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      <title>Remake of Poetry Posts - D2 by René Curley</title>
      <link>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i</link>
      <description>Created for Discerning Literary Minds by Discerning Literary Minds</description>
      <language>en-us</language>
      <pubDate>2018-03-07 18:09:26 UTC</pubDate>
      <lastBuildDate>2024-02-05 21:48:33 UTC</lastBuildDate>
      <webMaster>hello@padlet.com</webMaster>
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         <title></title>
         <author>curley_rene00</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/239308634</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div>Create a post by copying and pasting a photo of your poet, a copy of the poem you are analyzing, and then your analytical commentary.  Be sure to include your name, or user name at the bottom of the post so I can give you credit for your work.</div>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2018-03-07 18:09:26 UTC</pubDate>
         <guid>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/239308634</guid>
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         <title></title>
         <author>JuanZam</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/244523632</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div>My Name is Espada<br>Espada: the word for sword in Spain<br>wrought by fire and the hammer's chime,<br>name for the warrior reeling helmut-hooded<br>through the pandemonium of horses in mud,<br>or the face dreaming on a sarcophagus,<br>hands folded across the hilt of stone.<br>Espada: sword in el Caribe,<br>rapier tested sharp across the bellies of Indios, steel tongue<br>lapping blood like a mastiff gorged on a runaway slave,<br>god gleaming brighter than the god nailed to the cross,<br>forged at the anvil with chains by the millions<br>tangled and red as the entrails of demons.<br>Espada: baptizing Taíno or Congolese,<br>name they stuttered in the barking language<br>of priests and overseers, slave's finger pressed to the blade<br>with the pulsing revelation that a Spaniard's throat<br>could seep blood like a fingertip, sabers for the uprising<br>smuggled in the hay, slave of the upraised saber<br>beheaded even as the servants and fieldhands<br>murmured he is not dead, he rides a white horse at night,<br>his sword is a torch, the master cannot sleep,<br>there is a dagger under the pillow.<br>Espada: cousin to the machete, peasant cutlass<br>splitting the cane like a peasant's backbone,<br>cousin to the kitchen knife skinning a plátano.<br>Swords at rest, the machetero or cook<br>studied their blisters as if planets<br>to glimpse the hands of their father the horseman,<br>map the hands of their mother the serf.<br>Espada: sword in Puerto Rico, family name of bricklayers<br>who swore their trowels fell as leaves from iron trees;<br>teachers who wrote poems in galloping calligraphy;<br>saintcarvers who whittled a slave's gaze and a conqueror's beard;<br>shoemaker spitting tuberculosis, madwoman<br>dangling a lantern to listen for the cough;<br>gambler in a straw hat inhabited by mathematical angels;<br>preacher who first heard the savior's voice<br>bleeding through the plaster of the jailhouse;<br>dreadlocked sculptor stunned by visions of birds,<br>sprouting wings from his forehead, earthen wings in the fire.<br>So the face dreaming on a sarcophagus,<br>the slave of the saber riding a white horse by night<br>breathe my name, tell me to taste my name: Espada.</div>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2018-03-21 13:53:09 UTC</pubDate>
         <guid>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/244523632</guid>
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         <title></title>
         <author>bilesnicole12</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/244524931</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<h1>Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening </h1><div><br></div><div> By <a href="https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/robert-frost">Robert Frost</a></div><div><br></div><div>Whose woods these are I think I know.   </div><div> His house is in the village though;   </div><div> He will not see me stopping here   </div><div> To watch his woods fill up with snow.   </div><div><br></div><div> My little horse must think it queer   </div><div> To stop without a farmhouse near   </div><div> Between the woods and frozen lake   </div><div> The darkest evening of the year.   </div><div><br></div><div> He gives his harness bells a shake   </div><div> To ask if there is some mistake.   </div><div> The only other sound’s the sweep   </div><div> Of easy wind and downy flake.   </div><div><br></div><div> The woods are lovely, dark and deep,   </div><div> But I have promises to keep,   </div><div> And miles to go before I sleep,   </div><div> And miles to go before I sleep.                        </div><div><br></div>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2018-03-21 13:55:27 UTC</pubDate>
         <guid>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/244524931</guid>
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         <title></title>
         <author>JuanZam</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/244525929</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div>Haunt Me<br>for my father<br>I am the archaeologist. I sift the shards of you: cufflinks, passport photos,<br>a button from the March on Washington with a black hand shaking<br>a white hand, letters in Spanish, your birth certificate from a town high<br>in the mountains. I cup your silence, and the silence melts like ice in a cup.<br>I search for you in two yellow Kodak boxes marked Puerto Rico,<br>Noche Buena, Diciembre 1968. In the 8-millimeter silence the Espadas<br>gather, elders born before the Spanish American War, my grandfather<br>on crutches after fracturing his fossil hip, his blind brother on a cane.<br>You greet the elders and they call you Tato, the name they call you there.<br>Uncles and cousins sing in a chorus of tongues without sound, vibration<br>of guitar strings stilled by an unseen hand, maracas shaking empty<br>of seeds. The camera wobbles from the singers to the television<br>and the astronauts sending pictures of the moon back to earth.<br>Down by the river, women still pound laundry on the rocks.<br>I am eleven again, a boy from the faraway city of ice that felled<br>my grandfather, startled after the blind man with the cane stroked<br>my face with his hand dry as straw, crying out Bendito. At the table,<br>I hear only the silence that rises like the river in my big ears.<br>You sit next to me, clowning for the camera, tugging the lapels<br>on your jacket, slicking back your black hair, brown skin darker<br>from days in the sun. You slide your arm around my shoulder,<br>your good right arm, your pitching arm, and my moon face radiates,<br>and the mountain song of my uncles and cousins plays in my head.<br>Watching you now, my face stings as it stung when my blind great-uncle<br>brushed my cheekbones, searching for his own face. When you died,<br>Tato, I took a razor to the movie looping in my head, cutting the scenes<br>where you curled an arm around my shoulder, all the times you would<br>squeeze the silence out of me so I could hear the cries and songs again.<br>When you died, I heard only the silences between us, the shouts belling<br>the air before the phone went dead, all the words melting like ice in a cup.<br>That way I could set my jaw and take my mother’s hand at the mortuary,<br>greet the elders in my suit and tie at the memorial, say all the right words.<br>Yet my face stings at last. I rewind and watch your arm drape across<br>my shoulder, over and over. A year ago, you pressed a Kodak slide<br>of my grandfather into my hand and said: Next time, stay longer.<br>Now, in the silence that is never silent, I push the chair away<br>from the table and say to you: Sit down. Tell me everything. Haunt me.</div>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2018-03-21 13:57:19 UTC</pubDate>
         <guid>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/244525929</guid>
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         <title></title>
         <author>itsbowersj</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/244527350</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div>  <strong>"Cincinnati," in Camp Notes<br></strong><br></div><div>Freedom at last <br>in this town aimless<br>I walked against the rush<br>hour traffic<br>My first day<br>in a real city<br>where<br><br></div><div>no one knew me.<br><br></div><div>No one except one<br>hissing voice that said <br>dirty jap<br>warm spittle on my right cheek.<br>I turned and faced<br>the shop window <br>and my spittle face<br>spilled onto a hill<br>of books.<br>Words on display.<br><br><br> As I read this poem, I had to read it multiple times to understand the meaning I inferred from the poem. As I did my sketch notes, I highlighted words like “Freedom” and “aimless” to understand that Yamada was trying to imply she was exposed to a new world. The discrimination and name calling she went through is what gave her motive to create her work. Generally, Yamada experienced isolation and racism, on her “first day in a real city”. However, she used that discrimination to put her “ Words on display.” To give her readers an insight of her story.</div><div><br><br></div>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2018-03-21 14:00:01 UTC</pubDate>
         <guid>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/244527350</guid>
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         <title></title>
         <author>samanthamata73</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/244528508</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div><figure class="attachment attachment--preview"><img src="null" width="192" height="263"><figcaption class="attachment__caption"></figcaption></figure></div><h1>Heaven</h1><div>BY <a href="https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/cathy-song">CATHY SONG</a></div><div>He thinks when we die we’ll go to China.</div><div>Think of it—a Chinese heaven   </div><div>where, except for his blond hair,   </div><div>the part that belongs to his father,   </div><div>everyone will look like him.</div><div>China, that blue flower on the map,   </div><div>bluer than the sea</div><div>his hand must span like a bridge   </div><div>to reach it.</div><div>An octave away.</div><div><br></div><div>I’ve never seen it.</div><div>It’s as if I can’t sing that far.</div><div>But look—</div><div>on the map, this black dot.</div><div>Here is where we live,</div><div>on the pancake plains</div><div>just east of the Rockies,</div><div>on the other side of the clouds.</div><div>A mile above the sea,</div><div>the air is so thin, you can starve on it.   </div><div>No bamboo trees</div><div>but the alpine equivalent,</div><div>reedy aspen with light, fluttering leaves.   </div><div>Did a boy in Guangzhou dream of this   </div><div>as his last stop?</div><div><br></div><div>I’ve heard the trains at night</div><div>whistling past our yards,</div><div>what we’ve come to own,</div><div>the broken fences, the whiny dog, the rattletrap cars.   </div><div>It’s still the wild west,</div><div>mean and grubby,</div><div>the shootouts and fistfights in the back alley.   </div><div>With my son the dreamer</div><div>and my daughter, who is too young to walk,   </div><div>I’ve sat in this spot</div><div>and wondered why here?</div><div>Why in this short life,</div><div>this town, this creek they call a river?</div><div><br></div><div>He had never planned to stay,   </div><div>the boy who helped to build   </div><div>the railroads for a dollar a day.   </div><div>He had always meant to go back.   </div><div>When did he finally know</div><div>that each mile of track led him further away,   </div><div>that he would die in his sleep,   </div><div>dispossessed,</div><div>having seen Gold Mountain,</div><div>the icy wind tunneling through it,</div><div>these landlocked, makeshift ghost towns?</div><div><br></div><div>It must be in the blood,   </div><div>this notion of returning.</div><div>It skipped two generations, lay fallow,</div><div>the garden an unmarked grave.</div><div>On a spring sweater day   </div><div>it’s as if we remember him.   </div><div>I call to the children.   </div><div>We can see the mountains   </div><div>shimmering blue above the air.</div><div>If you look really hard</div><div>says my son the dreamer,</div><div>leaning out from the laundry’s rigging,   </div><div>the work shirts fluttering like sails,   </div><div>you can see all the way to heaven.</div><div>Poem Analysis: “Heaven”, by the title you could think its paradise after death but, in the beginning of the poem Songs son refers “Heaven” as China. Her song is bringing the notions of returning where his family came from. Her son hopes to find people to get involved with in China with the same characteristics as him.  Cathy has never been to China where her family is from. It’s a place she would love to go to learn more about her ancestry and her heritage and meet people there, like her son said to meet people with similar characteristics as them. Although she questions herself why her grandfather left China and came to America. Ideas such as isolation, identity, and freedom. Identity is shown through the family and the ancestry. Cathy has never been to China and her grandfather never returned. Her grandfather basically isolated himself from his country leaving no tracts of himself. An example of a literacy element shown through the poem often is China, it was a symbolism of heaven, because her son thinks that when everyone dies they go to China. Bringing identity and the ethnicity of their race. Cathy thought are rerouted to a historical time when a boy in southern China started his long journey to the United States to make a living at the gold mines and the railroad, indefinitely prolonging his stay. Switching back to the present, the poet muses that “It must be in the blood, this notion of returning. It skipped two generations, lay fallow, the garden an unmarked grave.” This realization, triggered by the innocent thoughts of a child, leads the poet to call to the children to look to where “we can see the mountains shimmering blue above the air.” Late much of the tone throughout the poem is desirous, wistful, and sorrowful. The poem begins with a neutral tone than shifts to a tone that is negative but ends on a positive note. <br>http://napavalleyregister.com/opinion/letters/the-napa-high-indian/article_5644f4cb-7f17-53c8-8b86-9a05d76aab46.html this documentary showed how heritage culture and background isolated themselves from others to keep its self safe - samantha mata </div>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2018-03-21 14:01:34 UTC</pubDate>
         <guid>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/244528508</guid>
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         <title></title>
         <author>jonathanbrooks614</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/244529343</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div><figure class="attachment attachment--preview" 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width="193" height="262"><figcaption class="attachment__caption"></figcaption></figure></div>]]></description>
         <enclosure url="" />
         <pubDate>2018-03-21 14:02:58 UTC</pubDate>
         <guid>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/244529343</guid>
      </item>
      <item>
         <title></title>
         <author>bilesnicole12</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/244529422</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<h1>The Road Not Taken </h1><div><em>Launch Audio in a New Window</em></div><div><br></div><div> By <a href="https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/robert-frost">Robert Frost</a></div><div><br></div><div>Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,</div><div> And sorry I could not travel both</div><div> And be one traveler, long I stood</div><div> And looked down one as far as I could</div><div> To where it bent in the undergrowth;</div><div><br></div><div> Then took the other, as just as fair,</div><div> And having perhaps the better claim,</div><div> Because it was grassy and wanted wear;</div><div> Though as for that the passing there</div><div> Had worn them really about the same,</div><div><br></div><div> And both that morning equally lay</div><div> In leaves no step had trodden black.</div><div> Oh, I kept the first for another day!</div><div> Yet knowing how way leads on to way,</div><div> I doubted if I should ever come back.</div><div><br></div><div> I shall be telling this with a sigh</div><div> Somewhere ages and ages hence:</div><div> Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—</div><div> I took the one less traveled by,</div><div> And that has made all the difference.</div><div></div>]]></description>
         <enclosure url="https://www.bachrachportraits.com/assets/images/db_images/db_Robert_Frost_color1.jpg" />
         <pubDate>2018-03-21 14:03:05 UTC</pubDate>
         <guid>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/244529422</guid>
      </item>
      <item>
         <title></title>
         <author>natalieaguirre1106</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/244530063</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<h1>“Alone”</h1><div>BY <a href="https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/edgar-allan-poe">EDGAR ALLAN POE</a></div><div>From childhood’s hour I have not been&nbsp;</div><div>As others were—I have not seen&nbsp;</div><div>As others saw—I could not bring&nbsp;</div><div>My passions from a common spring—&nbsp;</div><div>From the same source I have not taken&nbsp;</div><div>My sorrow—I could not awaken&nbsp;</div><div>My heart to joy at the same tone—&nbsp;</div><div>And all I lov’d—<em>I</em> lov’d alone—&nbsp;</div><div><em>Then</em>—in my childhood—in the dawn&nbsp;</div><div>Of a most stormy life—was drawn&nbsp;</div><div>From ev’ry depth of good and ill&nbsp;</div><div>The mystery which binds me still—&nbsp;</div><div>From the torrent, or the fountain—&nbsp;</div><div>From the red cliff of the mountain—&nbsp;</div><div>From the sun that ’round me roll’d&nbsp;</div><div>In its autumn tint of gold—&nbsp;</div><div>From the lightning in the sky&nbsp;</div><div>As it pass’d me flying by—&nbsp;</div><div>From the thunder, and the storm—&nbsp;</div><div>And the cloud that took the form&nbsp;</div><div>(When the rest of Heaven was blue)&nbsp;</div><div>Of a demon in my view—</div><div><br><mark>Littery analysis</mark>&nbsp;<br>This poem is tittled "Alone" by just reading the tittle I get/got the general idea/theme of loneliness and isolation.&nbsp;<br>The sum of the poem is edgar describing himself/his life on how he has seen the darkness in the world when I read it the poem gave me the idea of a pessimist and a person who was isolated from a young age. In the poem there was a big use of alliteration and imagery the one that expresses the idea of isolation is this quote "and all I loved, i loved alone" and "from childhoods hour I have not been as others were, i have not been as others were, - I I have not seen as others saw," this loneliness was brought from a young age. The author was always alone.&nbsp;<br>The tone of this poem is vary dark and somber. Alone describes alot of dark and sad things that happened to poe's life, edgar describes how he was always alone and was isolated from Socity and looked down upon. The key words to help are "sorrow" "I lov'd Alone" "stormy life" "mystery" "torrent" and the rhyme scheme is AABB the rhymes rhyme but some times not in a rhyme sense but a visual one. </div><div><br></div>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2018-03-21 14:04:12 UTC</pubDate>
         <guid>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/244530063</guid>
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         <title></title>
         <author>natalieaguirre1106</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/244674444</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<h1>A Dream Within a Dream</h1><div>BY <a href="https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/edgar-allan-poe">EDGAR ALLAN POE</a></div><div>Take this kiss upon the brow!</div><div>And, in parting from you now,</div><div>Thus much let me avow —</div><div>You are not wrong, who deem</div><div>That my days have been a dream;</div><div>Yet if hope has flown away</div><div>In a night, or in a day,</div><div>In a vision, or in none,</div><div>Is it therefore the less <em>gone</em>? &nbsp;</div><div><em>All</em> that we see or seem</div><div>Is but a dream within a dream.</div><div><br></div><div>I stand amid the roar</div><div>Of a surf-tormented shore,</div><div>And I hold within my hand</div><div>Grains of the golden sand —</div><div>How few! yet how they creep</div><div>Through my fingers to the deep,</div><div>While I weep — while I weep!</div><div>O God! Can I not grasp&nbsp;</div><div>Them with a tighter clasp?</div><div>O God! can I not save</div><div><em>One</em> from the pitiless wave?</div><div>Is <em>all</em> that we see or seem</div><div>But a dream within a dream?<br><br><mark>Literary analysis</mark>&nbsp;<br>The poem is titled "A dream within a dream" once I read this tittle i thought of a sweet dreams but once I read the poem it was twisted to cruelty and darkness. The sum of the poem is of a parting of the speaker parting with some one and the author can not grasp the there parting.&nbsp;<br>This is all described in first persons point of view. Poe uses alliteration imagery and personification. And is written in iambic rhythm.&nbsp;<br>The tone of the poem is devastated contemplative and distraught and this is best shown with these words "while i weep " And "o god! Can I not grasp them with a tighter clasp" </div>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2018-03-21 17:56:18 UTC</pubDate>
         <guid>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/244674444</guid>
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         <title></title>
         <author>itsbowersj</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/244758169</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div> <strong>The Question of Loyalty</strong></div><div> If I sign this</div><div>What will I be?</div><div>I am doubly loyal</div><div>to my American children</div><div>also to my own people.</div><div>How can double mean nothing?</div><div>I wish no one to lose this war.</div><div>Everyone does.</div><div><strong>    <br><br>As I read this poem i noticed that identity is a priority to Yamada. Loyalty is questioned, and i ask myself, Can you be loyal to a country you were not born in? I believe this allows a reader to see that by her being loyal to both America and Her home land, Japan, makes her just as patriotic as the average Jane. This war she refers to is meant to be the war for an identity, again this is one her Yamada’s strongest purpose. Her purpose being ,or theme I should say, just because she was not born in America, does not mean she is not American. She has followed our culture, our government, and she has contributed to the society. </strong></div>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2018-03-21 20:47:22 UTC</pubDate>
         <guid>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/244758169</guid>
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         <title></title>
         <author>samanthamata73</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/244824341</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div>"Lost Sister" - Cathy Song&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;1<br>In China,<br>even the peasants<br>named their first daughters<br>Jade―<br>the stone that in the far fields<br>could moisten the dry season,<br>could make men move mountains<br>for the healing green of the inner hills<br>glistening like slices of winter melon.<br>And the daughters were grateful:<br>They never left home.<br>To move freely was a luxury<br>stolen from them at birth.<br>Instead, they gathered patience;<br>learning to walk in shoes<br>the size of teacups,<br>without breaking―<br>the arc of their movements<br>as dormant as the rooted willow,<br>as redundant as the farmyard hens.<br>But they traveled far<br>in surviving,<br>learning to stretch the family rice,<br>to quiet the demons,<br>the noisy stomachs.<br>2<br>There is a sister<br>across the ocean,<br>who relinquished her name,<br>diluting jade green<br>with the blue of the Pacific.<br>Rising with a tide of locusts,<br>she swarmed with others<br>to inundate another shore.<br>In America,<br>there are many roads<br>and women can stride along with men.<br>But in another wilderness,<br>the possibilities,<br>the loneliness,<br>can strangulate like jungle vines.<br>The meager provisions and sentiments<br>of once belonging―<br>fermented roots, Mah-Jong tiles and firecrackers―set but<br>a flimsy household<br>in a forest of nightless cities.<br>A giant snake rattles above,<br>spewing black clouds into your kitchen.<br>Dough-faced landlords<br>slip in and out of your keyholes,<br>making claims you don't understand,<br>tapping into your communication systems<br>of laundry lines and restaurant chains.<br>You find you need China:<br>your one fragile identification,<br>a jade link<br>handcuffed to your wrist.<br>You remember your mother<br>who walked for centuries,<br>footless―<br>and like her,<br>you have left no footprints,<br>but only because<br>there is an ocean in between,<br>the unremitting space of your rebellion.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; Literacy Analysis: This poem has a set of tone that lead questioning and situations that are quite semimetal and a bit sad. When you read the poem tittle you think that its abut a sister that’s lost with no escape. Also, the other sister expressing her feelings in the poem, but thoughts aren’t quite right. Lost Sister is a poem in which two sisters have different aspects of a lifestyle. One sister wants to leave China and begin her life in America. While the other sister wants to stay in China and learn about her heritage and society. This poem has an aspect of similar generations by culture but are separated by their lifestyles. In my opinion I think the sisters could make their own opinions their old enough to make their decisions, there are ways they can contact and transportation to see each other if they wish to do so. Although there was a defect because in the poem, women in China had to give up their freedom for their family and tradition. In this poem the speaker shows the readers how the differences of living in America and China were like for women. “your mother”, this phrase in my opinion was symbolic to the poem because “your mother”, was meant to be Chinese woman of the past. My thought on this phrase was the lifestyle that woman had back then which was for example, to clean watch out for the family (do housewife material things) Woman basically did have to give up their freedom for their family or else how would the rest of the family be prepared. Also, I think that culture also has a huge impact on the women who stayed in China, women before had a lifestyle to be a housewife and maybe that kept on passing on to family to family like a tradition.&nbsp; Although the sister escapes the limitations she had in China, she yet experiences a different set of identity issues and limitations on her power and independence, as she navigates a foreign world and its cultural barriers.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; <a href="http://www.pitlanemagazine.com/morals-values-and-norms/how-much-does-culture-and-lifestyle-affect-behavior.html">http://www.pitlanemagazine.com/morals-values-and-norms/how-much-does-culture-and-lifestyle-affect-behavior.html</a> this article shows how some still choose their culture tradition and how lifestyles people choose affect them. - samantha mata&nbsp;<br> &nbsp;</div>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2018-03-22 02:57:06 UTC</pubDate>
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         <title></title>
         <author>jiaenzeng</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/244832304</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div><strong>To Change The World Enough</strong></div><div><strong>&nbsp; By Alice Walker</strong></div><div><strong>&nbsp;&nbsp;</strong></div><div><br></div><div>To change the world enough</div><div>you must cease to be afraid</div><div>of the poor.</div><div>We experience your fear as the least pardonable of</div><div>humiliations; in the past</div><div>it has sent us scurrying off</div><div>daunted and ashamed</div><div>into the shadows.</div><div>Now,</div><div>the world ending</div><div>the only one all of us have known</div><div>we seek the same</div><div>fresh light</div><div>you do:</div><div>the same high place</div><div>and ample table.</div><div>The poor always believe</div><div>there is room enough</div><div>for all of us;&nbsp;</div><div>the very rich never seem to have heard</div><div>of this.</div><div>In us there is wisdom of how to share</div><div>loaves and fishes</div><div>however few;&nbsp;</div><div>we do this everyday.</div><div>Learn from us,</div><div>we ask you.</div><div>We enter now</div><div>the dreaded location</div><div>of Earth's reckoning;&nbsp;</div><div>no longer far</div><div>off</div><div>or hidden in books</div><div>that claim to disclose</div><div>revelations;&nbsp;</div><div>it is here.</div><div>We must walk together without fear.</div><div>There is no path without us&nbsp;<br><br>Literary Analysis</div><div>&nbsp;As I read Alice Walker’s poem “To Change the World Enough”, I found out that this poem has no rhyme scheme, Walker did not use any meters and she uses simple words just as the poem “Expect Nothing”.&nbsp; The mood of the poem is dark and angry. Walker feels like poor people are treated unfairly which reflect one of the ideas of the poem.&nbsp; she writes “ In us this is wisdom of how to shares loaves and fishes…” (line 22-23) here, she promotes equal power between gender and class. Next, as I read through the poem, Walker also concerned about social class, she believes that end of war is near, and it’s time for the poor and rich to work together. She writes “ The poor always believe there is room enough for all of us; the very rich never seem to have heard of this…” ( line 17-23) here, she pointed out that the poor know how to share and rich just don’t.&nbsp; Walker's purpose (theme) for this is that she wants everyone to work together and unity, she believes that unity is the only choices for peace.&nbsp; She is frustrated because she thinks that time is running out and she wants everyone to "walk together without fear," which mean that everyone have to work together to solve this problem.<br>Moreover some of the literary element she uses are allusion, repetition, and visual imagery.&nbsp; She writes “ Loaves and fishes” here, Walker refer to the bible without mention Bibble Mathew. Next walker used repetition “ we” in order to emphasize her ideas and theme as well as the structure of the poem. Also she uses visual imagery to show that if we want peace we have to walk together and can’t be angry at each others.&nbsp; <br><strong>link </strong>-<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alice_Walker#/media/File:Alice_Walker.jpg">https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alice_Walker#/media/File:Alice_Walker.jpg</a></div>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2018-03-22 03:57:27 UTC</pubDate>
         <guid>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/244832304</guid>
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         <title></title>
         <author>jiaenzeng</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/244833100</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div>&nbsp;<strong>Expect Nothing</strong></div><div><strong>&nbsp;By Alice Walker</strong></div><div><a href="https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&amp;rct=j&amp;q=&amp;esrc=s&amp;source=images&amp;cd=&amp;cad=rja&amp;uact=8&amp;ved=2ahUKEwjz3d-JwYHaAhVEX60KHSX9DIsQjRx6BAgAEAU&amp;url=https%3A%2F%2Fen.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FAlice_Walker&amp;psig=AOvVaw2Z2gb1a6vba3lKMLmCkt8w&amp;ust=1521862320165321"><br></a><br></div><div>Expect nothing. Live frugally&nbsp;</div><div>On surprise.&nbsp;</div><div>become a stranger&nbsp;</div><div>To need of pity&nbsp;</div><div>Or, if compassion be freely&nbsp;</div><div>Given out&nbsp;</div><div>Take only enough&nbsp;</div><div>Stop short of urge to plead&nbsp;</div><div>Then purge away the need.&nbsp;</div><div><br></div><div>Wish for nothing larger&nbsp;</div><div>Than your own small heart&nbsp;</div><div>Or greater than a star;&nbsp;</div><div>Tame wild disappointment&nbsp;</div><div>With caress unmoved and cold&nbsp;</div><div>Make of it a parka&nbsp;</div><div>For your soul.&nbsp;</div><div><br></div><div>Discover the reason why&nbsp;</div><div>So tiny human midget&nbsp;</div><div>Exists at all&nbsp;</div><div>So scared unwise&nbsp;</div><div>But expect nothing. Live frugally&nbsp;</div><div>On surprise.</div><div><strong>Literary Analysis -</strong> As I read the poem, I realized that the poem is simple and easy to read. The tone and mood of the are neutral and simple. Walker did not use any rhyme and complicated words, instead, she uses words that are pretty straightforward in order to emphasize the title as well as the messages “Expect Nothing. Moreover, my first impression of the title is lack of expectation, as what Walker said in the first stanza&nbsp; “expect nothing. Live frugally on surprise.” Here, she explained that life should be simple and easy; we should enjoy every little thing and live our life to the fullest. Furthermore, as I get a deeper analysis, I realized that&nbsp; Walker promotes a bigger idea which is independence and self- reliant. She believed that people should do their own things instead depend on others. She writes “Step short of urge to plead. Then purge away the need.” (L8-L9 ) I totally agree with Walker and these two lines are my favorite part of the poem. If we can do things on our own, why depends on others?&nbsp; We should be thankful for what we have instead compared it with others. Life is simple, but sometimes we just make it more complicated. However, Walker also uses some literary elements such as metaphor, personification, and symbolism in order to emphasize the idea of simplicity. First, she uses metaphor to compare the heart as greater than a star in order to show tiny things can be the greatest. Next, she uses personification to compare things in the world which allows readers to have a better understanding. She writes, “wild Disappointment” (L13) and “make of it a Parka for your soul” (L15-16) here, she describes disappointment as wild and she says to uses the disappointment as Parka for your soul. According to Walker, parka means protection, which to protect the soul from suffering. Lastly, Walker also uses symbolism such as “small heart”, which refer to one’s ability and value. <a href="https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&amp;rct=j&amp;q=&amp;esrc=s&amp;source=images&amp;cd=&amp;cad=rja&amp;uact=8&amp;ved=2ahUKEwjz3d-JwYHaAhVEX60KHSX9DIsQjRx6BAgAEAU&amp;url=https%3A%2F%2Fen.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FAlice_Walker&amp;psig=AOvVaw2Z2gb1a6vba3lKMLmCkt8w&amp;ust=1521862320165321"><br></a><strong>link -</strong><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alice_Walker#/media/File:Alice_Walker.jpg">https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alice_Walker#/media/File:Alice_Walker.jpg</a></div>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2018-03-22 04:04:10 UTC</pubDate>
         <guid>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/244833100</guid>
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         <title>Dreams by Langston Hughes</title>
         <author>sky110098</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/244962771</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div><br>Hold fast to dreams <br>For if dreams die<br>Life is a broken-winged bird<br>That cannot fly.<br><br>Hold fast to dreams<br>For when dreams go<br>Life is a barren field<br>Frozen with snow.</div>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2018-03-22 12:59:41 UTC</pubDate>
         <guid>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/244962771</guid>
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         <title>Life is Fine by Langston Hughes</title>
         <author>sky110098</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/244970962</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<pre>I went down to the river,
I set down on the bank.
I tried to think but couldn't,
So I jumped in and sank.

I came up once and hollered!
I came up twice and cried!
If that water hadn't a-been so cold
I might've sunk and died.

     <em>But it was      Cold in that water!      It was cold!</em>

I took the elevator
Sixteen floors above the ground.
I thought about my baby
And thought I would jump down.

I stood there and I hollered!
I stood there and I cried!
If it hadn't a-been so high
I might've jumped and died.

     <em>But it was      High up there!      It was high!</em>

So since I'm still here livin',
I guess I will live on.
I could've died for love—
But for livin' I was born

Though you may hear me holler,
And you may see me cry—
I'll be dogged, sweet baby,
If you gonna see me die.

     <em>Life is fine!      Fine as wine!      Life is fine!</em></pre><div>In this poem , it describes some of the emotions that lead him to suicidal thoughts..*not finished</div>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2018-03-22 13:16:49 UTC</pubDate>
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         <title>Death Gets into the Suburbs by Michelle Boisseau</title>
         <author>michellealmanza00</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/245250572</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div>It sweats into the tongue and groove of redwood decks with a Tahoe view.<br>It slides under the truck where some knuckles</div><div><br></div><div>are getting banged up on a stuck nut.</div><div>It whirls in the egg whites. Among blacks and whites spread evenly. Inside the chicken</div><div><br></div><div>factory, the Falcon 7x, and under the bridge.</div><div><br></div><div>There’s death by taxi, by blood clot, by slippery rug.</div><div>Death by oops and flood, by drone and gun.</div><div><br></div><div>Death with honor derides death without.&nbsp;</div><div>Realpolitik and offshore accounts</div><div>are erased like a thumb drive lost in a fire.</div><div><br></div><div>And the friendly crow sets out walnuts to pop under tires.</div><div><br></div><div>So let’s walk the ruins, let’s walk along the ocean</div><div>and listen to death’s undying devotion.<br><br><figure class="attachment attachment--preview" data-trix-attachment="{&quot;contentType&quot;:&quot;image&quot;,&quot;height&quot;:293,&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://media.poetryfoundation.org/m/image/88/Michelle-Boisseau-448.jpg?w=1200&amp;h=1200&amp;fit=max&quot;,&quot;width&quot;:448}" data-trix-content-type="image"><img src="https://media.poetryfoundation.org/m/image/88/Michelle-Boisseau-448.jpg?w=1200&amp;h=1200&amp;fit=max" width="448" height="293"><figcaption class="attachment__caption"></figcaption></figure><br>One of the poems I chose is titled “Death Gets into the Suburbs”. Just by reading the title, i got a general sense of the ideas to come. The suburbs are defined as&nbsp; an outlying district of a city, especially a residential one. Suburbs, to me, symbolize normality, middle class, a close community, and an all around idea of what a typical life is like.</div><div><br></div><div>To sum up, the poem is describing death, who it affects, and the inevitability of it. Death is present in every part of our lives. This ranges from close family members to nearby wilting flower. Death itself comes in many forms. The poem expresses this through saying “There’s death by taxi, by blood clot, by slippery rug. Death by oops and flood, by drone and gun.” Death can strike at anytime and it doesn’t discriminate.</div><div><br></div><div>I felt that the tone of the poem was very accepting and straightforward. The straightforwardness of the poem was shown in the the description of the different types of death. This propels the idea of death taking on many forms. The last stanza expresses the tone of contentedness. Boisseau invites us to calmly walk alongside her and take in the existence of death. Death is something that can never be prevented.&nbsp;</div><div><br></div><div>I noticed Boisseau’s use of repetition in the stanza that explains the forms of death. The word ‘death’ is said over and over again. I felt she used this to show the prevalence and overbearing presence of death in our everyday lives. Death is also given human movements when she writes&nbsp;</div><div>"It sweats into the tongue and groove of redwood decks with a Tahoe view. It slides under the truck where some knuckles are getting banged up on a stuck nut. It whirls in the egg whites. Among blacks and whites spread evenly." This expresses the swiftness of death and how easily it can reach all of us.</div>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2018-03-22 21:09:09 UTC</pubDate>
         <guid>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/245250572</guid>
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         <title>Counting by Michelle Boisseau</title>
         <author>michellealmanza00</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/245267963</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div>After while remembering the men you loved</div><div>is like counting stars.&nbsp;</div><div>From the arbitrary constellations&nbsp;</div><div>you pick out those the brightest. Then the others,</div><div>dimmer and dimmer, till you can't tell if they're real or only reflections&nbsp;</div><div>from your eyes watering with the strain&nbsp;</div><div>The body's memory is a poor thing. Ask the adopted child</div><div>who falls asleep against my steady heart,</div><div>&nbsp;to lullabye in any language.</div><div>Between my first lover who was thin&nbsp;</div><div>and my second who was and nostalgic,&nbsp;</div><div>my arms remember little. Though, yes,&nbsp;</div><div>there was one who had that sweet smell in his skin&nbsp;</div><div>of a child who still drinks nothing&nbsp;</div><div>but milk. A milk ladled out</div><div>by the Big and Little Dippers. If you look up</div><div>long enough into the night sky,&nbsp;</div><div>It becomes sure of itself, and you left sure</div><div>whether you're lying on the lawn, skirt tucked&nbsp;</div><div>against mosquitoes, a cigarette&nbsp;</div><div>about to burn your fingers, or if you're falling, and the sky</div><div>is a net that can't catch you&nbsp;</div><div>since, like everyone else, you are water</div><div>nothing can stop. So you lie on your bed, all night staring at the cracks in the plaster&nbsp;</div><div>terrified of falling through.&nbsp;<br><figure class="attachment attachment--preview" data-trix-attachment="{&quot;contentType&quot;:&quot;image&quot;,&quot;height&quot;:293,&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://media.poetryfoundation.org/m/image/8051/michelle-boisseau.jpg?w=1200&amp;h=1200&amp;fit=max&quot;,&quot;width&quot;:448}" data-trix-content-type="image"><img src="https://media.poetryfoundation.org/m/image/8051/michelle-boisseau.jpg?w=1200&amp;h=1200&amp;fit=max" width="448" height="293"><figcaption class="attachment__caption"></figcaption></figure>The poem I decided to analyze is titled “Counting”. What drew me in was the title of it. It's incredibly simple and leaves a lot of open space for the reader. Open space in the sense that its name doesn't completely give away the ideas included in this poem.&nbsp;</div><div><br></div><div>The poem expresses the author's point of view on the idea of love. As many of us would agree, love is an experience. Those you fall in love with will forever stay with you. This can either be a good or bad thing. You'll remember all of them for all and whatever it is that drew you to them. The poem puts emphasis on expressing the idea that love is confusing. It's not something that is easily forgettable. It leaves us with the highest of highs and the lowest of lows. Love makes us feel like we're on top of the world and then when we least expect it,we come crashing down.</div><div><br></div><div>I felt that the theme of the poem was love and the loss of it. From this I gathered the ideas of confusion and lack of control. Boisseau writes, “The body's memory is a poor thing...and you less sure whether you're lying on the lawn...or if you're falling…” This moment in the poem gave off a feeling of confusion. Confusion about one's own perceptions and their own emotions. The poem states,“...you're falling and the sky is a net that can't catch you since, like everyone else, you are water nothing can stop…” These lines show the helplessness people feel towards the idea of love. “So you lie on your bed, all night staring at the cracks in the plaster,terrified of falling through.” Here, Boisseau further develops the idea of lack of control. She describes the image of someone lying on their bed hoping they won't fall. She shows that they're terrified of the emotions love can bring out in people.&nbsp;</div><div><br></div><div>A few literary elements I picked up on were metaphors, similes, and illusions. Boisseau writes, “...you are water nothing can stop.” This metaphor is used to explain the feeling of hopelessness love create in people. “After a while, remembering the men you loved is like counting stars.” Here, she uses a simile to compare men, or those you loved, to the action of counting stars. The simile works to express the idea that love, and those we fall in love with, will always hold a special place in our thoughts. Boisseau also included an illusion to the Big and Little Dippers. This plays into the presence of stars and constellations. I tied this back to the feeling of lightness we experience when in love.&nbsp;</div><div><br></div><div>What I liked most about this poem was the ending. I felt it did a good job at showing that love isn't always a smooth ride. It's something that can bring out the worst and best in us.&nbsp;</div>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2018-03-22 22:32:18 UTC</pubDate>
         <guid>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/245267963</guid>
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         <title>TIME-rupi kaur</title>
         <author>stephanie_scruggs</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/245294577</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div>        Rise</div><div>  said the moon </div><div>and the new day came </div><div>the show must go on said the sun </div><div>life does not stop for anyone </div><div>it drags you by the legs whether you want to move forward or not</div><div>       that is the gift </div><div>life will force you to forget how you long for them </div><div>Your skin will shed till there is not </div><div>a single of you left they’ve touched </div><div>Your eyes finally just your eyes</div><div>not the eyes which held them</div><div>You will make it to the end </div><div>Of what is only the beginning </div><div>      Go on </div><div>Open the door to the rest of it </div><div><br></div><div>Analysis: </div><div>At the beginning when I read the title I felt that the story would be about the limited time we have or just the time we do have. As I went on and read the poem I figured out that  it was really about how no matter what has happened to you or who has hurt you life keeps going in with time if you pick yourself up you will be exposed to new opportunities. There were some literary elements that really stood out like the personification, visual imagery, and symbolism.   When the poet says “rise said the moon “it was her using personification. When the poet said “the show must go on said the sun” it showed symbolism because the new day symbolizes a new beginning which is  basically what the whole poem was about. When the poet said “your skin will shed till there is not a single part of you left they’ve touched” that showed her using visual imagery. The tone of the poem was very uplifting ,empowering and motivational.  You can really notice the positivity in the poem because it’s very uplifting like when the poet said “you will make it to the end of what is only the beginning” or when  the poet said “open the door to the rest of it”.There is a shift in the poem and he makes the poem even more empowering and makes the reader feel strong it is when the poet says “you will make it to the end”.  The ideas I pulled out of this poem were definitely biorhythm ,self control ,and power.  Rupi kaur  used personification symbolism and visual imagery to depict how the bio rhythm of life with self-control can help you have power over your life to open doors to new opportunities. </div>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2018-03-23 01:21:50 UTC</pubDate>
         <guid>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/245294577</guid>
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         <title></title>
         <author>c_yanneli16</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/245298800</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div><strong><figure class="attachment attachment--preview" data-trix-attachment="{&quot;contentType&quot;:&quot;image&quot;,&quot;height&quot;:300,&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://www.biography.com/.image/ar_1:1%2Cc_fill%2Ccs_srgb%2Cg_face%2Cq_80%2Cw_300/MTQ3NjM5NTA5NjU4Mzc5NjUy/maya_angelou_photo_by_deborah_feingold_corbis_entertainment_getty_533084708.jpg&quot;,&quot;width&quot;:300}" data-trix-content-type="image"><img src="https://www.biography.com/.image/ar_1:1%2Cc_fill%2Ccs_srgb%2Cg_face%2Cq_80%2Cw_300/MTQ3NjM5NTA5NjU4Mzc5NjUy/maya_angelou_photo_by_deborah_feingold_corbis_entertainment_getty_533084708.jpg" width="300" height="300"><figcaption class="attachment__caption"></figcaption></figure></strong></div><h1>Still I Rise</h1><div>BY <a href="https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/maya-angelou">MAYA ANGELOU</a></div><div>You may write me down in history</div><div>With your bitter, twisted lies,</div><div>You may trod me in the very dirt</div><div>But still, like dust, I'll rise.</div><div><br></div><div>Does my sassiness upset you?</div><div>Why are you beset with gloom?</div><div>’Cause I walk like I've got oil wells</div><div>Pumping in my living room.</div><div><br></div><div>Just like moons and like suns,</div><div>With the certainty of tides,</div><div>Just like hopes springing high,</div><div>Still I'll rise.</div><div><br></div><div>Did you want to see me broken?</div><div>Bowed head and lowered eyes?</div><div>Shoulders falling down like teardrops,</div><div>Weakened by my soulful cries?</div><div><br></div><div>Does my haughtiness offend you?</div><div>Don't you take it awful hard</div><div>’Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines</div><div>Diggin’ in my own backyard.</div><div><br></div><div>You may shoot me with your words,</div><div>You may cut me with your eyes,</div><div>You may kill me with your hatefulness,</div><div>But still, like air, I’ll rise.</div><div><br></div><div>Does my sexiness upset you?</div><div>Does it come as a surprise</div><div>That I dance like I've got diamonds</div><div>At the meeting of my thighs?</div><div><br></div><div>Out of the huts of history’s shame</div><div>I rise</div><div>Up from a past that’s rooted in pain</div><div>I rise</div><div>I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,</div><div>Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.</div><div><br></div><div>Leaving behind nights of terror and fear</div><div>I rise</div><div>Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear</div><div>I rise</div><div>Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,</div><div>I am the dream and the hope of the slave.</div><div>I rise</div><div>I rise</div><div>I rise.</div><div>- The main theme in this poem is that no matter what happens or what is thrown at Maya Angelou, she will always rise. It's really about self respect and confidence. Here she reveals how she will overcome anything with her self-esteem. She shows how nothing can get her down. Three ideas I saw where slavery, oppression, and history. Which they all tie together there was slavery in history and this poem is like a motivation that no matter what brings you down there is something that will motivate you to push through and rise. It is a reminder of the abuse of power by those who sit in government, the judiciary, in the military and in the police force. For the public, society it sends out a clear message of hope no matter the circumstances, there must always be hope to cling on to. Simile was shown for example in "but still, like dust I'll rise", the imagery was the picture of the rising cloud of dust in the mind.<br><br><br></div><h1>Caged Bird</h1><div>BY <a href="https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/maya-angelou">MAYA ANGELOU</a></div><div>A free bird leaps</div><div>on the back of the wind&nbsp; &nbsp;</div><div>and floats downstream&nbsp; &nbsp;</div><div>till the current ends</div><div>and dips his wing</div><div>in the orange sun rays</div><div>and dares to claim the sky.</div><div><br></div><div>But a bird that stalks</div><div>down his narrow cage</div><div>can seldom see through</div><div>his bars of rage</div><div>his wings are clipped and&nbsp; &nbsp;</div><div>his feet are tied</div><div>so he opens his throat to sing.</div><div><br></div><div>The caged bird sings&nbsp; &nbsp;</div><div>with a fearful trill&nbsp; &nbsp;</div><div>of things unknown&nbsp; &nbsp;</div><div>but longed for still&nbsp; &nbsp;</div><div>and his tune is heard&nbsp; &nbsp;</div><div>on the distant hill&nbsp; &nbsp;</div><div>for the caged bird&nbsp; &nbsp;</div><div>sings of freedom.</div><div><br></div><div>The free bird thinks of another breeze</div><div>and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees</div><div>and the fat worms waiting on a dawn bright lawn</div><div>and he names the sky his own</div><div><br></div><div>But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams&nbsp; &nbsp;</div><div>his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream&nbsp; &nbsp;</div><div>his wings are clipped and his feet are tied&nbsp; &nbsp;</div><div>so he opens his throat to sing.</div><div><br></div><div>The caged bird sings&nbsp; &nbsp;</div><div>with a fearful trill&nbsp; &nbsp;</div><div>of things unknown&nbsp; &nbsp;</div><div>but longed for still&nbsp; &nbsp;</div><div>and his tune is heard&nbsp; &nbsp;</div><div>on the distant hill&nbsp; &nbsp;</div><div>for the caged bird&nbsp; &nbsp;</div><div>sings of freedom.</div><div>&nbsp; - This poem uses metaphor an juxtaposition to express the idea that freedom is a natural state and knowledge of this fact cannot be undone by any amount of oppression, imprisonment or limitation of opportunity. In the poem, the free bird has power and "names the sky his own" while acting on inborn impulses to fly and float on the sky. The language and imagery surrounding the free bird is soft and also indicative of authority, innate rights and self-ownership. Three ideas were Angelou describes the joy that free bird takes in the soaring through the sky. The describes a bird that has been caged, its feet tied and wings clipped. The caged bird rails against its imprisonment. In spite of its fear, it sings of freedom.</div><div><br></div>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2018-03-23 01:43:07 UTC</pubDate>
         <guid>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/245298800</guid>
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         <title>Rupi kaur</title>
         <author>stephanie_scruggs</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/245313518</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div>Father. You always call to say nothing in particular . that you </div><div>ask what I’m doing or where I am and when the silence</div><div> stretches like a lifetime between us I scramble to find </div><div>questions to keep the conversation going. What I long to </div><div>say most is. I understand this world broke you. It has </div><div>been so hard on your feet I don’t blame you for not </div><div>knowing how to remain soft with me. Sometimes I stay</div><div> up thinking of all the places you’re hurting that you </div><div>Will never care to mention. I come from the same </div><div>aching blood. From the same bone so desperate for </div><div>attention I collapse in on myself. I am your daughter. I </div><div>know the Small talk is the only way you know how to </div><div>tell me you love me. Because it is the only way I know </div><div>how to tell you.</div><div> Analysis: some people show love in different ways and it still might hurt others unintentionally. Communication is key! The literary elements are found in this poem were empathy, symbolism, and hyperbole. The quote that are used as an example for the hyperbole was "stretches like a lifetime” which is over exaggerated. "I understand this world broke you. It has been so hard on your feet I don’t blame you for not knowing how to remain soft with me “ is an example for the empathy the poet uses to really make the reader feel what she is going through. " the small talk is the only way you know how to tell me” is Symbolism and the phone calls are symbolic to their love that they do not physically show to each other. The tone is sad, negative ,and oppressive. The poet uses a shift to kinda change the subject and try to relate to her dad “ I am your daughter.” The ideas I pulled from the poem were desperation, desire, and detachment. Rupi kaur uses empathy, symbolism, and hyperbole to depict how The detachment the author feels creates a desperation for attention from the father that grows into a desire to be connected to her father. </div>]]></description>
         <enclosure url="https://padlet-uploads.storage.googleapis.com/270953625/092ec80ae95001890683376e47db5c97/media.jpeg" />
         <pubDate>2018-03-23 03:21:59 UTC</pubDate>
         <guid>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/245313518</guid>
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         <title></title>
         <author>averyll0914</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/245336051</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div><a href="https://padlet.com/averyll0914/fnh6k3kdxv5s">https://padlet.com/averyll0914/fnh6k3kdxv5s</a></div>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2018-03-23 07:10:07 UTC</pubDate>
         <guid>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/245336051</guid>
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         <title>Annabel Lee</title>
         <author>natalieaguirre1106</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/247101338</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<h1>Annabel Lee</h1><div>BY <a href="https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/edgar-allan-poe">EDGAR ALLAN POE</a></div><div>It was many and many a year ago, </div><div>   In a kingdom by the sea, </div><div>That a maiden there lived whom you may know </div><div>   By the name of Annabel Lee; </div><div>And this maiden she lived with no other thought </div><div>   Than to love and be loved by me. </div><div><br></div><div><em>I</em> was a child and <em>she</em> was a child, </div><div>   In this kingdom by the sea, </div><div>But we loved with a love that was more than love— </div><div>   I and my Annabel Lee— </div><div>With a love that the wingèd seraphs of Heaven </div><div>   Coveted her and me. </div><div><br></div><div>And this was the reason that, long ago, </div><div>   In this kingdom by the sea, </div><div>A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling </div><div>   My beautiful Annabel Lee; </div><div>So that her highborn kinsmen came </div><div>   And bore her away from me, </div><div>To shut her up in a sepulchre </div><div>   In this kingdom by the sea. </div><div><br></div><div>The angels, not half so happy in Heaven, </div><div>   Went envying her and me— </div><div>Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know, </div><div>   In this kingdom by the sea) </div><div>That the wind came out of the cloud by night, </div><div>   Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee. </div><div><br></div><div>But our love it was stronger by far than the love </div><div>   Of those who were older than we— </div><div>   Of many far wiser than we— </div><div>And neither the angels in Heaven above </div><div>   Nor the demons down under the sea </div><div>Can ever dissever my soul from the soul </div><div>   Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; </div><div><br></div><div>For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams </div><div>   Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; </div><div>And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes </div><div>   Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; </div><div>And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side </div><div>   Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride, </div><div>   In her sepulchre there by the sea— </div><div>   In her tomb by the sounding sea.<br><br>Littery analysis<br>Annabel Lee is a dark poem with hypnotic rhyme and song like rhyme. The overall theme of this poem is that true love is able to transcend death. The rhyme scene is ababcb there are in rhyming end words in each stanza. The letter is dum da da dum da da dum da dum . the ideas ate desire romance list innocent death. The poem overall is very Gothic and mystery's. The liary devices are imegry alliteration and repation . <br><br><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2018-03-28 23:28:55 UTC</pubDate>
         <guid>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/247101338</guid>
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         <title>Romance </title>
         <author>natalieaguirre1106</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/247107577</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<h1>Romance</h1><div>BY <a href="https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/edgar-allan-poe">EDGAR ALLAN POE</a></div><div>Romance, who loves to nod and sing,&nbsp;</div><div>With drowsy head and folded wing,&nbsp;</div><div>Among the green leaves as they shake&nbsp;</div><div>Far down within some shadowy lake,&nbsp;</div><div>To me a painted paroquet&nbsp;</div><div>Hath been—a most familiar bird—&nbsp;</div><div>Taught me my alphabet to say—&nbsp;</div><div>To lisp my very earliest word&nbsp;</div><div>While in the wild wood I did lie,&nbsp;</div><div>A child—with a most knowing eye.&nbsp;</div><div>Of late, eternal Condor years&nbsp;</div><div>So shake the very Heaven on high&nbsp;</div><div>With tumult as they thunder by,&nbsp;</div><div>I have no time for idle cares&nbsp;</div><div>Through gazing on the unquiet sky.&nbsp;</div><div>And when an hour with calmer wings&nbsp;</div><div>Its down upon my spirit flings—&nbsp;</div><div>That little time with lyre and rhyme&nbsp;</div><div>To while away—forbidden things!&nbsp;</div><div>My heart would feel to be a crime&nbsp;</div><div>Unless it trembled with the strings.&nbsp;</div><div><br><br>With reading the tittle I thought it would be about rommonce or a relationship some sortof love. But once reading I came to realise that he uses a bird to describe love well he gives romance bird like characteristic. At first it is more of a reflection of love as a small like loving bird a pet bird like a perekeet. As it continued is changes to a big scary bord and that's the being of the shift . the oberal theme is that reality is not an innocent world filled with lovelennes it a harsh world. The shyme scheme and stricter is next and the structure is AABB the poem uses aiambic and tetrametter . and stressed syllables and the use of only musculin hyme and one case of internal rhyme. some litery elements are onomatopea symbolism alitteration. And the ideas are isolation romance cruelty and reality </div>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2018-03-29 00:17:30 UTC</pubDate>
         <guid>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/247107577</guid>
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         <title>Cathy Song </title>
         <author>samanthamata73</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/247117935</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div>The Kindness of Others<br>BY CATHY SONG<br>The kindness of others<br>is all they ever wanted,<br>the laughter of neighbors<br>prospering in the blue light of summer.<br><br>Those of the small sputtering flame<br>and the sudden white sprung hair,<br>who feed off envy and grow old quickly,<br>desire largesse.<br><br>The role of poor relation<br>evokes a lack<br>they are not apt to admit,<br>or unbearable pity.<br><br>They prefer to penetrate the giver’s<br>effortless knack of giving<br>they perceive as vitality,<br>a pulsating entity<br><br>that rewards the kindness of others<br>tenfold.<br>This they have witnessed.<br>This they have tabulated relentlessly.<br><br>The generosity of others<br>whose spirits, like their long-legged<br>children blossoming into a progeny<br>of orchards and fields, flourish.<br><br>Those who have never known kindness<br>drag into the privacy of their smallness<br>the baskets of fruit<br>appearing year after year on their porches,<br><br>to be picked apart<br>in the hushed posture of thieves.<br>They peel skin, probe flesh<br>the color of honey<br><br>as if the seeds will yield something<br>other than a glimmer of sweet air<br>rising from the roots of trees<br>and licorice-laced, half-opened leaves.<br><br>Those of the small flame,<br>who feed off envy and grow old quickly,<br>live out their lives<br>hungry,<br><br>glaring at themselves across the table,<br>wife of the cruel mouth,<br>husband of the thin broth<br>trickling like spittle. Analysis:<br>In “The Kindness of Others,” Cathy Song shows how everyone, young or old, must be kind and generous to everyone through free verse and imagery. She explains how children are only nice to people if they are receiving gifts, but the children never give to others. This leads to her saying, sooner or later, they won’t be receivers since they were never givers. “Those of the small flame/who feed off envy and grow old quickly/ live out their lives/ hungry/ Glaring at themselves across the table/ wife of the cruel mouth/ husband of the thin broth/ trickling like spittle.” This quote is a very obvious stab at the ones who expect to just keep receiving kindness when they don’t give it. As they grow older, they never realize what they are doing wrong and just live their life desiring the kindness of others. Those lines from the poem also depict Song’s style of poetry. She uses free verse to really get the meaning out of what she wants people to see. Song also really throws in a lot of imagery into this poem. “To be picked apart/ in the hushed posture of thieves/ they peel skin, probe flesh/ the color of honey” She uses imagery in this to allow people to see that not being kind to people can cause others to be rude to you, too. Through Song’s free verse and imagery, she really gets out the meaning behind being kind to others and how important it is in the long run. <br><a href="https://www.itemlive.com/2018/03/30/swampscott-school-kids-learn-lesson-kindness/">https://www.itemlive.com/2018/03/30/swampscott-school-kids-learn-lesson-kindness/</a><br><br></div>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2018-03-29 01:27:17 UTC</pubDate>
         <guid>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/247117935</guid>
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         <title>Cathy Song </title>
         <author>samanthamata73</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/247118134</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div>Spaces We Leave Empty<br>BY CATHY SONG<br>The jade slipped from my wrist<br>with the smoothness of water<br>leaving the mountains,<br><br>silk falling from a shoulder,<br>melon slices sliding across the tongue,<br>the fish returning.<br><br>The bracelet worn since my first birthday<br>cracked into thousand-year-old eggshells.<br>The sound could be heard<br>ringing across the water<br><br>where my mother woke in her sleep crying thief.<br>Her nightgown slapped in the wind<br>as he howled clutching his hoard.<br><br>The cultured pearls.<br>The bone flutes.<br>The peppermint disks of jade.<br><br>The clean hole<br>in the center, Heaven:<br>the spaces we left empty.&nbsp; Literacy Analysis: Spaces we Leave Open by Cathy Song, the title in my opinion is meaning the space she has between her and her mother and herself. This poem is set to have may literacy elements like metaphors, similes, diction, alliteration, and much more, But overall, it’s about something being taken away from her. Maybe something that her mother might have disapproved of. From my perspective I fee like the poem is very erotic maybe because I’m bent and twisted. In the title "Spaces we leave empty" she may also be referencing how amazing it is that God molds us to long, desire, &amp; lust. For if we were whole to begin with, we could never feel the joy that comes with being completed. This could also be a rebellion against conventionality. The entire purpose of this piece could perhaps be to question why society is so very prudish. This could be her step to leading society into a sexual revolution.&nbsp; "Cultured pearls, bones flutes, peppermint disks of jade." Description of the bracelet and also perhaps, of the woman before the act. Pearls can symbolize being proper. The authors Chinese heritage further supports this idea. In China Jade can symbolize moral integrity &amp; perfection. "The jade slipped from my wrist" This could symbolize that family bound her, cultural, or religious expectations. As if the bracelet imprisoned her, like handcuffs or chains. When it slips off she is free. "The bracelet worn since my first birthday cracked into thousand-year-old eggshells. The sound could be heard ringing across the water" Obviously, she was born free of sin. Sexual expression, especially outside of marriage is often considered sin. Thousand-year-old eggshells symbolizes human nature &amp; our desire, the fact that this has been happening since the dawn of time. If the sound is ringing across the water it's not necessarily a loud encounter between lovers, this means that the experience is profound. If it is ringing across the water, it will have a rippling effect. It will change her life. This could certainly relate to the loss of one's virginity.<br><a href="https://www.sfchronicle.com/bayarea/article/Advocates-advice-for-immigrants-If-ICE-12789467.php">https://www.sfchronicle.com/bayarea/article/Advocates-advice-for-immigrants-If-ICE-12789467.php</a></div>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2018-03-29 01:28:23 UTC</pubDate>
         <guid>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/247118134</guid>
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         <title>The Span of Life </title>
         <author>bilesnicole12</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/247129201</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div>By; Robert Frost<br><br>The old dog barks backwards without getting up.<br>I can remember when he was a pup.<br><br></div><div>Nicole Biles</div>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2018-03-29 02:59:12 UTC</pubDate>
         <guid>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/247129201</guid>
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         <title>sabrina benaim</title>
         <author>averyll0914</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/247140268</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div><a href="https://padlet.com/averyll0914/fnh6k3kdxv5s">https://padlet.com/averyll0914/fnh6k3kdxv5s</a></div>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2018-03-29 04:58:17 UTC</pubDate>
         <guid>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/247140268</guid>
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         <title>Fire and Ice </title>
         <author>bilesnicole12</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/247140976</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div>BY <a href="https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/robert-frost">ROBERT FROST</a></div><div>Some say the world will end in fire,</div><div>Some say in ice.</div><div>From what I’ve tasted of desire</div><div>I hold with those who favor fire.</div><div>But if it had to perish twice,</div><div>I think I know enough of hate</div><div>To say that for destruction ice</div><div>Is also great</div><div>And would suffice.<br><br>Nicole Biles</div>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2018-03-29 05:07:25 UTC</pubDate>
         <guid>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/247140976</guid>
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         <title>When You Thought Me Poor</title>
         <author>jiaenzeng</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/247223793</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div><strong>BY Alice Walker</strong><br><br>When you thought me poor,<br>my poverty was shaming.<br>When blackness was unwelcome<br>we found it best<br>that I stay home.<br><br>When by the miracle<br>of fierce dreaming and hard work<br>Life fulfilled our every want<br>you found me crassly<br>well off;&nbsp;<br>not trimly,<br>inconspicuously wealthy<br>like your rich friends.<br><br>Still black too,<br>now<br>I owned too much and too many<br>of everything.<br><br>Woe is me: I became a<br>success! Blackness, who<br>knows how?&nbsp;<br>Became suddenly<br>in!&nbsp;<br><br>What to do?&nbsp;<br>Now that Fate appears<br>(for the moment anyhow)&nbsp;<br>to have dismissed<br>abject failure<br>in any case?&nbsp;<br>Now that moonlight and night<br>have blessed me.<br><br>Now that the sun<br>unaffected by criticism<br>of any sort,<br>implacably beams<br>the kiss filled magic that creates<br>the dark and radiant wonder<br>of my face.&nbsp;</div><div><br><br>Literary Analysis-<br>When You Thought Me Poor is a free verse style poem, there is no rhyme nor structure. There are six stanzas. Each stanza shows a different stage of the overall story, each line is short so walker can get in her points. The tone of the poem change throughout each stanza, however, the overall tone is challenging and rebellious through to the racist society. She writes “my poverty was shaming. When blackness was unwelcome.” Here, Walker shows racism by use words such as “shaming” “ blackness” to emphasize their social status. Next, Walker use diction and details to show unequal in the society.&nbsp; Walker’s choice of words “the miracle of fierce dreaming” (line 6-7 ) to provide readers a better understanding of the society that people only see what it want to see. Furthermore, she also points out how rich is expected to be rich, and the poor are supposed to be poor. she writes “inconspicuously wealthy, like your rich friends. Here “rich friends” refer to are the social majority which is unequal compared to the narrator. They are known as poor in the society because the society has predetermined who they are. Continually Walker begins to criticise the society by using rhetorical question to emphasize her point. She writes “ Blackness, who knows how?” (Line 19-20) here, she explains how people have to work so hard compared to other in order to gain their status in the society. <br>&nbsp; The end of the stanza, Walker introduces a new theme- Fate. The narrator begins to wonder what is their plan for their new freedom. She writes “abject failure, in any case? Now that moonlight and night…”&nbsp; she uses imagery to illustrate the shift after they gain protection through social equality.<br>Overall, Walker's main purpose is&nbsp; to show how the society mistreated the black people and their disadvantage, and to fight for their right and equality.<br><br><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alice_Walker#/media/File:Alice_Walker.jpg">https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alice_Walker#/media/File:Alice_Walker.jpg</a><br><br></div>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2018-03-29 12:49:21 UTC</pubDate>
         <guid>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/247223793</guid>
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         <title>We Alone</title>
         <author>jiaenzeng</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/247226794</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div>BY Alice Walker<br><br></div><div><br>We alone can devalue gold&nbsp;<br>by not caring&nbsp;<br>if it falls or rises&nbsp;<br>in the marketplace.&nbsp;<br>Wherever there is gold&nbsp;<br>there is a chain, you know,&nbsp;<br>and if your chain&nbsp;<br>is gold&nbsp;<br>so much the worse&nbsp;<br>for you.</div><div><br>Feathers, shells&nbsp;<br>and sea-shaped stones&nbsp;<br>are all as rare.</div><div><br>This could be our revolution: <br>to love what is plentiful <br>as much as <br>what's scarce.<br><br><br><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alice_Walker#/media/File:Alice_Walker.jpg">https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alice_Walker#/media/File:Alice_Walker.jpg</a><br><br><br>Literary Analysis-&nbsp;<br>When I first read the title of the poem, I thought the poem is focus on isolation and restriction, but as I further analyze the poem, I came to a conclusion that “We Alone” is&nbsp; focus more on value and materialistic. It’s about how human put values on objects. Walker explains that people should love their family, friends instead of diamonds and gold. The main purpose of this poem is to emphasize the importance of love and the true value of life. Walker begins We Alone with a powerful statement to grabs the reader's attention and to emphasize her message to the society. Similar to her other poems, she didn’t use a lot of complicated words, instead her diction is much simpler compare to other poets. However Walker uses literary elements throughout the poem, first, she uses symbolism. Inline 5-6, she writes “wherever there is gold, there is a chain, you know” Here the chain symbolizes gold, which people don't realize the true value of it. Furthermore Alice also use irony when she writes about gold because gold is supposed to be something good, something has such high value; however, Alice describes gold as something bad, something that holds people down because of its value. Furthermore walker uses alliteration to emphasize the theme and to develop the tone of the poem. She writes “Feathers, shells, and sea-shaped stones, are all as rare” Line 12-13. The tone of the poem is hopeful and optimistic, because she hope that people will change their view on true value.&nbsp;<br>&nbsp; &nbsp; We Alone is one of my favorite poem, I totally agree with Alice Walker. People should appreciate everything they have and be thankful. But in today’s society, people are more materialistic, they are more into expensive objects instead of their family and friends.&nbsp;</div>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2018-03-29 12:57:32 UTC</pubDate>
         <guid>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/247226794</guid>
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         <title>Second Padlet Post (1) By Jezreel</title>
         <author>itsbowersj</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/247394384</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div><br><strong>i Evacuation<br></strong><br></div><div>As we boarded the bus<br><br></div><div>bags on both sides<br><br></div><div>(I had never packed<br><br></div><div>two bags before<br><br></div><div>on a vacation<br><br></div><div>lasting forever)<br><br></div><div>the Seattle Times<br><br></div><div>photographer said<br><br></div><div>Smile!<br><br></div><div>so obediently I smiled<br><br></div><div>and the caption the next day<br><br></div><div>read:<br><br></div><div>Note smiling faces<br><br></div><div>a lesson to Tokyo.<br><br><br><br></div>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2018-03-29 20:26:28 UTC</pubDate>
         <guid>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/247394384</guid>
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         <title>Second Padlet Post (2) By Jezreel </title>
         <author>itsbowersj</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/247395270</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div><strong>Recruiting Team<br></strong><br></div><div>Why should I volunteer?<br><br></div><div>I'm an American<br><br></div><div>I have a right to be<br><br></div><div>drafted.<br><br></div><div><br><br></div>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2018-03-29 20:32:12 UTC</pubDate>
         <guid>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/247395270</guid>
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         <title>Bad News by Michelle Boisseau</title>
         <author>michellealmanza00</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/247428702</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div><figure class="attachment attachment--preview" data-trix-attachment="{&quot;contentType&quot;:&quot;image&quot;,&quot;height&quot;:293,&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://media.poetryfoundation.org/m/image/8051/michelle-boisseau.jpg?w=1200&amp;h=1200&amp;fit=max&quot;,&quot;width&quot;:448}" data-trix-content-type="image"><img src="https://media.poetryfoundation.org/m/image/8051/michelle-boisseau.jpg?w=1200&amp;h=1200&amp;fit=max" width="448" height="293"><figcaption class="attachment__caption"></figcaption></figure>And I'm caught in the bubble now, glass house&nbsp;</div><div>floating with me inside. My sister's voice&nbsp;</div><div>has sudden silver Contours through the phone,&nbsp;</div><div>cranks, slopes, a stream that seems to be&nbsp;</div><div>clattering over gravel. Not yet, the bubble says&nbsp;</div><div><br></div><div>because it's disposition is to tease-</div><div>&nbsp;iridescent, surface tension, aloft.&nbsp;</div><div>This one will make the fence and keep on going.&nbsp;</div><div>And then this moment, which moments from now&nbsp;</div><div>will seem so strangely smooth, breaks into pieces</div><div>&nbsp;</div><div>like a windshield, Square tears of safety glass&nbsp;</div><div>raining down, a puddle of block type to set&nbsp;</div><div>the newspapers of the dead. No more passage.&nbsp;</div><div>His young doctor was wrong. There wasn't time&nbsp;</div><div>enough to see my father again.&nbsp;</div><div><br>Commentary:<br>One of the poems I chose is titled Bad News by Michelle Boisseau. From reading the title, I felt that the poem would have to do with ideas of negativity, darkness, and harsh realities.&nbsp;</div><div><br></div><div>To sum up, the poem describes the experience of dealing with the death of a loved one. Particularly, the emotions someone feels when they are just told the ‘bad news’.</div><div><br></div><div>I noticed that she made use of literary elements like metaphors and personification. The bubble is an extended metaphor or conceit. It’s being compared to the feelings of despair when someone is given devastating news. The bubble is also personified when&nbsp; the author writes “Not yet, the bubble says…”</div><div><br></div><div>I felt that the tone of the poem was very dark. It gave off feelings of uncertainty, distress, and submissiveness. The voice of the poem was very straightforward, serious, and passionate. The poet made an effort to express the&nbsp; feelings of distress people feel when faced with difficult situations. The feeling of submissiveness and uncertainty came from&nbsp; the lack of action taken by the speaker. They made no effort to avoid the despair caused by death. The poem didn't dance around the emotions caused by the loss of a loved one. It detailed some of the feelings felt by those who have had to deal with some ‘bad news’.</div><div><br></div><div>I noticed an abrupt shift in the second stanza. The first stanza focused on what was happening in the moment and the second stanza shifted to the emotions being&nbsp; brought up because of the situation. I felt that this shift could symbolize the sudden and quick change of emotions that a&nbsp; distressing situation can cause.</div><div><br></div><div>From the poem, I gathered the ideas of grief, death, and lack of control. Grief is shown throughout the whole experience that the speaker is facing. They have to deal with the rush of emotions after being told about&nbsp; the passing of a loved one. Lack of control is shown when Boisseau writes “And I'm caught in the bubble now…” This line expresses the feeling of being trapped and surrounded by despair.&nbsp;</div>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2018-03-30 03:54:15 UTC</pubDate>
         <guid>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/247428702</guid>
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         <title>Adrian&#39;s padlet post #1</title>
         <author>adriannnnn</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/247515602</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div><strong>Requiescat<br>by Oscar Wilde </strong><br>Tread lightly, she is near<br>Under the snow,<br>Speak gently, she can hear<br>The daisies grow.<br>All her bright golden hair<br>Tarnished with rust,<br>She that was young and fair<br>Fallen to dust.<br>Lily-like, white as snow,<br>She hardly knew<br>She was a woman, so<br>Sweetly she grew.<br>Coffin-board, heavy stone,<br>Lie on her breast,<br>I vex my heart alone,<br>She is at rest.<br>Peace, Peace, she cannot hear<br>Lyre or sonnet,<br>All my life's buried here,<br>Heap earth upon it.<br><br><br>.....<br>This poem puts me in a deep dark depression but it's almost as if i need it. I did a bit of research behind why he wrote Requiescat and it turns out Oscar Wilde wrote this for his sister who died at a fairly young age. The theme of Premature Death gives the poem greater meaning in my opinion, It gives his sister a sense of lost potential and what could have arrived from her life. The first impression that was made on me comes from the first stanza when the poet says “Tread lightly, she is near..Under the snow”, this gave me chills, because it almost implies that although she is gone, she still there, present, beneath the ground, waiting for her family or waiting to make meaning of her life.The poet then goes on to say “Speak gently, she can hear. The Daisies grow.” The jump from winter to spring, made me feel as thought Wilde’s young sister is stuck in time, everything around her is changing, growing, full of life, but she is left there unchanged, which reflects Wilde’s feelings of death. </div><div>You can really tell Wilde admired his sister’s beauty in the second stanza and feels destroyed of what has become of her. Her once “bright golden hair “ is now “tarnished with rust” and while she was “young and fair” she has now “fallen to dust”.This is very raw of Oscar Wilde to do, he is acknowledging the ugly truth of what has become of his sister. </div><div>  The third stanza for me really speaks to me on how young and innocent his sister was, he compares her to snow which implies her purity and then he goes on to say “she hardly knew she was a woman, so sweetly she grew” that right there lets you know that her death was before her time. Which provokes more sorrow in anyone who has lost a person they love, especially if it was before their time .<br>Another very important aspect, Oscar Wilde implies is The effect it has on those left to mourn the death of a loved one. This shift is notable in the finale two stanzas, He no longer describes his admiration of his sister, instead he goes on to say what is left of the situation. Oscar wilde may “lie on her breast”  but he knows he vexes his heart alone. My understanding of this stanza is that he is acknowledging his sister is gone and isn't coming back. Oscar Wilde also acknowledges that there is nothing he can do, when he finishes the poem with “ all my life's buried here, Heap earth upon it.”. This poem is great poem that provokes many feeling of sadness and lost potential, Oscar Wilde was able to show how death can affect the person who has lost their life and also how it affects the people left to mourn them which is rarely done. </div>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2018-03-30 16:12:58 UTC</pubDate>
         <guid>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/247515602</guid>
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         <title>Adrian&#39;s padlet post #2</title>
         <author>adriannnnn</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/247535726</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div><strong>Her Voice <br>by Oscar Wilde <br></strong>THE wild bee reels from bough to bough<br> With his furry coat and his gauzy wing.<br> Now in a lily-cup, and now<br> Setting a jacinth bell a-swing,<br> In his wandering;<br> Sit closer love: it was here I trow<br> I made that vow,<br> Swore that two lives should be like one<br> As long as the sea-gull loved the sea,<br> As long as the sunflower sought the sun,--<br> It shall be, I said, for eternity<br> 'Twixt you and me!<br> Dear friend, those times are over and done,<br> Love's web is spun.<br> Look upward where the poplar trees<br> Sway and sway in the summer air,<br> Here in the valley never a breeze<br> Scatters the thistledown, but there<br> Great winds blow fair<br> From the mighty murmuring mystical seas,<br> And the wave-lashed leas.<br> Look upward where the white gull screams,<br> What does it see that we do not see?<br> Is that a star? or the lamp that gleams<br> On some outward voyaging argosy,--<br> Ah! can it be<br> We have lived our lives in a land of dreams!<br> How sad it seems.<br> Sweet, there is nothing left to say<br> But this, that love is never lost,<br> Keen winter stabs the breasts of May<br> Whose crimson roses burst his frost,<br> Ships tempest-tossed<br> Will find a harbour in some bay,<br> And so we may.<br>And there is nothing left to do<br> But to kiss once again, and part,<br> Nay, there is nothing we should rue,<br> I have my beauty,--you your Art,<br> Nay, do not start,<br> One world was not enough for two<br> Like me and you.<br><br><br><br>.....<br>Her voice by Oscar Wilde is a beautiful poem about the hardships that come with falling in love. I really enjoyed this poem, because it shows that being in love isn't always sunshine and flowers and people change and so do feelings. More importantly Oscar wilde shows that falling out of love is okay.  This poem is written in the point of view of a woman, who once was in lust for her significant other but is now full regret and confusion .</div><div>The Poem begins by taking us back to the day they tied the knot “sit closer love: it was here i Trow / I made that vow. “  Assuming this is a conversation with her husband she’s trying to bring back the moment they made a life changing decision,these were the happy times, the times when things seemed promising. </div><div>The second stanza, shows that the couple thought their love would last forever , “As long as the sea-gull loved the sea, As long as the sunflower sought the sun,” this simile makes their love for eachother seem unbreakable, never ending. However I noticed a shift, when the speaker says, “Dear friend, those times are over and done, Love's web is spun.” Her referring to her husband, as a “dear friend”  shows thats while those feeling may be long gone, she still has a sense of respect of what was of their relationship.</div><div> I also got a sense of  the speaker wishing the best for what the future holds for her husband,  instead of hoping he lives a miserable life, she keeps him optimistic by saying “look upward where the white gull screams,/What does it see that we do not see?” I get the sense that the speaker wants her husband to do some exploring in hopes of finding his true self . This being an Oscar wilde poem , I can only assume self discovery and authenticity, has something to do with why their relationship didn't work out. </div><div>The last two stanzas really speak to me the, speaker shows that although they may not be the right one for each there’s someone out there that will love you for you . The speaker acknowledges that they have done everything they can to try and make things work, But sometimes what's best is letting go. </div><div>The last two couplets are my favorite, “I have my beauty,--you your Art,/ Nay, do not start,/ One world was not enough for two/ Like me and you. “ It ties everything so beautifully, it shows how love is bittersweet and it also reassures that these two will be just fine on their own.</div><div><br></div>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2018-03-30 18:08:40 UTC</pubDate>
         <guid>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/247535726</guid>
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         <title>Garrett&#39;s Padlet post #1</title>
         <author>garrettmeier13</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/247725859</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div><strong>This Poem is for Deer<br>By Gary Snyder</strong><br><br><br></div><div>I dance on all the mountains<br>On five mountains I have a&nbsp; dancing place <br>When they shoot at me I run<br>To my five mountains<br><br>Missed a last shot<br>At the buck, in twilight<br>So we came back sliding<br>On dry needles through cold pines.<br>Scared out a cottontail<br>Whipped up the Winchester<br>Shot off its head.<br>The white body roles and twitches<br>In the dark ravine<br>As we run down the hill to the car.<br><br>Deer foot down scree<br>Picasso's fawn, Issa's fawn,<br>Deer on the autumn mountain<br>Howling like a wise man<br>Stiff springy jumps down the snowfields<br>Heads held back, forefeet out,<br>Balls tight in a tough hair sack<br>Keeping the human soul from care<br>On the autumn mountain<br>Standing in the late sun, ear flick<br>Tail flick, gold mist of flies<br>Whirling from nostril to eyes<br><br>Home by night<br>Drunken eye<br>Still picks out Taurus<br>Low, and growling high:<br>four point buck<br>Dancing in the headlights<br>on the lonely road<br>A mile past the mill-pond,<br>With the car stopped, shot<br>That wild silly blinded creature down.<br><br>Pull out the hot guts with hard bare hands<br>while night-frost chills the tongue and eye&nbsp; <br>The cold horn bones.<br>The hunter's belt<br>just below the sky<br>Warm blood in the car trunk.<br>Deer smell,<br>the limp tongue.<br><br>Deer don't want to die for me.<br>I'll drink sea water<br>Sleep on beach pebbles in the rain<br>Until the deer come down to die<br>in pity for my pain.<br><br>...................................................<br><br>Even though I may be a very "set in stone" kind of person, I enjoy seeing things from the opposite perspective. Doing this allows for an expanded point of view and for conversations that further both individual's mindset. Being an avid hunter and outdoorsman, reading and studying this poem definitely intrigues me and makes me think. The main aspect of the poem that jumps out at me is Snyder's use of explicit and graphic imagery. From experience, everything noted is accurate and the details are precise. It's clear that Snyder has seen firsthand what he describes and uses these points to further his argument. Snyder is an avid environmental activist and humanitarian with a in-depth knowledge of the natural world. It's clear that he writes this poem in order to show how human's actions affect wildlife and ultimately leave a negative impact on the world around us. This is evident through his shift from both the deer's point of view to the hunter's point of view. This allows for the reader to both identify with the hunter's excitement, as well as the deer's suffering.The deer is portrayed almost as another human through the use of personification in the first stanza, which is, I'm sure, Snyder's way of having the reader connect with it on a personal level and intensify the feelings felt toward the hunter. Another interesting shift is that present in the final stanza. Snyder begins to use the first person point of view for himself, describing the actions, be them not literal, he would do himself. Overall, I greatly enjoyed breaking this poem down and seeing its heavy undertones of human interaction with nature and the negative effects it has. His uses of imagery and personification are evident in many of his poems and he uses them masterfully in order convey his ideas and most certainly should be studied by students to further their descriptive writing skills and help them build thought provoking arguments that can stand up to another's criticism. <figure class="attachment attachment--preview" data-trix-attachment="{&quot;contentType&quot;:&quot;image&quot;,&quot;height&quot;:579,&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://gohunt-assets-us-west-2.s3.amazonaws.com/media/Anti-hunting-Peta-ad.jpg&quot;,&quot;width&quot;:820}" data-trix-content-type="image"><img src="https://gohunt-assets-us-west-2.s3.amazonaws.com/media/Anti-hunting-Peta-ad.jpg" width="820" height="579"><figcaption class="attachment__caption"></figcaption></figure><br><br></div><div><br><br></div>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2018-04-02 03:00:28 UTC</pubDate>
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         <title>Garrett&#39;s Padlet post #2</title>
         <author>garrettmeier13</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/247733441</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div><strong>After Work<br>By Gary Snyder<br><br></strong>The shack and a few trees<br>float in the blowing fog<br><br>I pull out your blouse,<br>warm on my cold hands on your breasts.<br>you laugh and shudder<br>peeling garlic by the hot iron stove.<br>bring in the axe, the rake, the wood<br><br>we'll lean on the wall<br>against each other<br>stew simmering on the fire<br>as it grows dark<br>drinking wine.<br><br>...................................................<br><br>This is one of Gary Snyder's few poems that focus less on nature and much more on human interaction. Snyder was raised in a much different time then what we have now. Love had a different meaning and the love people had towards one another was much more sacred. This short, but sweet poem focuses on the idea of a husband's love and the happiness it brings. Much like his other poems, one main literary element he employs is that of imagery. Here, he portrays a husband and wife's interactions and the intimate physical and emotional connections they share. Her breasts "warm" his cold hands, and they lean against each other and share a loving moment. Intimacy plays a big part in many of his writings, whether it be between mankind and nature, or like here, man to woman. It's clear that Snyder puts an emphasis on the importance of intimacy and affection, and I believe this might be a commentary on the experiences he witnessed as a child or those he had himself. Gender roles is a clear idea throughout this short work. The husband is returning from work, as suggested by the title, and his wife is at home preparing supper. This poem was written in 1968, and for this period in time, that ritual and lifestyle was completely normal. This is not to point out the imperfection of society or a flaw in the system, but just a view point of the difference of the social structure of the past as compared to that of the present. After studying the idea of gender roles in many works this year and the negative connotations behind it, it was good to see a poem that highlights another viewpoint of this ever-present idea. Perhaps this was not Snyder's intention, but I was able to identify this idea clearly. Overall, I greatly enjoyed this poem because of its simplicity, as compared to his other works that include dark undertones and persuade readers to take his side on a certain subject. <br><br><figure class="attachment attachment--preview" data-trix-attachment="{&quot;contentType&quot;:&quot;image&quot;,&quot;height&quot;:296,&quot;url&quot;:&quot;http://www.poetry-chaikhana.com/S/SnyderGary/images/SnyderGary.jpg&quot;,&quot;width&quot;:300}" data-trix-content-type="image"><img src="http://www.poetry-chaikhana.com/S/SnyderGary/images/SnyderGary.jpg" width="300" height="296"><figcaption class="attachment__caption"></figcaption></figure><br><strong><br></strong><br></div>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2018-04-02 04:13:01 UTC</pubDate>
         <guid>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/247733441</guid>
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         <title>Adrian&#39;s padlet post #3</title>
         <author>adriannnnn</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/247978437</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div><strong>My Voice<br>by Oscar Wilde<br></strong><br>Within this restless, hurried, modern world<br>We took our hearts' full pleasure--You and I,<br>And now the white sails of our ship are furled,<br>And spent the lading of our argosy.<br><br></div><div>Wherefore my cheeks before their time are wan,<br>For very weeping is my gladness fled,<br>Sorrow has paled my young mouth's vermilion,<br>And Ruin draws the curtains of my bed.<br><br></div><div>But all this crowded life has been to thee<br>No more than lyre, or lute, or subtle spell<br>Of viols, or the music of the sea<br>That sleeps, a mimic echo, in the shell.<br>.................<br>...............................................<br>“My Voice”, which is the 59th sonnet included in Oscar Wilde’s collection titled <em>Poems, </em>can be seen as continuation of “Her Voice”<em> </em>(which i wrote my last padlet post on). While Her Voice comes from the woman’s point of view, “my voice” is from the other side of the conversation, the husband. </div><div>The poem begins by recapturing the essences of their relationship and the passion for one another that seemed to be mutual. The first two lines , “WITHIN this restless, hurried, modern world/ We took our hearts’ full pleasure—You and I,” i got a sense of their being a lot of chaos, or odds against this couple, however this is from the year 1881, and the modern world Oscar Wilde writes about isn't all that modern. Despite my opinion, I do get a sense of the love that he writes about, what stuck out to me is the separation of “you and I” from the rest of the line, It adds emphasis to the emotions the writer felt about their relationship. I almost want to compare it to a bonnie and clyde relationship where it's just the two of them against the world.</div><div>Though the stanza starts about the love and passion these two had for each other, there is a quick and sudden shift, the writer is now talking about how things are over and the journey is no longer a quest for adventure. The last two lines of the stanza read, “And now the white sails of our ship are furled,/ And spent the lading of our argosy. The writer uses the ship as a symbol or representation of their relationSHIP. In context the writer says that the ship is back on land, no longer in use, similar to the feelings his partner has lost for him .</div><div>The second stanza which uses lots of diction, creates an image what effects are emplaced on the writer. His happiness is gone and the reason to live is no longer, he looks ill and almost lifeless.. His sadness or his broken heart has taken a toll on his physical appearance. I feel as though the writer had a harder time than the person he is addressing.My understanding is confirmed in the third stanza which says that the wife or girlfriend will only see this as a “subtle spell/Of viols, or the music of the sea/That sleeps, a mimic echo, in the shell.”. The writer is clearly shattered by the fate of the relationship, he saw more and probably wanted more but his partner is unaffected, to her this is all just a moment is the chaotic life they live. </div><div>This being a continuation of “Her Voice” really makes me happy, it shows something that we rarely see from men: emotion. This is one of the instances where the women is the strong one, who is able to overcome, while the man is left broken and incapable of moving on.  #isOscarWildeafeminist?</div><div><br></div>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2018-04-03 03:07:44 UTC</pubDate>
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         <title>Jonathan&#39;s Padlet post #1 Hollow Men                                 by T.S. Eliot     </title>
         <author>jonathanbrooks614</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/248092763</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div><em>Mistah Kurtz—he dead.</em><br><br><em>A penny for the Old Guy</em><br><br><strong>I</strong><br>We are the hollow men<br>We are the stuffed men<br>Leaning together<br>Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!<br>Our dried voices, when<br>We whisper together<br>Are quiet and meaningless<br>As wind in dry grass<br>Or rats' feet over broken glass<br>In our dry cellar<br><br>Shape without form, shade without colour,<br>Paralysed force, gesture without motion;<br><br>Those who have crossed<br>With direct eyes, to death's other Kingdom<br>Remember us—if at all—not as lost<br>Violent souls, but only<br>As the hollow men<br>The stuffed men.<br><br><strong>II</strong><br>Eyes I dare not meet in dreams<br>In death's dream kingdom<br>These do not appear:<br>There, the eyes are<br>Sunlight on a broken column<br>There, is a tree swinging<br>And voices are<br>In the wind's singing<br>More distant and more solemn<br>Than a fading star.<br><br>Let me be no nearer<br>In death's dream kingdom<br>Let me also wear<br>Such deliberate disguises<br>Rat's coat, crowskin, crossed staves<br>In a field<br>Behaving as the wind behaves<br>No nearer—<br><br>Not that final meeting<br>In the twilight kingdom<br><br><strong>III</strong><br>This is the dead land<br>This is cactus land<br>Here the stone images<br>Are raised, here they receive<br>The supplication of a dead man's hand<br>Under the twinkle of a fading star.<br><br>Is it like this<br>In death's other kingdom<br>Waking alone<br>At the hour when we are<br>Trembling with tenderness<br>Lips that would kiss<br>Form prayers to broken stone.<br><br><strong>IV</strong><br>The eyes are not here<br>There are no eyes here<br>In this valley of dying stars<br>In this hollow valley<br>This broken jaw of our lost kingdoms<br><br>In this last of meeting places<br>We grope together<br>And avoid speech<br>Gathered on this beach of the tumid river<br><br>Sightless, unless<br>The eyes reappear<br>As the perpetual star<br>Multifoliate rose<br>Of death's twilight kingdom<br>The hope only<br>Of empty men.<br><br><strong>V</strong><br><em>Here we go round the prickly pear<br>Prickly pear prickly pear<br>Here we go round the prickly pear<br>At five o'clock in the morning.</em><br><br>Between the idea<br>And the reality<br>Between the motion<br>And the act<br>Falls the Shadow<br><em>For Thine is the Kingdom</em><br><br>Between the conception<br>And the creation<br>Between the emotion<br>And the response<br>Falls the Shadow<br><em>Life is very long</em><br><br>Between the desire<br>And the spasm<br>Between the potency<br>And the existence<br>Between the essence<br>And the descent<br>Falls the Shadow<br><em>For Thine is the Kingdom</em><br><br>For Thine is<br>Life is<br>For Thine is the<br><br><em>This is the way the world ends<br>This is the way the world ends<br>This is the way the world ends<br>Not with a bang but a whimper.<br><br><br></em>Through the use of symbolism, imagery, and allegory T.S. Eliot in Hollow Men depicts how correlating to other influences can create an unique image only made aware by a specific portion of his audience. In Hollow Men the narrator is one of the "Hollow Men." In the first section, a bunch of Hollow Men are leaning together like scarecrows. Eliot uses metaphor to compare the dryness of their bodies and voices to the Sahara Desert. Everything they say and do is meaningless. They are compared to living in Hell, but they weren’t violent and reckless being who deserved to be in such a place. Next one hollow man is afraid to look at people who made it to "death's dream kingdom" which is either Heaven or Hell. The Hollow Men live in a world where it seems their desire is to make it to the otherworld. The setting is barren and filled with cactus and stones similar to a desert, and is a symbol of the dryness and isolation the hollow men face. The Hollow Men feel a desire to kiss someone, but they are unable to so they say prayers to the broken stones.&nbsp; In the final section it starts with a nursery rhyme modeled on the song "Here we go 'round the mulberry bush," except instead of a mulberry bush the kiddies are circling a prickly pear cactus. The narrator describes how a "shadow" has paralyzed all of their activities, so they are unable to do as they please and fulfill the desires they have. The Hollow Men die with regret and mourn the final desires of never getting the opportunity to live how they wanted, because to them they are beings which must live in the shadows.<br><figure class="attachment attachment--preview" data-trix-attachment="{&quot;contentType&quot;:&quot;image&quot;,&quot;height&quot;:317,&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://ia.media-imdb.com/images/M/MV5BNGY3MDY5MzMtMzY0ZS00YzIyLWEzYTEtOWY4NzZmMmQ2MGJiL2ltYWdlL2ltYWdlXkEyXkFqcGdeQXVyMTc4MzI2NQ@@._V1_UY317_CR17,0,214,317_AL_.jpg&quot;,&quot;width&quot;:214}" data-trix-content-type="image"><img src="https://ia.media-imdb.com/images/M/MV5BNGY3MDY5MzMtMzY0ZS00YzIyLWEzYTEtOWY4NzZmMmQ2MGJiL2ltYWdlL2ltYWdlXkEyXkFqcGdeQXVyMTc4MzI2NQ@@._V1_UY317_CR17,0,214,317_AL_.jpg" width="214" height="317"><figcaption class="attachment__caption"></figcaption></figure></div>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2018-04-03 13:02:10 UTC</pubDate>
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         <title>Jonathan&#39;s Padlet post #2 The Waste Land                     by T.S. Eliot</title>
         <author>jonathanbrooks614</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/248095316</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div>Through the use of metaphor, symbolism, and imagery T.S Eliot in The Waste Land depicts how suffrage and isolation can lead to abandonment. In the poem, he delves into themes of war, trauma, disillusionment, and death, illuminating the devastating aftereffects of World War I. The poem calls for peace with the repetition of "shantih" which is the Sanskrit word for "peace". In the openings there is the famous line, "April is the cruelest month." The narrator is Marie, a young woman who bears witness to the physical and emotional devastation caused by the war. Next she describes the inside of a wealthy woman's bedroom and the garbage-filled waters of the Thames. Eliot uses symbolism to describe nature and the environments impact on humanity. In the final part of the poem, the narrator shows the symbolism of the thunderclaps cracking over an Indian jungle. The poem ends with the repetition of the Sanskrit word for peace: "Shantih shantih shantih." The poem doesn’t hide the culture it tries to correlate into poem, and this helps sway the perspective of the audience in many ways.</div>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2018-04-03 13:08:18 UTC</pubDate>
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         <title>Skylar&#39;s padlet post #3 I ,Too by Langston Hughes </title>
         <author>sky110098</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/248112522</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div>I, too, sing America.</div><div><br></div><div>&nbsp;I am the darker brother.</div><div>&nbsp;They send me to eat in the kitchen</div><div>&nbsp;When company comes,</div><div>&nbsp;But I laugh,</div><div>&nbsp;And eat well,</div><div>&nbsp;And grow strong.</div><div><br></div><div>&nbsp;Tomorrow,</div><div>&nbsp;I’ll be at the table</div><div>&nbsp;When company comes.</div><div>&nbsp;Nobody’ll dare</div><div>&nbsp;Say to me,</div><div>&nbsp;“Eat in the kitchen,”</div><div>&nbsp;Then.</div><div><br></div><div>&nbsp;Besides,</div><div>&nbsp;They’ll see how beautiful I am</div><div>&nbsp;And be ashamed—</div><div><br></div><div>&nbsp;In the poem I , Too by Langston Hughes it shows meter , tone , and symbolism. Throughout the poem it uses ''I ' repeatedly in which i though was repetition. The first line of the second stanza states "I am the darker brother" which means he may be African American, but he is still an American. The following five meters state "They send me to eat in the kitchen. When company comes, but I laugh, and eat well, and grow strong". The use of "I'' again is showing that African Americans do not worry about what is being done, but how they are growing stronger as segregation continues, knowing soon they will be equal. So this is related to freedom in a way?..</div>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2018-04-03 13:43:23 UTC</pubDate>
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         <title> Phenomenal WomanBY MAYA ANGELOUPretty women wonder where my secret lies.I’m not cute or built to suit a fashion model’s size   But when I start to tell them,They think I’m telling lies.I say,It’s in the reach of my arms,The span of my hips,   The stride of my step,   The curl of my lips.   I’m a womanPhenomenally.Phenomenal woman,   That’s me.I walk into a roomJust as cool as you please,   And to a man,The fellows stand orFall down on their knees.   Then they swarm around me,A hive of honey bees.   I say,It’s the fire in my eyes,   And the flash of my teeth,   The swing in my waist,   And the joy in my feet.   I’m a womanPhenomenally.Phenomenal woman,That’s me.Men themselves have wondered   What they see in me.They try so muchBut they can’t touchMy inner mystery.When I try to show them,   They say they still can’t see.   I say,It’s in the arch of my back,   The sun of my smile,The ride of my breasts,The grace of my style.I’m a womanPhenomenally.Phenomenal woman,That’s me.Now you understandJust why my head’s not bowed.   I don’t shout or jump aboutOr have to talk real loud.   When you see me passing,It ought to make you proud.I say,It’s in the click of my heels,   The bend of my hair,   the palm of my hand,   The need for my care.   ’Cause I’m a womanPhenomenally.Phenomenal woman,That’s me.</title>
         <author>c_yanneli16</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/248115694</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div>- Phenomenal Woman is a lyrical poem that sends out an important message to the world of convention and stereotype: empowerment comes from being confident in your own female skin, no matter if you are not seen as cute or fashionable by the masses.Phenomenal Woman is a direct and passionate poem no doubt, you can feel the speaker's need to lay things out just as they are, yet it also contains the seed of self-knowing, of self-confidence. And it does convey the idea that no matter the pressures of society to conform and be who others want you to be, inner self-belief is the phenomenal bit. Once this is accepted, you will be a happier and more complete person, a phenomenon.<br><br><br><br><figure class="attachment attachment--preview" data-trix-attachment="{&quot;contentType&quot;:&quot;image&quot;,&quot;height&quot;:289,&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://usercontent2.hubstatic.com/13677341.jpg&quot;,&quot;width&quot;:286}" data-trix-content-type="image"><img src="https://usercontent2.hubstatic.com/13677341.jpg" width="286" height="289"><figcaption class="attachment__caption"></figcaption></figure><br><br><br></div><h1>Woman Work</h1><div><br></div><div>I've got the children to tend&nbsp;<br>The clothes to mend&nbsp;<br>The floor to mop&nbsp;<br>The food to shop&nbsp;<br>Then the chicken to fry&nbsp;<br>The baby to dry&nbsp;<br>I got company to feed&nbsp;<br>The garden to weed&nbsp;<br>I've got shirts to press&nbsp;<br>The tots to dress&nbsp;<br>The can to be cut&nbsp;<br>I gotta clean up this hut&nbsp;<br>Then see about the sick&nbsp;<br>And the cotton to pick.&nbsp;<br><br>Shine on me, sunshine&nbsp;<br>Rain on me, rain&nbsp;<br>Fall softly, dewdrops&nbsp;<br>And cool my brow again.&nbsp;<br><br>Storm, blow me from here&nbsp;<br>With your fiercest wind&nbsp;<br>Let me float across the sky&nbsp;<br>'Til I can rest again.&nbsp;<br><br>Fall gently, snowflakes&nbsp;<br>Cover me with white&nbsp;<br>Cold icy kisses and&nbsp;<br>Let me rest tonight.&nbsp;<br><br>Sun, rain, curving sky&nbsp;<br>Mountain, oceans, leaf and stone&nbsp;<br>Star shine, moon glow&nbsp;<br>You're all that I can call my own.<br>-The rhyme scheme throughout ‘Woman Work’ is not constant. The first stanza consists of seven pairs of rhymed lines in the pattern AABB and so on. Since these lines are short and quick in nature, they create an impression of breathlessness in the reader’s mind, as if the woman has no time to pause between her various household chores if she is to complete them within the required space of a single day. The next more stanzas are written in free verse, and create a more calming effect.The primary concept of “Woman Work” is the idea of that the social and cultural responsibilities of being a woman might have to be balanced with the construction of space that could be a “room of one’s own.” The Woolf reference is quite deliberate as she sought to create a “space” where women could construct and live in a realm that was separate and distinct from male patriarchal society.</div><div><br><br><br><br><br><br></div>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2018-04-03 13:50:10 UTC</pubDate>
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         <title></title>
         <author>sky110098</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/248119212</link>
         <description><![CDATA[R]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2018-04-03 13:56:57 UTC</pubDate>
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         <title>Mental Hospital Graveyard by Michelle Boisseau</title>
         <author>michellealmanza00</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/248335033</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div>You might become sentimental over that starry atmosphere&nbsp;</div><div>that comes to so little. As you might over apples&nbsp;</div><div>Shaded out by maples, or over the failure&nbsp;</div><div>of a brother who had such promise.&nbsp;</div><div>The rest of the farm was long ago to subdivided,&nbsp;</div><div>but few living there know the orchid. In spring&nbsp;</div><div>the boughs hang like thousands of shredded shirts&nbsp;</div><div>left on a line through winter. In fall</div><div>&nbsp;</div><div>there's hardly a bushel of apples to pick&nbsp;</div><div>Where wisteria blooms across barbed wire,&nbsp;</div><div>the grounds begin. you've got to remember: gargoyles&nbsp;</div><div>and gardens clipped into clubs and hearts,&nbsp;</div><div>in architecture for people who think madness&nbsp;</div><div>a Rosetti romance. I was cutting through&nbsp;</div><div>when I ran across them. They're neat as Arlington graves-&nbsp;</div><div>you'd have noticed once-&nbsp;</div><div><br></div><div>but only numbers up to twenty. Then down the rows&nbsp;</div><div>the numbers start over. The woman who took a razor&nbsp;</div><div>to her clothes after the Millfied mine&nbsp;</div><div>collapsed like a rotten floor, her husband inside,&nbsp;</div><div>could be mistaken for the soupy-eyed son&nbsp;</div><div>of Ruthie McAllister, raped by her uncle, or confused&nbsp;</div><div>with any number of those brought in from seven countries.&nbsp;</div><div>There's no use pitying&nbsp; those under unmarked stones-</div><div><br></div><div>&nbsp;the retarded were rarely named anyway and the insane died&nbsp;</div><div>Into other selves. And why blame the families?&nbsp;</div><div>who would want to drive all the way from Gallipolis&nbsp;</div><div>or Letart Falls to see the brother&nbsp;</div><div>who couldn't know you? The dying farm’s enough worry.&nbsp;</div><div><br><figure class="attachment attachment--preview" data-trix-attachment="{&quot;contentType&quot;:&quot;image&quot;,&quot;height&quot;:300,&quot;url&quot;:&quot;http://kcstudio.org/wp-content/uploads/2017/12/boisseau1-226x300.jpg&quot;,&quot;width&quot;:226}" data-trix-content-type="image"><img src="http://kcstudio.org/wp-content/uploads/2017/12/boisseau1-226x300.jpg" width="226" height="300"><figcaption class="attachment__caption"></figcaption></figure>The final poem I chose was titled “Mental Hospital Graveyard”. Just by reading the title, I felt that the poem was going to include ideas of mental issues, death, sickness, health, mistreatment, and society. Particularly, how all of this relates back to mental illnesses.</div><div><br></div><div>Some literary elements I picked up on were similes and metaphors. As is stated in the text, “In spring the boughs hang like thousands of shredded shirts left on a line through winter.” This simile works to set the tone of the poem and to provide a description of the farm. The tone comes off as dark, depressing, and reflective. Its focus on ideas of abandonment which give off a very melancholy feeling. The poem states that, “You might become sentimental over that starry atmosphere that comes to so little. As you might over apples shaded out by maples, or over the failure of a brother who had such promise.” This metaphor expresses the emotions of those who have loved ones who are suffering from mental illnesses. It compares apples being shaded out by maples to the failure of a brother. The metaphor gives off the feeling of ‘what could have been’. It develops ideas of regret and hope. I felt that the emotions being expressed in the poem also mirror society's perception on mental illnesses. Society tends to cast a shadow on issues like this. I think the last stanza does a good job at&nbsp; detailing these&nbsp; ideas. The author encourages/ forces the audience to question their own&nbsp; thoughts on mental illness. She closes up with ideas of abandonment and importance.&nbsp;</div><div><br></div><div>I chose this poem mainly because of the title. Mental health is a controversial topic that I find to be very interesting. The use of the word ‘graveyard’ only worked to further grab my interest. This brought up ideas of death, particularly death in / from mental hospitals. This conclusion led me to think about mistreatment in mental hospitals and by those who simply don’t understand the struggles mentally ill people go through.</div>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2018-04-04 00:30:05 UTC</pubDate>
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         <title>Adrian&#39;s padlet post #4</title>
         <author>adriannnnn</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/248703588</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div><strong><em>Symphony In Yellow by Oscar Wilde<br></em></strong><br>An omnibus across the bridge<br>Crawls like a yellow butterfly,<br>And, here and there, a passer-by<br>Shows like a little restless midge.</div><div><br>Big barges full of yellow hay<br>Are moored against the shadowy wharf,<br>And, like a yellow silken scarf,<br>The thick fog hangs along the quay.</div><div><br>The yellow leaves begin to fade<br>And flutter from the Temple elms,<br>And at my feet the pale green Thames<br>Lies like a rod of rippled jade.<br><br>.........................<br>This poem awakens the inner hipster in me, that drinks caramel lattes and takes pictures of flowers for instagram. Oscar Wilde’s mission with “Symphony In Yellow” is to show visual imagery in the beauty nature, and the world has to offer. This poem creates a painting of what Oscar Wilde views instead of showing action, he describes the world around him.</div><div>In the first stanza the poet describes a bus that “crawls” like a yellow butterfly . The use of “crawls” in this simile, gives the poem a very calm and soothing tone. It almost slows down the fast moving world around us. The bus isn't going at a fast pace instead the bus is crawling gently like a butterfly . In this case a yellow butterfly, yellow is one of those colors that ignites many feelings and ideas. When i think of the color yellow I can't help but to think of the warm sun and beautiful sunflowers that spring brings. All very happy connotations that I associate with yellow.  </div><div>The second stanza carries the same feeling evoked by the color yellow. “Big barges full of yellow hay / Are moored against the shadowy wharf” once again Wilde uses action words such as “moored” to show the simplicity and natural state of the water the hay is crossing. Further Along Wilde evokes feeling of security, and protection when he says “like a yellow silken scarf,/The thick fog hangs along the quay.” This fog is not the fog we’re used to, this fog is not used to describe something negative, instead Wilde compares it to a yellow silken scarf . The use of the words “silken” and “hangs” continues to enrich the description of the scenery. </div><div>The third and final stanza brings us to the exact place the writer is standing. It bring everything together, we finally realize the writer is standing in front of the Thames River, which he describes as “a pale green” who “lies like a rod of rippled jade”. The final stanza shows the big picture compared to the tiny details we saw in the first, two stanzas. </div><div>Oscar Wilde’s subjectivity of detail allows for a journey of bright yellow and fresh air, the larger picture however is refreshing and ignites creativity in the reader. Or atleast me . </div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><strong><em><br></em></strong><br><br></div>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2018-04-04 23:31:16 UTC</pubDate>
         <guid>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/248703588</guid>
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         <title>No title-rupi kaur                    Stephanie Scruggs </title>
         <author>stephanie_scruggs</author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/249386975</link>
         <description><![CDATA[<div>did you think I was a city&nbsp;</div><div>big enough for a weekend getaway&nbsp;</div><div>I am the town surrounding it&nbsp;</div><div>the one you’ve never heard of&nbsp;</div><div>but always pass through</div><div>for I make bridges tremble&nbsp;</div><div>I am not street meat I am homemade jam&nbsp;</div><div>thick enough to cut the sweetest&nbsp;</div><div>thing your lips will touch&nbsp;</div><div>I am not police sirens&nbsp;</div><div> I am the crackle of a fireplace&nbsp;</div><div>I’d burn you and you still</div><div>&nbsp;couldn’t take your eyes off me&nbsp;</div><div>cause I’d look so beautiful doing it&nbsp;</div><div>you’d blush&nbsp;</div><div>I am not a hotel room I am home&nbsp;</div><div>I am not the whiskey you want&nbsp;</div><div>I am the water you need&nbsp;</div><div>don’t come here with expectations&nbsp;</div><div>and try to makes vacation out of me&nbsp;</div><div>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;ANALYSIS&nbsp;</div><div>This poem is meant to empower and to show self-worth. This poet constantly defends how she isn’t just anyone to emphasize her value over herself. She isn’t just going around with everyone she has morals and is the real deal. the literary elements I found in this poem were conceit, metaphor, and diction. Pieces like “I am not street meat I am homemade jam” show how there are metaphors. “Did you think I was a city” is one of the many quotes I could’ve used as the use of the city is an extended metaphor or conceit in the poem. “I am the water you need don’t come here with expectations and try to make a vacation out of me” shows her diction. I found the tone of this poem over all being very empowering and uplifting. “I am the water you need” is very uplifting as many people don’t have that power to say that. “I’d burn you and you still couldn’t take your eyes off me” shows her empowering words and how she gives off that feeling of empowerment. “I’d look so beautiful doing it you’d blush” she is so assertive giving that positive energy to her readers to make sure they feel that way after they read her poem. The shift in this poem was from I am not to I am. “ I am not the whiskey you want I am the water you need. The ideas I found were self-worth, power, identity,and&nbsp; importance. Through the use of diction,conceit, and metaphor rupi kaur in this poem depicts how knowing the importance of your self-worth gives you power in knowing your identity.</div><div><br></div>]]></description>
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         <pubDate>2018-04-07 01:26:21 UTC</pubDate>
         <guid>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/249386975</guid>
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         <author></author>
         <link>https://padlet.com/curley_rene00/khexx6y9zi8i/wish/566991586</link>
         <description><![CDATA[You might become sentimental over that starry atmosphere
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         <pubDate>2020-05-12 09:16:24 UTC</pubDate>
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