The Farewell

This was a pretty weird poem because the protagonist doesn’t seem to have any emotion even though he seems to be dying as he disappears under the ice. By using the words “imperturbable”, “coolly”, and “sad”, the author portrays a depressed man disappearing forever into the water and never being seen again.

 

They say the ice will hold
so there I go,
forced to believe them by my act of trusting people,
stepping out on it,

and naturally it gaps open
and I, forced to carry on coolly
by my act of being imperturbable,
slide erectly into the water wearing my captain's helmet,
waving to the shore with a sad smile,
"Goodbye my darlings, goodbye dear one,"
as the ice meets again over my head with a click.

—Edward Field

Bad Day

 

This poem is very straightforward and simple. The author is talking about how he feels like it is decided for him each day whether it will be a good day or a bad day. But what is most interesting to me is in the poem at the end he goes off to talk about how the hardest days are when you don’t know if it’s  gonna be a good day or a bad day and the choice of what day to have is up to you. Will it be a day to be optimistic and kind and thoughtful, or is it a day to gossip about people and not smile in the hallways. Make it a great day or not the choice is yours.

Not every day
is a good day
for the elfin tailor.
Some days
the stolen cloth
reveals what it 
was made for:
a handsome weskit
or the jerkin
of an elfin sailor.
Other days
the tailor
sees a jacket
in his mind
and sets about
to find the fabric.
But some days
neither the idea
nor the material
presents itself;
and these are 
the hard days
for the tailor elf.

—Kay Ryan

Radio

 

In this poem, I think the missing radio represents a void in the author’s life.

 

No radio
in car 

No radio on board

No radio
Already stolen

Absolutely no radio!

Radio broken
Alarm is set
To go off

No radio
No money

No radio
no valuables

No radio or
valuables
in car or trunk

No radio
Stolen 3X

No radio
Empty trunk
Empty glove compartment
Honest

In car
Nothing of value

No radio
No nuthin
(no kidding)

Radio Broken
Nothing Left!

Radio Gone
Note Hole in Dashboard

Warning!
Radio Will Not Play
When Removed
Security Code Required

Would you keep
Anything valuable
In this wreck?

No valuables
In this van

Please do not
Break-in
Unnecessarily

Thank you
For your kind
Consideration

Nothing of value
in car
No radio
No tapes
No telephone

—Laurel Blossom

The Poet

This poem is kind of weird because a poet is hating on poets and is probably describing himself. This poem makes the reader think that the poet is upset and that depressed about his life. The exerpt, “Does not understand what he reads, Does not understand what he hears…” brings to light the sadness that the poet feels about himself as he is realizing that he is different that the society around him. Yes, poets are often times different than their peers but it is not a bad thing and I think that the poet just needs to see that for himself. #BeASpecialSnowflake

Loses his position on worksheet or page in textbook
May speak much but makes little sense
Cannot give clear verbal instructions
Does not understand what he reads
Does not understand what he hears
Cannot handle “yes-no” questions

Has great difficulty interpreting proverbs
Has difficulty recalling what he ate for breakfast, etc.
Cannot tell a story from a picture
Cannot recognize visual absurdities

Has difficulty classifying and categorizing objects
Has difficulty retaining such things as
addition and subtraction facts, or multiplication tables
May recognize a word one day and not the next

—Tom Wayman

April Rain Song

I LOVE THIS POEM! The theme of this poem is to just live your life and don’t let anyone tell you what to do or what to be bothered by, or not bothered by. This poem carries a carefree tone to its readers and encourages the reader to make the best of any situation. The poem uses the repetition of the phrase, “Let the rain…” as to say let the world pour out its negativity onto you but don’t let it bring you down. The key point of this poem is optimism. 🙂

Let the rain kiss you
Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops
Let the rain sing you a lullaby
The rain makes still pools on the sidewalk
The rain makes running pools in the gutter
The rain plays a little sleep song on our roof at night
And I love the rain.

Did I Miss Anything?

At first this poem sounded sarcastic, like when I ask my teachers what we did in class and they answer something like in stanza 2. Or they say that they stopped class just to wait for me. I think this poem was written by a professor who was tire of kids asking what they did in class and just wrote a poem about it. A part that I don’t understand is the last two lines, “And it was one place, and you weren’t here.” 

Nothing. When we realized you weren’t here
we sat with our hands folded on our desks
in silence, for the full two hours

     Everything. I gave an exam worth
     40 percent of the grade for this term
     and assigned some reading due today
     on which I’m about to hand out a quiz
     worth 50 percent

Nothing. None of the content of this course
has value or meaning
Take as many days off as you like:
any activities we undertake as a class
I assure you will not matter either to you or me
and are without purpose

     Everything. A few minutes after we began last time
     a shaft of light suddenly descended and an angel
     or other heavenly being appeared
     and revealed to us what each woman or man must do
     to attain divine wisdom in this life and
     the hereafter
     This is the last time the class will meet
     before we disperse to bring the good news to all people  on earth.

Nothing. When you are not present
how could something significant occur?

     Everything. Contained in this classroom
     is a microcosm of human experience
     assembled for you to query and examine and ponder
     This is not the only place such an opportunity has been gathered

     but it was one place

     And you weren’t here

—Tom Wayman

The Bat

This poem seems to be referring to somebody to be two-faced and the authors seems to be holding a grudge against them. I see this in the last stanza when the author says “When mice with wings can wear a human face.” This quote is talking about how a lot of the time people are definitely not what they seem and they’re pretending to be someone that they’re not. Overall, The poet is reflecting on a two-faced person, whether it is him or a family member or maybe a close friend.

 

By day the bat is cousin to the mouse.
He likes the attic of an aging house.

His fingers make a hat about his head.
His pulse beat is so slow we think him dead.

He loops in crazy figures half the night
Among the trees that face the corner light.

But when he brushes up against a screen,
We are afraid of what our eyes have seen:

For something is amiss or out of place
When mice with wings can wear a human face.

—Theodore Roethke

At the Un-National Monument Along the Canadian Border

I think the author is talking about how we are not proud of what happened between Canada and America. I don’t really know the history behind it but doesn’t seem like the author wants to talk about the events that occurred there. It sounds like a peaceful, quiet monument.

This is the field where the battle did not happen,
where the unknown soldier did not die.
This is the field where grass joined hands, 
where no monument stands,
and the only heroic thing is the sky.

Birds fly here without any sound,
unfolding their wings across the open.
No people killed — or were killed — on this ground
hallowed by neglect and an air so tame
that people celebrate it by forgetting its name.

—William E. Stafford

Numbers

This poem was awesome to me because I love math for the same reason that this author likes numbers – they are so simple. There is no bias, there is no question or uncertainty. Math is numbers and numbers are simple.  When the poet says, “I like the generosity of numbers. The way, for example, they are willing to count anything or anyone.”, I think he means that there is a beautiful simplicity associated with numbers.

I like the generosity of numbers.
The way, for example,
they are willing to count
anything or anyone:
two pickles, one door to the room,
eight dancers dressed as swans.

I like the domesticity of addition--
add two cups of milk and stir--
the sense of plenty: six plums
on the ground, three more
falling from the tree.

And multiplication's school
of fish times fish,
whose silver bodies breed
beneath the shadow
of a boat.

Even subtraction is never loss,
just addition somewhere else:
five sparrows take away two,
the two in someone else's
garden now.

There's an amplitude to long division,
as it opens Chinese take-out
box by paper box,
inside every folded cookie
a new fortune.

And I never fail to be surprised
by the gift of an odd remainder,
footloose at the end:
forty-seven divided by eleven equals four,
with three remaining.

Three boys beyond their mothers' call,
two Italians off to the sea,
one sock that isn't anywhere you look.

—Mary Cornish

The Distances

When the author says “Ah, How the distances spiral from that…”, I think it means that this family lives together and eats together but there is still a distant relationship between them. I really liked the way the poet described the stretch and distance and how he related it to things such as the starry night sky and large ocean. I think the theme of the poem is to not let your family distance from you.

This house, pitched now
The dark wide stretch
Of plains and ocean
To these hills over
The night-filled river,
Billows with night,
Swells with the rooms
Of sleeping children, pulls
Slowly from this bed,
Slowly returns, pulls and holds,
Is held where we 
Lock all distances!

Ah, how the distances
Spiral from that
Secrecy:
Room,
Rooms, roof
Spun to the huge
Midnight, and into
The rings and rings of stars.

—Henry W. Rago