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Monday, August 29, 2005
Cloony The Clown
by Shel Silverstein
I'll tell you the story of Cloony the Clown
Who worked in a circus that came through town.
His shoes were too big and his hat was too small,
But he just wasn't, just wasn't funny at all.
He had a trombone to play loud silly tunes,
He had a green dog and a thousand balloons.
He was floppy and sloppy and skinny and tall,
But he just wasn't, just wasn't funny at all.
And every time he did a trick,
Everyone felt a little sick.
And every time he told a joke,
Folks sighed as if their hearts were broke.
And every time he lost a shoe,
Everyone looked awfully blue.
And every time he stood on his head,
Everyone screamed, "Go back to bed!"
And every time he made a leap,
Everybody fell asleep.
And every time he ate his tie,
Everyone began to cry.
And Cloony could not make any money
Simply because he was not funny.
One day he said, "I'll tell this town
How it feels to be an unfunny clown."
And he told them all why he looked so sad,
And he told them all why he felt so bad.
He told of Pain and Rain and Cold,
He told of Darkness in his soul,
And after he finished his tale of woe,
Did everyone cry? Oh no, no, no,
They laughed until they shook the trees
With "Hah-Hah-Hahs" and "Hee-Hee-Hees."
They laughed with howls and yowls and shrieks,
They laughed all day, they laughed all week,
They laughed until they had a fit,
They laughed until their jackets split.
The laughter spread for miles around
To every city, every town,
Over mountains, 'cross the sea,
From Saint Tropez to Mun San Nee.
And soon the whole world rang with laughter,
Lasting till forever after,
While Cloony stood in the circus tent,
With his head drooped low and his shoulders bent.
And he said,"THAT IS NOT WHAT I MEANT -
I'M FUNNY JUST BY ACCIDENT."
And while the world laughed outside.
Cloony the Clown sat down and cried.
http://www.halley.cc/regina/stuff/poem.ss.Cloony_the_Clown.html
I love the way Shel Silverstein writes, he writes in a casual way which usually able for him to convey his idea to the audience effectively. This poems rhyme smoothly and everything seems to be fitted so nicely together. I tend to search for short poems to read and skip those lengthy poems but this particular one had managed to catch my attention as well. This poem makes me wonder if ever at any time, I had hurt someone unintentionally. Through this simple illustration of Cloony the Clown, it makes me realize how easy it is to hurt somebody by reacting inappropriately to the plight of other fellow human beings. I think we should really be sensitive at times and not to disregard people for our own enjoyment as we never know how much our enjoyment may inflict pain on others.
+ i r e m e m b e r again + 5:40 AM
Sunday, August 28, 2005
To A Daughter Leaving Home
by Linda Pastan
When I taught you
at eight to ride
a bicycle, loping along
beside you
as you wobbled away
on two round wheels,
my own mouth rounding
in surprise when you pulled
ahead down the curved
path of the park,
I kept waiting
for the thud
of your crash as I
sprinted to catch up,
while you grew
smaller, more breakable
with distance,
pumping, pumping
for your life, screaming
with laughter,
the hair flapping
behind you like a
handkerchief waving
goodbye.
http://www.loc.gov/poetry/180/075.html
The poet describes a mother's feeling towards her daughter learning to ride a bike to eventually leaving her; a mother's feeling to a child's growing up process. I think the poet is trying to convey the message that parents have to learn to let of their children go one day. However, I feel that it is pretty contradicting as parents often teach their kids to be independent but at the same time they want to be needed, waiting for their crash and sprinting up to them. Children may grow to be independent but instead of parents waiting for their crash and tending to them, children should always turn their heads to look back at their parents letting them know that they are not forgotten, for the simple fact that they brought us up.
+ i r e m e m b e r again + 11:05 AM
God's Wheel
by Shel Silverstein
God says to me with a kind of smile,
"Hey how would you like to be God awhile
And steer the world?"
"Okay," says I, "I'll give it a try.
Where do I set?
How much do I get?
What time is lunch?
When can I quit?"
"Gimme back that wheel," says God.
"I don't think you're quite ready yet."
http://www.amandakjones.com/poems.html
Many times, we might envy people of certain position and status and wished to be like them but seldom did we take into consideration of their responsibility. People tend to marvel at how wonderful it is to be so and so but had neglect the fact that so and so will have his or her responsibilities that we might not be able to handle and they way of life is not like what we think it is. This poem had taught us to be ourselves, as each and every one of us has our own identities therefore it is always easier and simpler to be what we originally were.
+ i r e m e m b e r again + 11:03 AM
Best Witchcraft is Geometry
by Emily Dickinson
Best Witchcraft is Geometry
To the magician's mind --
His ordinary acts are feats
To thinking of mankind.
http://www.kalliope.org/digt.pl?longdid=dickinson200108301158
While skimming through various titles, this poem had caught my attention. I love to watch magic shows, mainly because magic is simply amazing and leaves people to ponder upon how the magician managed to accomplish this and that. But actually, just like what was mentioned in the poem, to a magician's mind, magic simply means geometry for them to fool the audiences. However, it comes to show that how clever is mankind, to be able to compose such tricks. All in all, although magic are a pack of lies, and is simply geometry, I still enjoy being watching magic shows and be fooled by magicians!
+ i r e m e m b e r again + 11:02 AM
Picture Puzzle Piece
by Shel Silverstein
One picture puzzle piece
Lyin' on the sidewalk,
One picture puzzle piece
Soakin' in the rain.
It might be a button of blue
On the coat of the woman
Who lived in a shoe.
It might be a magical bean,
Or a fold in the red
Velvet robe of a queen.
It might be the one little bite
Of the apple her stepmother
Gave to Snow White.
It might be the veil of a bride
Or a bottle with some evil genie inside.
It might be a small tuft of hair
On the big bouncy bellyOf Bobo the Bear.
It might be a bit of the cloak
Of the Witch of the West
As she melted to smoke.
It might be a shadowy trace
Of a tear that runs down an angel's face.
Nothing has more possibilities
Than one old wet picture puzzle piece.
http://www.americanpoems.com/poets/Shel-Silverstein/13485
I have a special affinity with jigsaw puzzles and there are tons of jigsaws in my house. Jigsaws are amazing indeed as one is made up of little pieces forming a large picture. This poem reminds me that every little piece is a representation of something in the picture, and the poet makes it more special to give the jigsaw piece so many identities to let people see how much a jigsaw piece may mean to a certain drawing. I tend to link jigsaw puzzle to human's lives. As every one of us may seem to be an inconspicuous piece of jigsaw puzzle, our contribution to the whole population will be of certain significance and the different identities of each and every one of us will certainly come together and make a complete picture of the whole society.
+ i r e m e m b e r again + 10:56 AM
Messy Room
by Shel Silverstein
Whosever room this is should be ashamed!
His underwear is hanging on the lamp.
His raincoat is there in the overstuffed chair,
And the chair is becoming quite mucky and damp.
His workbook is wedged in the window,
His sweater's been thrown on the floor.
His scarf and one ski are beneath the TV,
And his pants have been carelessly hung on the door.
His books are all jammed in the closet,
His vest has been left in the hall.
A lizard named Ed is asleep in his bed,
And his smelly old sock has been stuck to the wall.
Whosever room this is should be ashamed!
Donald or Robert or Willie or--Huh?
You say it's mine? Oh, dear,
I knew it looked familiar!
http://www.halley.cc/regina/stuff/poem.ss.Messy_Room.html
This seriously sounds like my room as well! Anyway, this poem appeals to me, as the poem seems to be something which you and I faced each day. The poem may be exaggerated but if we examine each line carefully, it seems to be a typical student’s room, with books and clothes all over the place. This poem is not very serious as compared to other poems but it is good in the way that we will not feel too distant from the poem. Well, I shall go and pack my room now. (:
+ i r e m e m b e r again + 10:53 AM
The Little Boy and the Old Man
by Shel Silverstein
Said the little boy, "Sometimes I drop my spoon."
Said the old man, "I do that too."
The little boy whispered, "I wet my pants."
"I do that too," laughed the little old man.
Said the little boy, "I often cry."
The old man nodded, "So do I."
"But worst of all," said the boy, "it seems
Grown-ups don't pay attention to me."
And he felt the warmth of a wrinkled old hand.
"I know what you mean," said the little old man.
http://www.mtco.com/~hwilkins/oldman.html
I think this poem is beautiful in a way that it shows the circle of life. I heard it from somewhere that when we are old, we will return back to how we first started and this poem clearly illustrates that to us. The understanding between the very young and the very old shows that they experience the same things which make them of each other's plight. This is a very sad poem yet touching at the same time.
+ i r e m e m b e r again + 10:45 AM
Fireflies in the Garden
by Robert Frost
Here come real stars to fill the upper skies,
And here on earth come emulating flies,
That though they never equal stars in size,
(And they were never really stars at heart)
Achieve at times a very star-like start.
Only, of course, they can't sustain the part.
http://www.ketzle.com/frost/fireflie.htm
If we have eyes to look at all things to explore their beauty, it does not matter if it just an imitation or it is real, for both look equally pleasing to the eye, and we know how to appreciate them. In the poem, in the skies, there are stars, on earth, fireflies exist, and although they can never be equal, but both are equally lovely. I have yet to see a firefly in my living years but if I had a chance, even though they could not be like a star forever, having a look at its most beautiful and brightest moment, the beauty of it will remain intact forever in my heart. Often, we looked out for the best of things but fail to see that there are actually things which are equally lovely as well. This poem is very amazing as it portrays true beauty of things which people tends to overlook.
+ i r e m e m b e r again + 10:37 AM
If I can stop one Heart from breaking
Emily Dickinson
If I can stop one Heart from breaking
I shall not live in vain
If I can ease one Life the Aching
Or cool one Pain
Or help one fainting Robin
Unto his Nest again
I shall not live in Vain.
http://www.battus.net/If%20I%20can%20stop%20one%20heart%20from%20breaking.htm
There may be a deeper meaning to this poem, but personally, I think this poem is simply trying to let us understand being helpful and loving towards other people will certainly make our life more meaningful. It seems as though Emily is trying to express her desire to help people through this poem. I agree with her as life could be really tough if there is nobody to lend a helping hand when we meet with obstacles. Similarly, if our lives only consist of ourselves entirely, life would be completely pointless as there is no hint of love between people. I feel that if we hope to have somebody to help us when we are in need, why not we take the initiative to help people and while doing so, live a meaningful life.
+ i r e m e m b e r again + 10:34 AM
Sunday, August 21, 2005
I Taught Myself to Live Simply
Anna Akhmatova
I taught myself to live simply and wisely,
to look at the sky and pray to God,
and to wander long before evening
to tire my superfluous worries.
When the burdocks rustle in the ravine
and the yellow-red rowanberry cluster droops
I compose happy verses
about life's decay, decay and beauty.
I come back. The fluffy cat
licks my palm, purrs so sweetly
and the fire flares bright
on the saw-mill turret by the lake.
Only the cry of a stork landing on the roof
occasionally breaks the silence.
If you knock on my door
I may not even hear.
This poet seems to be living in her own world. This poem is presented in a beautiful way, as a matter of fact, I think life can be as beautiful as the way she composes this poem. She gives the idea that she is enjoying her life, in a simple way. In the beginning, she mentioned "I taught myself to live simply and wisely". Many might not agree that to lead a simple life needs to be taught. However, in my own opinions, I think that we need to “learn” to live a simple life. I feel that people nowadays are too self-conscious about the wealth and status they possess, in a way, the society takes control of them. But in this poem, the poet is living for herself, I think many of us are not able to do that as we are tied down by society demands, this kind of fairytale life seems to be unsuitable. I felt envious of the lifestyle the poet presents, and I wish someday, it would occur to me. The idea of a simple lifestyle is the most enjoyable one and indeed, I enjoy this poem very much.
+ i r e m e m b e r again + 8:44 AM
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You
By Pablo Neruda
I do not love you except because I love you;
I go from loving to not loving you,
From waiting to not waiting for you
My heart moves from cold to fire.
I love you only because it's you the one I love;
I hate you deeply, and hating you
Bend to you, and the measure of my changing love for you
Is that I do not see you but love you blindly.
Maybe January light will consume
My heart with its cruel
Ray, stealing my key to true calm.
In this part of the story I am the one who
Dies, the only one, and I will die of love because I love you,
Because I love you, Love, in fire and blood.
http://www.eliteskills.com/c/9754
I like the way the poem was presented reflecting the idea of "love and hate lies between a thin line". The way the poet has written the poem in such a contradicting pattern makes me realise that love and hate can actually occur to us at the same time. Perhaps he is trying to convey the idea that the person we love might be the one that in the end who will hurt us more as we felt more for what he or she had done for us. This poem seems to be contradicting and in fact, difficult to understand, but I feel that it may a way of the poet trying to present "love" to us, love can be at times confusing, but in the long run, we will come to understanding it. The last stanza presented love with a self-sacrificial intent makes me impressed with how people could do so much for the sake of love. All in all, I think it is an amazing poem and just makes me wonder more about what love is all about.
+ i r e m e m b e r again + 8:12 AM
Wednesday, April 20, 2005
Metaphors
By Sylvia Plath
I'm a riddle in nine syllables.
An elephant, a ponderous house,
A melon strolling on two tendrils.
O red fruit, ivory, fine timbers!
This loaf's big with its yeasty rising.
Money's new-minted in this fat purse.
I'm a means, a stage, a cow in calf.
I've eaten a bag of green apples,
Boarded the train there's no getting off.
http://www.angelfire.com/tn/plath/metaphor.html
I liked this poem very much! The ideas in the poem are never clearly stated but through the poem, there is this deliberate use of similar subject matters. The poet deliberately uses nine lines, with nine syllables in each line to illustrate the idea of nine months in a pregnancy. The pattern and the flow of the poem are simply amazing with the accompaniment of the metaphors that she uses to describe her pregnancy. She had used so many illustrations that seemed unrelated to being pregnant, she made the whole poem looked so ridiculous but somehow, looking at it carefully, we can roughly deduce what the poet is trying to depict. I liked the part where she mentioned "A melon strolling on two tendrils". I can almost picture what she really meant; the concept of metaphor is really represented successfully.
However, as beautiful as everything is described, there is this sense that the poet is not favorable of being pregnant. The way the poet describes everything make it sounds as if she feel that her "cargo" is more important than she is. Comparing herself with her baby, she is an "elephant", a "house", a "melon", a "fat purse...", whereas the baby is considered as the "ivory" from the elephant, the "timber" from the house, the "fruit" inside the melon, and the "money" in the purse. The writer presented a sarcastic tone when she mentioned all of the above, as though she is being punished for choosing to be pregnant. I am not really aware of the consequence of eating "a bag of green apples", but it seems to be quite an unpleasant thing-to-do. Perhaps she is using this as an implication of the horrible experience to her pregnancy. The idea of no turning back is shown in the poem and struggle within her can be seen through the "metaphors" in the poem.
I enjoyed reading this poem very much but also at the same time, I resent her for not facing the music, her pessimistic way of looking at being pregnant. She does not see a child as a gift but a burden to her, something which she does not enjoy. She had effectively utilise the concept of "metaphor" but unfortunately the poet sees everything disapprovingly.
+ i r e m e m b e r again + 7:50 AM
Sunday, April 17, 2005
When you are old
a poem by William Butler Yeats
When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;
How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim Soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;
And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.
http://www.poetry-online.org/yeats_when_you_are_old.htm
The imagery presented here is simple but yet lovely illustrated. Many people may dread death but the poet actually depicts death as not a violent end but something one "falls into" as easily as sleep. The concrete image of "an elderly somebody nodding by a fire" is shown in the poem, the phrase "full of sleep" carries the broad connotation of death, and describes the sleeping that leads to dreaming. It gives me a very pleasant impression on how the poet viewed death at this instance when he described it with such attractive proposition.
The second stanza is descriptive of her dream of the past. From this image of her youthful gaze she is reminded of those who loved her "moments of glad grace" and her "beauty with love false or true." The reference to the contrast between "grace and beauty" and "one man" who loved her pilgrim soul suggests of an unwavering love, willing to journey into age, still loving the "sorrows" of her "changing face" as she shifts through the years.
The illustration of "bending down besides the glowing bars" perhaps is the suggestion of seeking of warmth and comfort, the desire and need for the fiery love she once rejected. Love is also suggested as very liberated when the image of an absolute Love, fleeing, effortlessly into mountainous distances. The poet also states love as "Love" with a capital letter "L" The idea of love as a thing on its own, or perhaps a living thing is implied, to a dynamic love.
Overall, i love the way the poet portrays everything admirably. From unwavering love to sorrowful death, everything is described in a very pleasant and beautiful way.
+ i r e m e m b e r again + 4:01 PM
Monday, April 11, 2005
Where true Love burns Desire is Love's pure flame;
It is the reflex of our earthly frame,
That takes its meaning from the nobler part,
And but translates the language of the heart. http://www.poetry-online.org/coleridge_desire.htmI like the way this poem is presented. A short 4-line poem but yet depicts a very complete picture of the poet's definition of a passionate love. The poet also uses charming words to illustrate his own picture of the "languages of the heart". Phrases such as "pure flame", "earthly frame" and "language of the heart" leave a very deep impression in my mind. Often, we associate love or passion to a fiery fire but never did we think of love with another perspective. Never did we want to associates this wonderful piece to an unfaithful love. However, we take initiative to mention love from the "nobler part", the pleasing part that we want to believe. Through this poem, I can see the poet's intention to make us think of love in a pleasant way and translate it to our loved one. The poet had also inspired me to regard love as a gift bestowed us.
+ i r e m e m b e r again + 8:42 AM
Friday, March 11, 2005
clean and shine
reflection
of heavy minds
inspired by the whiteboard :)
+ i r e m e m b e r again + 12:49 AM
