Book of Ruth

This biblical narrative begins, as others do, in the little town of Bethlehem. A jewish family composed of the father Elimelech, his wife Naomi, and his two sons live happily until suddenly famine hits the land hard. Elimelech decides to take the family to the neighboring country of Moab where one of his sons marries our protagonist Ruth (a non jewish woman). Then sadly things take a turn for the worst: Elimelech dies as well as both of his sons, leaving only Naomi, Ruth, and the other son's wife Orpah. Naomi decides there's nothing left for her in Moab and decides to return to Bethlehem. She tells Ruth and Orpah to remain in Moab and remarry, to which Orpah does but Ruth doesn't. Ruth does not abandon her mother in law and instead accompanies her to a strange land in which she is the minority.

Upon returning to Bethlehem and with no men to support them, Ruth decides to glean the fields to support Naomi (gleaning means to harvest the fields of wheat after a majority has already been harvested). It just so happens the man who owns the fields she works in, Boaz, takes a fancy to Ruth. Then it turns out because of some relation to Elimelech, Boaz is traditionally obligated to marry the widowed Ruth. So, Naomi tells Ruth in order to win over Boaz you must do something scandalous: lie at the foot of his bed. She does so, and Boaz is pleased and calls Ruth a most virtuous woman, but he also admits there is someone with closer relations to her than he so they don't "get it on" right then and there. Instead he gives her a blanket and she lies at the foot of his bed all night. The next day Boaz investigates the matter and the man with the right to wed Ruth relinquishes his rights. It's kind of anti-climactic bud they do live happily ever after. Ruth proves to be the grandfather of the Great King David.

What is important about this story is Ruth is loyal to Naomi and her new faith even when she didn't need to be. She could've started a new life similar to that of Orpah, remarried, and not had to pick at the scraps of barley fields to eat. Because of her virtuous nature she is rewarded by God with a good marriage, life, and the glorious offspring to be.

Ruth

So there's a famine in Bethlehem, meaning that Elimelech and his wife, Naomi, have to move east with their two sons, and their sons marry Ruth and Orpah, but then, all the men die eventually, so Naomi, Ruth, and Orpah are left there. Naomi decides to go back to Bethlehem and Ruth, going against her people, tags along anyway. Boaz is a local guy that starts to like Ruth, so Naomi tries to get them together and eventually, Ruth and Boaz do get married. Their pasts are different, but their son, Obed, had a son named Jesse, who had a son named David, who became the king of Israel. That's big stuff right there. 

What's also big stuff is that Ruth is showing how to interact in a Jewish society as a non-Jewish woman, which is incredibly big in the Bible and for that time period. Now, we look at an interracial/cultural relationship as no biggie (or rather, I'd hope most of us do) because we've come a hella far way since Ruth was being chastised for marrying into a Jewish family. Even 30 years ago it was different and odd, especially for something as common as an interracial relationship that we see today, but I do think that there are still stigmas brought on by ignorant people that don't see a relationship for what it truly is: love. I mean, heck, I'll give my two cents story about my aunt, a white woman, who married a black man. They loved each other a lot and it never occurred to me when I was little that this was something off, it was just different. But even though the marriage didn't work out necessarily, it didn't keep me or anyone else from thinking that it was a big deal. Because it's really not. It's just two people loving each other. And maybe if you're talking about it from a more cultural aka religious aspect, I think it can be odd, but I don't think it's an end-all be-all. It can change a lot, but you've got to know what you're going to decide to do ahead of time and then I think it's all good.

Sonnet CXLVII: My love is as a fever, longing still

BY WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE

My love is as a fever, longing still

For that which longer nurseth the disease,

Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill,

Th’ uncertain sickly appetite to please.

My reason, the physician to my love,

Angry that his prescriptions are not kept,

Hath left me, and I desperate now approve

Desire is death, which physic did except.

Past cure I am, now reason is past care,

And frantic-mad with evermore unrest;

My thoughts and my discourse as madmen’s are,

At random from the truth vainly expressed:

    For I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright,

    Who art as black as hell, as dark as night.

This is a Shakespearean sonnet, but some of the end rhyme is eye rhyme. For example, love and approve, and care and are; they look like they would rhyme but when pronounced they don't. The rest of the poem is consistent with the Shakespearean sonnet, it has 3 quatrains which mostly follow the rhyme pattern, and it's turning point is right before the last two lines, and the last two lines rhyme and are a couplet. Shakespeare used this form the emphasize his message that love is like an illness. The first three quatrains talk about how he still wants to be with his mistress even after she did some questionable things, and then in the couplet he finally realizes how wrong it is of him to want her back. I honestly chose this sonnet because it was the one that I understood the most after first reading it. However, I really like this sonnet because it takes a different view on love. It compares love to a sickness which is not something that I have ever heard before. Shakespeare talks about how his love is like a fever and how he wants more from his mistress even though she betrayed him, and then at the turn he realizes that she is actually evil, or, "black as hell," and, "dark as night."

Hear the Boat Sing

http://hear-the-boat-sing.blogspot.com/2010/05/sonnet-to-r.html

This poem strays far from the English traditional Iambic Pentameter sonnet in that it is primarily tetrameter and of a syllabic pattern that has proven itself indecipherable to my eye. It is in Shakespearean form and the "turn" comes as early as the first stanza, after which Lehmann stops sarcastically acclaiming his subject and more sincerely mocks him. I believe that because it was a more casual and joking sonnet that Lehmann decided not to use iambic pentameter. It is much more conversational. I chose this sonnet because after unsuccessfully searching for sonnets about Nick Cage, Vince Vaughn and Vin Diesel, I decided to search for sonnets written by Keaton Butler. This was for some reason a result on the 3rd page although I cannot find the words "Keaton" or "Butler" anywhere. I gave up and chose it. It is about a rowing coach in Britain, which I believe Lehmann was. This is a very bland poem.

Sonnet

The Poet

Shakespeare was a playwright of great ability,
And, although very few of us know it,
That besides being a great writer of tragedy,
Shakespeare was a notable poet.
He wrote sonnets of love and sonnets of truth,
Countless sonnets of feelings in-depth.
He wrote sonnets of doubt and sonnets of proof,
Even sonnets about life and death.
His sonnets were unique 'cause he had his own style,
And this unique style was named after him.
Now, his sonnets have been 'round for quite some while,
And are read over and over again.
Although Shakespeare is dead and gone,
His great sonnets live on and on. 

Brian Swaine

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-poet-68/

This poem follows the Shakespearean form of sonnets with the abab cdcd efef gg rhyme scheme, and there aren't many modifications this poet used--except for the use of modern language. The volta occurs where it normally would when the rhyme scheme shifts from efef to gg. This form of the poem is clearly used to demonstrate Shakespeare's influence in the poetic world. I chose this poem, not because I think it's good-honestly, I don't-but I think it's ironic how this poet is writing a shakespearean sonnet about Shakespeare. I think the meaning of this poem is to highlight Shakespeare's input on poetry, but I think this makes the author sound ignorant...I mean, come on, everyone knows Shakespeare wrote poems too. This might have been a good poem if it had actually been satirical. I think the author knows that everyone knows about Shakespeare's poems and is trying to be funny, but he does a poor job of it and it makes him and his writing look weak. So I chose this poem because the author's inability to crack jokes made me laugh. 

Sonnet

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/wife-to-be-petrarchan-sonnet/

"Wife To Be" by Mark R Slaughter

This is a Petrarchan sonnet. The turn is in the 9th line, and it follows the Petrarchan rhyme scheme to a t. It helps the sonnet because at the beginning before the turn, he is disappointed that the girl he proposed to turned him down. But after the turn with the CDE CDE rhyme scheme, he realizes that there are many women out there for him, he just needs to get off his ass and out of depression and go look for one. He basically realizes that the girl that turned him down must be tuna, (because thats an awful fish to eat and smells horrible and that girl was horrible), and the girl after must be a lobster, because he wants to crack her open if ya know what I mean. I chose this sonnet because I googled cool sonnets and read a couple, but I liked the imagery on this one and knew that I could make horrible jokes related to fish.

The Oven Bird by Robert Frost

There is a singer everyone has heard,

Loud, a mid-summer and a mid-wood bird,

Who makes the solid tree trunks sound again.

He says that leaves are old and that for flowers

Mid-summer is to spring as one to ten.

He says the early petal-fall is past

When pear and cherry bloom went down in the showers

On sunny days a moment overcast;

And comes that other fall we name the fall.

He says the highway dust is over all.

The bird would cease and be as other birds

But that he knows in singing not to sing.

The question that he frames in all but words

Is what to make of a diminished thing.

In this homage to a woodpecker, Frost takes the traditional sonnet format and follows it correctly except he places a couplet at the beginning of the poem instead of at the end (a fact which took an embarrassingly long time to figure out), as well as an interjecting couplet in the middle. The first couplet could have been done to grab the reader's attention with immediate rhyme. It certainly got me reading the poem with more intention and a with a slightly faster pace. The second couplet is a nice prerequisite to the volta which comes in line 8. Here Frost reflects less on what the bird is "saying" and focuses on the inner nature of the bird. He then poses his theme in the last line of the poem: "what to make of a diminished thing?" This makes me think that Frost is alluding the woodpecker is a master of turning something broken into gain, "making lemons out of lemonade" to be cliche. In this case, he can't sing, but his skill creates a rhythm of its own. So forage your own path you maverick woodpecker, and in the summer when I'm sleeping in, be sure to be by the tree outside my bedroom 5 o'clock sharp. God forbid I disturb your individuality. 

The Vantage Point

"The Vantage Point" by Robert Frost

If tired of trees I seek again mankind,

Well I know where to hie me--in the dawn,

To a slope where the cattle keep the lawn.

There amid lolling juniper reclined,

Myself unseen, I see in white defined

Far off the homes of men, and farther still,

The graves of men on an opposing hill,

Living or dead, whichever are to mind.

And if by noon I have too much of these,

I have but to turn on my arm, and lo,

The sun-burned hillside sets my face aglow,

My breathing shakes the bluet like a breeze,

I smell the earth, I smell the bruisèd plant,

I look into the crater of the ant.

Frost's "The Vantage Point" is a Petrarchan sonnet. This is evident by the organization of the lines into two quatrains (or an octave) and two tercets (or a sestet). The rhyme scheme is fairly regular for the form: ABBA ABBA CDD CEE. In this way, there aren't really any heavy modifications that Frost makes on the form. The volta, in true Petrarchan form, comes with the change from the quatrains to the tercets. In the beginning, Frost writes about observes the neighboring little town and the men who live and die there. At the volta, he tires of man and turns to observe nature. Frost's use of the form is to convey a single idea which has two separate manifestations. The octave and the sestet may express his desire to observe man and nature respectively, but together they form a picture of Frost (or our speaker) as a lonely observer of the world. He participates not in the world of man nor the world of nature; the most profound effect he has is shaking a flower "like the breeze" with his breath. In a way, the poem is a beautiful pastoral, worshiping the beauty of man and nature together, but on the other hand, it is a sad portrait of someone so removed from life that they simply stay in one spot and pivot to see the world.

Sonnet

Shakespear Sonnet 138

The Passionate Pilgrim

When my love swears that she is made of truth,
I do believe her (though I know she lies)
That she might think me some untutored youth,
Unskillful in the world’s false forgeries.
Thus, vainly thinking that she thinks me young,
Although I know my years be past the best,
I, simply, credit her false-speaking tongue,
Outfacing faults in love, with love’s ill rest.
But wherefore says my love that she is unjust?
And wherefore say not I, that I am old?
O, love’s best habit's in a soothing tongue,
And age in love loves not to have years told.
   Therefore I'll lie with love, and love, with me,
   Since that our faults in love thus smothered be.

Since this sonnet was written by Shakespear himself, I think it's pretty safe to say that this is a classic Elizabethan/Shakespearean sonnet. I didn't notice any modifications from the traditional structure. In Shakespearean sonnets, the volta occurs in the last two lines. In this poem, the shift is from listing the dishonesties of his lover to declaring that he doesn't care that she is dishonest and will lover her anyway. One could also argue that there is a shift in line 9, where the speaker begins to question the reasons why he might not love his companion, but this does not detract from the declaration in the last two lines. These shifts combine to reinforce the poems meaning of love despite faults, which is a theme of many Shakespearean sonnets. I chose this poem because it was a classic example of a sonnet and would be most likely to improve my understanding of this form of poetry.

That Time Of Year Thou Mayst In Me Behold

That Time Of Year Thou Mayst In Me Behold
William Shakespeare

That time of year thou mayst in me behold
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.


As after sunset fadeth in the west,
Which by and by black night doth take away,
Death's second self, that seals up all in rest.
That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,


As the death-bed whereon it must expire
Consumed with that which it was nourish'd by.
To love that well which thou must leave ere long.
In me thou seest the twilight of such day


In me thou see'st the glowing of such fire
This thou perceivest, which makes thy love more strong

This is a Shakespearean sonnet, written in iambic pentameter with an abab cdcd efef gg rhyme scheme. This poem regards time, death, and nature. Shakespeare outlines how time is made up of the past, present, and future. Towards the end of the poem, he begins talking about how they should treasure their love more and more as the grows older, as he will die soon. The changing of the seasons, mainly in quatrain 1, compares himself to a tree that's losing all its leave. Then, in quatrain 2, he compares himself to a fading sunset, and in quatrain 3 compares himself to the last glow of a fire slowly burning out. In the couplet, we realize that he's talking about a relationship that he wishes will grow stronger as he is nearing death. The volta, I believe, is in this couplet because it is just now revealed what his goal this entire time has been--asking his true love to love him more, as he doesn't have much time left. I chose this sonnet because I thought it had beautiful imagery and language, and I'm a fan of Shakespeare, so I wanted to tackle a poem of his. The way he ties imagery into the theme of his poem centered around time and nature is beautiful and very eloquent. 

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? (or nah)

I chose arguably the most famous sonnet of all time by William Shakespeare:

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? 
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date: 
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd; 
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature's changing course, untrimm'd;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st;
Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st; 
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee. 

Sonnet 18 is a classic Shakespearean sonnet. It's written in fourteen lines and is in iambic pentameter. Also, there are virtually no deviations from the normal meter. In fact, while some poets will fit the form by flowing into the next line, this one manages to have each line end in its own thought. Finally, the rhyme scheme in this Sonnet is ABAB CDCD EFEF GG.

The volta is the turning point in the sonnet. We find this when Shakespeare writes "But thy eternal summer shall not fade/ Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st;" I pinpointed this line as the volta because the tone changes from talking about nature's power to rob beauty to asserting with power that her beauty is eternal.

Diluvian Dream by Wilmer Mills

All afternoon I walk behind the mower,

Imagining, though paradoxically,

That even though the grass is getting lower,

What I have cut is like a rising sea;

The parts I haven’t cut, with every pass,

Resemble real geography, a map,

A shrinking island continent of grass

Where shoreline vanishes with every lap.

At last, the noise and smell of gasoline

Dispel my dream. What sea? Peninsulas?

They were the lands my inner child had seen,

Their little Yucatáns and Floridas.

But when I’m finished, and Yard goes back to Lawn,

I can’t help thinking that a world is gone.

This a standard Sonnet with little alterations to the rhyme scheme or stanza length. I was drawn into this sonnet by the title and found that I was not at all disappointed by what I found. I decided to write on this sonnet because I believe that anyone who has ever mowed a lawn can understand precisely what the poet is saying about the uncut grass being an island with a disappearing shoreline. It is not a serious sonnet with any profound meaning, but it is fun and relatable: it is the realization of a thought all of us have but are never able to vocalize. I think the imaginary islands the poet sees in the grass he is cutting are also representative of a childhood innocence and sense of wonder. He seems to question how he would have seen these things and admits they were seen by his inner child. When Mills states, "A world is gone" he is referring to his imaginary landscape as well as the world of his childhood and imagination.

Sonnet

http://www.sonnets.org/bensel.htm "A Portrait" by James Berry Bensel In the white sweetness of her dimpled chin The pink points of her perfumed fingers press, And 'round her tremulous mouth's loveliness The tears and smiles a sudden strife begin: First one and then the other seems to win: And o'er her drooping eyes a golden tress Falls down to hide what else they might confess Their blue-veined lids are striving to shut in. The yellow pearls that bind her throat about With her pale bosom's throbbing rise or fall: The while her thoughts like carrier-doves have fled To that far land where armies clash and shout, And where, beyond love's reach, a soldier tall With staring eyes and broken sword lies dead. This is a petrarchan sonnet because of the ABBAABBA + CDECDE rhyme scheme. I had a bit of difficulty locating the turning point, but I think it is around the 7th line because the poem shifts from physical description to a description of her thoughts and feelings. You could say that Bensel made a modification to the sonnet by having this shift earlier on in the pome, but I don't think it's significant enough to argue about. The form of this poem benefits its message by allowing the reader to have a lovely sing-songy interaction with the beautiful woman before we learn about her troubles and the problems that make her feel not so beautiful. The volta emphasizes the weight on her shoulders, so to speak. I chose this poem out of obscurity (sorry, gotta be cautious) but I came to like it after a thorough reading. The description of the woman is captivating and she seems like a painting, yet it's almost as if she's haunted by the absence of her lover.

Sonnet

http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/244840

[Sonnet]

BY GEORGE HENRY BOKER

Brave comrade, answer! When you joined the war,

    What left you? “Wife and children, wealth and friends,

    A storied home whose ancient roof-tree bends

    Above such thoughts as love tells o’er and o’er.”

Had you no pang or struggle? “Yes; I bore

    Such pain on parting as at hell’s gate rends

    The entering soul, when from its grasp ascends

    The last faint virtue which on earth it wore.”

You loved your home, your kindred, children, wife;

    You loathed yet plunged into war’s bloody whirl!—

    What urged you? “Duty! Something more than life.

That which made Abraham bare the priestly knife,

    And Isaac kneel, or that young Hebrew girl

    Who sought her father coming from the strife.

In this sonnet, Boker speaks of deep, almost divine need to serve for one's country. Due to the ABBA, ABBA, CDECDE rhyme scheme, this sonnet is a Petrarchan, or Italian sonnet. I believe Boker didn't do any significant changes to the form because the volta happens at the beginning of the sestet. The poem goes from a more general, inquisitive situation to an accusing tone, then shifts even more (which could be a modification) to become religious with allusions to the Bible. 

I picked this sonnet because I admired the speaker's deep need to serve for the greater good though he knew the struggles he would face. I think Boker didn't kept the form of his sonnet straightforward in order to support the straightforwardness of the speaker's choice to sacrifice his "wife and children, wealth and friends" in order to fight.

A Bridge Over the Volta River

"Sonnet" by Elizabeth Bishop

I am in need of music that would flow
Over my fretful, feeling finger-tips,
Over my bitter-tainted, trembling lips,
With melody, deep, clear, and liquid-slow.
Oh, for the healing swaying, old and low,
Of some song sung to rest the tired dead,
A song to fall like water on my head,
And over quivering limbs, dream flushed to glow!

There is a magic made by melody:
A spell of rest, and quiet breath, and cool
Heart, that sinks through fading colors deep
To the subaqueous stillness of the sea,
And floats forever in a moon-green pool,
Held in the arms of rhythm and of sleep. 

Elizabeth Bishop here writes a fairly straightforward rendition of the Petrarchan sonnet, only making a significant change to alter the rhyme scheme in the second half of the first stanza. "ABBAABBA" becomes "ABBAACCA." Otherwise, the structure of the Petrarchan sonnet (line count, rhyme scheme, placement of the volta) remain intact.

Certainly Bishop's subject in this poem lends itself well to this kind of formalism. She treats the subject of music with abstract, ageless concepts. The octave sets up the subject as it relates to the speaker - she is in need of healing, quite possibly of some sort of emotional trauma or anxiety. Bishop implicitly compares herself to "the tired dead," perhaps indicating that she is ready to die, or perhaps indicating a connection to the past.

Bishop then extends an image from the octave - "a song to fall like water on my head" - as a sort of bridge to cross the volta. After the volta, Bishop shifts to speaking of the magic inherent to music, which she compares to a trip underwater to the depths of the sea. One is impressed by the way the connection to the image in the octave - water falling onto one's head - compares with the direction of the imagery in the second stanza, which either continues to move downwards, or reverses origin in that it is now subterranean rather than coming apparently from above. The sestet concludes with a return to abstracts, "held in the arms of rhythm and of sleep," tying us back to the subject of the poem and the theme of exhaustion brought up in the first stanza. The sestet and octave are thus simultaneously separated in notable ways - a dramatic change in subject over the volta and a shift towards more naturalistic imagery - and at the same time clearly occupy the same thematic world.

Part of why I picked this poem was that I wanted to use a work by a poet I was already familiar with, to enhance my understanding both of the poem and its' writer. Bishop's sonnet stood out to me because of the emotional connection I frequently have with music, much as she does in the first stanza and as many of my peers do. In particular, the desire to be relaxed and released by music, to be put to sleep with the tiring dead, is familiar to me from instances where I have used music to cope with extreme stress & trauma.

Hardest Freakin' Poem I've Ever Done

Oh, how I cannot wait for the month of June, 

When we will soon

Be free of worry and stress and fear, 

On with our live that we hold so dear.

While it is true that we will be parting ways,

We will always remain a family, inseparable until the end of days.

In our planning of future days,

We have forgotten that come June

We will depart on our separate ways,

Off to our college educations that we will begin soon;

Such is the way of life, to lose all that is dear,

As change inevitably leads to fear.

But we must never forget that in our moments of fear,

We have always been there for each other throughout the days,

For we treasure each other's friendship with dear,

Honest, sincerity as one might treasure sunshine in the month of June.

We must remember to keep in touch long after we soon

Depart on our separate ways.

Has it truly been only four short years since we first encountered ways,

Lost in the hallways, overwhelmed by fear?

Time--no doubt--has passed too soon, 

Yet change, it has to come in June,

When we move on with our lives that we hold so dear.

Though we should not forget dear

Old acquaintances, it is important we also not dwell in past ways,

Because on that fateful day in June,

We will have many more memories to look forward to, filled with both happiness and fear.

Just think, in a mere seventy or so days,

We will be ready to conquer the world some day soon.

And on that some day soon,

Let us remember each other, dear

Friends. "Should old acquaintance be forgot in days

Of Auld Lang Syne?" No, our separate ways

Shall have no such effect, don't fear,

When we graduate on that fateful day in June.

While it is true we will soon be parting ways

In June, have no fear,

For we will always remain dear--a family, inseparable until the end of days.

Sonnet 116 by William Shakespeare

SONNET 116

Let me not to the marriage of true minds

Admit impediments. Love is not love

Which alters when it alteration finds,

Or bends with the remover to remove:

O no; it is an ever-fixed mark, 

That looks on tempests, and is never shaken;

It is the star to every wandering bark,

Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.

Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks 

Within his bending sickle's compass come; 

Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, 

But bears it out even to the edge of doom.

   If this be error and upon me proved,

   I never writ, nor no man ever loved. 

http://www.shakespeare-online.com/sonnets/116.html

This sonnet is a Elizabethan sonnet because it was written by William Shakespeare. Using iambic pentameter like other Shakespearean sonnets and plays, the meter of the poem plays an important role in the development of theme and presentation. Moreover, Shakespeare seems to have adopted the traditional British form of the sonnet for this poem with little change to the form. Shakespearean sonnets are divided into three quatrains with each having two rhymes while the last two lines are referred to as a couplet because they rhyme with each other. As for changes to the volta (a shift in the tone/ideas of the poem), this poem really doesn't have any because of the strong adherence to the traditional form. The volta occurs between lines 8 & 9 when love is no longer referred to as a guide, but an everlasting force that never goes away. This form of poetry really helps the author develop a strong connection with his audience because the reading of the poem almost sounds like a story is being read aloud (with moral messages involved, of course!). Moreover, the volta serves a clear point where the author can transition from one idea to another. 

I chose this sonnet because it really resonated with me about all the different examples of love & relationships we have been talking about in class. Before taking AP Lit this year, I was not aware of the dominance of this theme in so many works across a variety of genres from poetry to non-fiction. The primary issues discussed in this poem are love and morality because Shakespeare not only discusses the tumult of love that helps guide the lost, but also the constant presence of love throughout life and even after death. The last lines of the poem really reaffirm to the audience that love is inevitable and cannot be avoided.  

Baby Cancer W/Corrections

Clay Whiteheart
Baby Cancer

Why did God make cancer?
Of all the creation; was he so wounded?
As to want to give this life, take this life, from a baby
He wont live six weeks they said.
I thought about the things he'd miss: football
bubble gum, lightning bugs, a class project.

The things I'd miss: showing him how to catch, helping with that project.
Of all the good things the lord could bestow, cancer?
His first day was my best day, held him like a little football
Who knew a child this beautiful could be wounded
It was terminal they said.
But my god he was just a baby.

My child, my boy, my baby.
Her mother reasoned 'Better off he not live in a project'
Better off he doesn't suffer she said.
Who knows how he suffered, what it did to him, that cancer.
I always wanted a boy, who knew when it happened I'd be so wounded
I thought back to football.

It was the reason I'd had to quit; football
I mean. Forget about the baby.
I was broken out for the season, wounded
The surgeons didn't want me, thought I was a project
After a big hit I took, the doc said I had cancer
It's hereditary, they said.

You gave the sickness to your son, they said.
With your goddamn tackles and your goddamn football,
You gave your baby cancer
You gave cancer to your baby
Now you sit in your dirty grey project
Apartment, wondering how life got to be so wounded

Injured, broken kaputt, blasted, wounded.
His bone charts said he could have been a star, they said.
Pushing my boy to fame would have been my life's project
If he could have lived through the illness, he'd live for football.
After all, he was my baby
Took away my chance at redemption, that cancer.

Though he was wounded, I demanded he go pro, he play football.
But He's a baby, they said. Your baby.
He's a project, they said. He had cancer.

Sestina revised

Define Soon

Oh yes! They're here!
The results are out,
and I was ready to play,
but now you have to pack up
and go away?
You promise you will be back soon.

Except, define soon.
When will You be here?
How long are You away?
My patience are running out,
and it won't be long until I'm fed up.
Don't play

Around. All your plays
are getting old and all too soon
I'll give up
but still all I want is you here.
All Your looking for is an out,
somewhere far away...

You say it's better that You're away,
but I'll never stop analyzing your plays
because I know our time hasn't run out
yet. But soon,
there will be nothing of you left here.
It's not up

to You, nor up
to me, it's for the people far away
and the people here
to decided if You can come back to play.
Pay attention, soon
their decisions will be out.

Oh yes! They're out!
You must pack up,
and come home soon.
Your time away
has been too long and they're sick of your play,
so they send you back here.

Come back and put your things away,
I'm tired of waiting here and watching you there,
I must play now because all too soon you will be gone again.

Still a Scroggin

If you ask me what my last name is, I'll say Scroggin.
I have a wonderful mother named Marta,
my father that's raised me well is Brad,
my cool brother's name is Brandon,
my sweet sister is named Shelby,
and my baby boy brother is Sloan.

I was seven years old for the birth of Sloan.
It was then that there became six of the Scroggins.
The one who became a big sister on that day was Shelby
and everyone came to help and comfort Marta,
who was still very kind to everyone, including Brandon,
the new big brother and he comforted the new again father, Brad.

We were raised on the principles of hard work, thanks to Brad,
who is still diligently training Sloan.
The one who gets most frustrated is Brandon,
but he doesn't understand that this is what makes him a Scroggin.
One of these situations goes badly when Marta
checks Infinite Campus and takes the phone from Shelby.

We're all pretty weird, but the weirdest is Shelby,
followed by my dance-loving father, Brad.
The one who tries to calm them down is Marta,
but then again, we all know the oddest is Sloan.
Simply being weird is a characteristic of being a Scroggin,
though the one who's most normal of all is Brandon.

Tonight was a good night, as well all went to see Brandon,
working hard at Fazoli's when Shelby
decided it would be funny to get every Scroggin
in the restaurant to make a joke to him at the register, though Brad
was a little angry at that. Sloan,
always the kiss up, didn't do it, simply to impress Marta.

Though kiss ups never impressed her, Marta
didn't want to hurt the feelings of Brandon,
and who was happiest at all of this? Sloan,
the goody two shoes who Shelby
makes fun of and then Brad
chastises, but I guess that's all part of being a Scroggin.

I wouldn't change my family for anything in the world, as the Scroggin family has many weird things,
but the compilation of the funny marriage of Brad and Marta, combined with me and three other kids,
Brandon, Shelby, and Sloan, is what makes our family so doggone odd.

Spring Sestina II

We're discovering a magnificent world of warmth
The dark days of winter will soon turn
The pale darkness of the land now green
Prospects of new beginnings abound with life
A time to brighten and enjoy the spring,
As the breeze whispers softly through the meadow.

The break of dawn, a doe alone in the meadow
She feels the rays spawn a glowing warmth,
Nature grins down upon her ambassadors of spring.
Rejoice one and all for the days will turn
Longer as the animals celebrate the gift of life
The members of the fraternity revel in their banner green.

A calling card of wealth; green
Invites all peoples into the sanctum of the meadow
The place teaming with abundant life.
is hard to ignore, like the warmth
in your heart that could turn
the darkest winter into the brightest spring.

Isn't that what we yearn for? The Spring
That frees the young birds from the nest; green
And anxious to fly, to finally turn
The leaf and flutter haphazardly into the meadow
Feeling the glorious rays giving warmth,
Repeating that glorious cycle of life!

Such a gift, we rarely reflect on: life.
So many souls will never again taste the spring.
The Innocent and the brave that will never feel the warmth
Thoughts of carnage and disease creep and turn one green.
Alas, there are those who found the meadow,
but for those who didn't our memories musn't turn.

And for them we rejoice! As the the flowers turn
and new bridges are built and we celebrate life.
We take our newborn children for the first time to the meadow
Let them experience the grace of a first spring.
The laughter and the play staining their knees green
Until finally, we all tire, collapsing in the soothing warmth.

As I walk from the meadow of life,
I pause; glancing down as the tulips turn green
And breathe in the warmth, saving the joy of spring.


After writing a sestina, I felt writing it was a very organic process; you're given a structure, told to make it work, and I felt this was a good springboard for creativity. I didn't really want to do a narrative from beginning to end because I thought this wouldn't capture my infatuation with spring and it would be too challenging. So I tried to create scenes that are relatable which capture the essence of spring: (in order 1st stanza = turn the corner, 2nd = animals, 3rd = rich life, 4th = new life, 5th = life lost, and 6th = human life. For the 7th stanza (I know "meadow of life is the biggest cliche I've ever written) but the line I love the most is breathing in the warmth, because you just can't do that at any other time. It is a great joy to walk outside after months of prolonged cold and let the 60 degree air fill your lungs. You feel refreshed and energized and that is the essence of spring. I really enjoyed writing this because it is simply my favorite season. 

Living

All it takes is one moment.

The flash of the lights, the start of the music,

she had just walked on the stage,

when it ended so quickly.

She still has the drive and the passion,

but no place for it.

She had been working for it,

for that moment

when she could drown herself with passion

and become one with the music.

Time goes by so quickly,

but time stops on the stage.

Two feet on the stage,

a deep breath and it

all stopped. Her mom rushed quickly

up to the stage and in one moment,

there was just music,

and her passion.

Her stomach was a pit of burning passion,

she was going to leave it all on the stage,

she knew her music

forwards and backwards; it

had become part of her and part of the moment

she lost so quickly.  

Quickly,

she and her passion,

came crashing down. The moment

she was rolled into the OR, she was on the doctors' stage,

and it was then that she knew it

was going to be okay. She still had her music.

Her music,

played quickly

it
continually fed her passion.

She longed to be on the stage 

and to be able to again live in the moment.

Throughout her recovery she lived off of music and passion
the months quickly went by, and before she knew it she was back on the stage.
The surgeries and rehab made it possible for her to have her longed for moment. 

I had originally picked begun as one of my words and basically repeated the same phrase over and over in every stanza, but I changed the word completely and while I know my new poem isn't a masterpiece, I think it is far better than my original one.