to write

She couldn’t wait till morning light but had to start

Recording all the secret words buried inside her heart

Oh dear Cindy Cinders Cinderina;

Yes dear Cindy Cinders Cinderina.

Then a full week and several rainy days later

The visiting king happened to read her scribbled papers.

He was amazed and astonished to read and see

Cindy Cinders convey such loveliness and beauty

“Oh Cindy Cinders” replied the elated king,

“Your verses are delightful and so charming

Would you consider reciting your enchanting poems

For all the households of my kingdom?”

Oh dear Cindy Cinders Cinderina;

Yes dear Cindy Cinders Cinderina.

Cindy Cinders was startled and pleasantly surprised

As new tears welled and stung her pale blue eyes,

“Yes, Your Highness, I will gladly recite for the kingdom

And perhaps my verses will encourage everyone.”

So Cindy Cinders discovered inside herself a new dream

That she could truthfully and triumphantly achieve

She was crowned the Royal Princess Poet for the kingdom

Where all were enchanted by her wonderfully rhyming poems

Oh dear Cindy Cinders Cinderina;

Yes dear Cindy Cinders Cinderina.

Poetry 201 Potluck Assignment

 

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I was given an optional assignment to share with the class a favorite poem which I did not write. Here is a poem that I have always loved from the first time I read it. Ever since then this vision of a lone bird traveling into the sunset on a solitary journey has remained forever etched in my mind. After re-reading and reconsidering this poem, I am realizing that the waterfowl’s solitary journey seems to resemble my own life path as I have been often alone to think, contemplate things, and then write about it. The writing journey is truly a personal and solitary path. And I am certainly sensing that God is indeed directing my course in life.

To a Waterfowl

BY WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT

(1794-1878)

          Whither, ‘midst falling dew,

While glow the heavens with the last steps of day,

Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue

          Thy solitary way?

          Vainly the fowler’s eye

Might mark thy distant flight, to do thee wrong,

As, darkly seen against the crimson sky,

          Thy figure floats along.

          Seek’st thou the plashy brink

Of weedy lake, or marge of river wide,

Or where the rocking billows rise and sink

          On the chaféd ocean side?

          There is a Power, whose care

Teaches thy way along that pathless coast,—

The desert and illimitable air

          Lone wandering, but not lost.

          All day thy wings have fanned,

At that far height, the cold thin atmosphere;

Yet stoop not, weary, to the welcome land,

          Though the dark night is near.

          And soon that toil shall end,

Soon shalt thou find a summer home, and rest,

And scream among thy fellows; reeds shall bend,

          Soon, o’er thy sheltered nest.

          Thou’rt gone, the abyss of heaven

Hath swallowed up thy form, yet, on my heart

Deeply hath sunk the lesson thou hast given,

          And shall not soon depart.

          He, who, from zone to zone,

Guides through the boundless sky thy certain flight,

In the long way that I must trace alone,

          Will lead my steps aright.

Poetry 201 Assignment 5: Fog, Elegy, and Metaphors

 

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In this latest poetry assignment, we were asked write about fog in an elegy which is often about an irreversible loss; like something you can never get back. And we’re to include metaphors in our writing. In contemplating this, I felt compelled to write about one of my deepest losses which often feels like a fresh wound that never heals. Just reliving this in my mind brought new and uncontrollable tears but I I felt some relief in writing about it and in that I am finally sharing this story. I have no doubt that it is God who comforts and gently helps me to remember even the most secret memories that are buried the deepest inside of me. I do have the comfort of knowing that she is safe and happy with Jesus in heaven. 

Trying to Remember

Has it really been almost five years?

Sometimes it seems longer

And yet in my moments of anguished tears

It seems yesterday, I did hear her

These past recent years have been so

Painfully empty and void

Of her sweet presence, her cheerful face

And her laughing voice.

Oh what did she last say? I sadly forgot

I am searching through the fog

Of my many memories of my childhood home

Where I was never all alone.

My blurred memories are like the many rooms

Of our two-story, century old house

Where in the years of clutter, a recollection is hidden

 like a treasure of precious gems.

She was always there spreading her love so

that there was nothing to be afraid of.

Like the scent of the freshest flowers, our house permeated

of her nurturing spirit and her gentle, soft voice.

Oh how I yearn to remember her comforting words,

Can’t I have that that wish, that one choice?

How I dream to hear her laughter and see her smiling

Once again. Oh, just one more time.

The foggy haze is still sticking and lingering in me

Not letting me remember or to see

And it won’t let me grasp what I long to know;

The last words she said on the phone.

Oh I do remember, soon Easter was coming

And I told her on the phone,

“In a few days I will see you, Mom.

In a few days I will come home.”

As we gaily chatted away, I continued,

“Mom, we’ll have a splendid Easter.

Work has granted me extra time off so

We’ll have four days together.”

But before Easter came and before

I could journey home

My mother suddenly passed away

In that big old house all alone.

She was so happy to talk to me on the phone

And joyful that I was coming to see her

Now the fog like a weakened storm has cleared

And in my mind her voice I could hear.

With an aching heart I remember my mother’s joyous tone,

 “I love you and I will see you soon.”

Poetry 201 Assignment 4: Animal, Concrete Poetry, and Emjambment

Well, I made a try on this one and am not sure if I did it. I needed to write a poem about an animal and in the form of an animal. I also needed to incorporate a technique known as emjambment to make the poem sort of a mystery to follow. Can you follow my poem? And can you guess what animal my poem is about?

My Midnight Stalker

Deep in the night was a new moon somewhere outside my tiny bedroom.

As I lay trying to sleep I knew that a creeping creature was

Stalking

me.

                   HE

R T

A

I

L

W

AS

TAUNT

AN                                       D T

WITC                                          HING

WITH ANTICIPATION. AS HER BODY

WAS P                                             ERFECTL

Y  STILL          WI        TH             NO HINT O

F ANIMA           MATION.             HER KEEN G

N EYES                 STA                        RED WITH

INTE                                                   NT FOR

ANY SIGN                         OF MOVE

MENT. I SCRATCHED MY HEA

D AS SHE PAUSED ON M

Y BED                        AND THEN

POUNCE

Poetry 201 Assignment 3: Trust, Acrostic, and Internal Rhyme

On day 3 in my poetry 201 class, I was asked to write a new poem containing the word “trust”, using an acrostic and internal rhyme. I must admit, this is getting more challenging but I think I did. Do you think I accomplished the assignment? Here is my new poem:

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Looking into the FUTURE

Forward gazing into the

Unexplored and unknown.

Trusting and embracing that

Unfilled hopes will soon become

Realized dreams at the end of

Enduring determination, my dear friend.

Another Limerick Just for Fun

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Well, after some more contemplating,the little kid inside of me got all stirred up and, consequently, another limerick came to mine. This one contains a journey and an alliteration but is quite silly. However, I did have fun writing it as I imagined a happy little boy hopping and skipping down the street:

Jumping Joey

Jumping Joey went on a journey

Jolly jumping down Juniper Alley.

Joey was so jolly;

He jumped up, my golly

and jolly jumped back home eating jelly.

Poetry 201 Assignment 2: Limericks, Journey, and Alliteration

 

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Okay, I am in day two of this poetry class and our assignment is to write a limerick containing a journey and alliteration. Limericks are known to be humorous and writing humor is quite a challenge for me. And composing one limerick with a journey and alliteration was a bit much so I wrote two separate limericks to accomplish this assignment. One focuses on a journey I once embarked on while the other limerick as an attempt at a more humorous alliteration. Do you think I completed the assignment correctly? I will say, I had fun creating these two short poems and I hope you enjoy them.

 

Surprising Journey

One day I began a journey

When it was cold and blustery

In the sky I gazed

And was quite amazed

To see a sundog watching me

 

Bessie Boo

Bessie Boo bought ballerina shoes

Dyed in black and blinding blue

She met a bashful knight

Who could not dance just right

And banged her toes all black and blue

Another Haiku Just for Fun

 

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Inspired by other poets in my poetry class who are writing multiple haiku’s about water which included a simile, I decided to attempt another one. I was amazed at all the different ways, people thought about water.

Drip

I hear a drip drip

from a  tap sounding like tick

tick of my father’s clock