Unusual Circumstances

The poem that grasped my attention was “Reading: Winter” by C.K. Williams. It didn’t make me angry, but I was for sure confused. The poem starts out with a man indecisively trying to put on a car jack. It is clearly cold and the narrator is watching him do it. Many mishaps happen while the man is trying to change the tire. First it’s the coldest it has ever been, and he has no idea what the parts of the car are. The poem is odd because toward the end the man just stops to read? The author never states if the car gets fixed or not, and it can’t be inferred because the man isn’t too sure how to even change a tire. I’m assuming that the man is on a blocked road. I believe this because it says there are multiple cars that have skid behind him, so there might have been a wreck. 

 This poem also confused me because there wasn’t really any story to it and it just changes so fast. The last sentence to me is what threw me off and made me second guess what the author was writing about. To really be honest I didn’t fully understand what the story was about. I feel the author expressed his/her ideas in a confusing manner because I think the poem can be freely interoperated. I am also assuming the author wrote this poem in this manner because it would keep the audience confused or wanting more. I have expressed earlier how this made me feel confused, but I believe this is a writing style many poets use. There have been multiple poems that have left me stunned. While reading this poem I wasn’t sure if it really happened or just a random idea. The only thing that could have falsified it was the bizarre weather. Since we live in Texas it’s hard to imagine anything below 21 degrees.

   Maybe the author uses a newspaper to show the realization of the poem. The man with the jack must have been stressed out so I feel the paper was a way to bring him back to sanity. There is nothing else to me that the news paper can do for him; maybe it’s a coping mechanism.  While I am writing this blog I keep rereading the story and I still find myself confused no matter how many perspective I try and visualize it.  If I can ask a question the question would be what does the news paper actually symbolize?  I would also ask what the true meaning of this poem is. Even though I am still confused, I feel I have plotted down several ideas that will eventually lead me to the correct solution.  A lot of the poems I choose to write about I feel can be dissected more so than others, but I also feel that sometimes I may over complicate things. This poem “Reading: Winter” is one of those where I feel can be discussed to find the deeper meaning.  

Love Comparison

The two poems I chose to write about are “Hate Poem” by  Julie Sheehan and “A Monorhyme for the shower” by Dick Davis. These poems are both about a relationship and have the same theme but approach the topic very differently. One  thing that is similar between the two is that they both are filled with memories of a loved one.

You may find it odd how I chose a poem titled “Hate Poem” to showcase a story about love. Once it is explained there will be a better understanding of where I’m coming from. There are always two sides to any story, so somebody can look at this literally and see that the author has true hatred for the man she is talking about. But there is so much more to the poem. In the poem “Hate Poem” the author expresses how everything she does shows her hate for an ex, I’m assuming. From saying “good morning”, to flicking her wrist there is hate in everything she does. To me it seems the author hates herself for not being able to get over her past partner.  It seems like every little thing brings back old memories so he tries to change his emotions toward her old feelings. The story is a love poem because everything the author does arouses a pleasant memory from her past that he tries to suppress by telling herself she hates it. This poem is very unique because it contradicts itself and I feel can be used for different themes.   Toward the end of the poem the author expresses how she can never get enough of her “hatred” for that person.  So its another piece of evidence to support my analysis, because not too many people enjoy the love of hate. Unless the person is some kind of dark demented individual, so “Hate Poem” can be inferred that it is actually a story about love. Or I can be completely over analyzing it because some women can actually compress hate and continuously show it.

Another love poem worth blogging about is “A Monorhyme for the Shower”.  Just like the poem from earlier this one is also about love. Instead of having to decode this poem it is actually literal. This poem is about the beauty of the author’s companion. In the poem the lady is taking a shower while the author is watching. While he is watching, the author is lost in thought of things that have happened while they were a younger couple. He also explains how beautiful she still is. I assume he is also talking about how her breasts arouse him. “The movement of that buoyant pair is like a spell to make me swear” ( 107). Another reason why this poem is about love is because the author is clearly in love. I enjoyed this poem because it rhymed a lot, and it made the poem sound romantic. I really don’t understand why he is watching her shower, but I guess he must be in love. The poems were both unique and I enjoyed how they portrayed  love.

180 more

Throughout the book 180 more, there are many unique poems, ranging from love, to being born. To me the most interesting poem was Boulevard Du Montparnasse by Mary Jo Salter. The story is about the author who sees a couple in a door way in Paris. She describes how beautiful they were.  I don’t understand how the last sentence the author elaborates how if either person were to ever love a different person there beauty wouldn’t be the same. I think this poem has a meaning to the author. To me it almost feels like she was in a relationship that was great, and she is using this couple in Paris to symbolize what she had. 

Also I think she is portraying how beautiful a relationship between a man and a woman is. This poem is also confusing to me because I’m not too sure to think about it literally or figuratively. A lot of poems we discussed as a class had a greater meaning than I was able to grasp.

I chose this poem because it had to do with love. I feel that love poems are easily the most relatable poems ever written. When the author was talking about the beauty of the couple it is easy to grasp a realistic image. Even though I find the last sentence confusing, I still believe it’s the best line. I interpret that line as the individuals being meant for each other, and if they would to ever break up they would never have the same type of love. This poem also stood out to me because it takes place in Paris, which is proclaimed the “city of love”, so it adds a deeper reality of the poem.

Boulevard Du Montparnasse was a great poem and I feel it also was one of the most interesting. The way the author described the situation of the couple and the real beauty of the relationship was entertaining. I’m looking forward to reading more love related poems, they truly are the definition of poetry.

Stitches, By David Small

In the book Stitches, by David Small, an aspect about the book that grasped my attention were the  surprises and refrences to different stories. For example when I found out the mother was lesbian. Through the whole story there wasn’t any mention or corresponding events that would even give that impression. I also found it awkward how David found his mother in bed with the family friend Mrs. Davis. Throughout Stitches Betty is a very cold woman, who don’t verbally express her emotions.

 Instead David portrays her as always giving sharp stares to simulate her anger. After finishing the story I figured out that most of Betty’s anger isn’t David’s entire fault. To me I felt that she was angry with herself for not being able to express and show who she really was. I still feel that it was wrong for the mother to take the anger she has for herself out on David.

I also found it weird how David used the rabbit from Alice and Wonderland to symbolize his therapist. After discussing it with my fellow peers I realized that he used the rabbit because the therapists enlighten David, as did the Rabbit with Alice. The rabbit helped David realize that his mother didn’t love him. Another way the author uses Alice and Wonderland is through escape. Numerous times David finds comport in his drawings and he even illustrates himself actually going inside a piece of paper into stomach shaped storage where his drawings were waiting for him. 

The Great Zip-Line

When I was younger, my brother and I would stay at my grandmother’s house during the summer while my father worked. Most of the time my cousin Ivan was also with us because his parents worked also.  One summer day, when I was eight, we all decided to build something. Being young we had no idea how to use any tools, so we just used things we knew. The great thing about my grandmother’s house was she had a garage full of any and everything… you name it and it was there. From gardening tools, to boxes of used clothes, and even toys! In front of her house there were two massive trees, they were evenly lined up about 50 feet from each other. That summer day we had a great idea, we decided to build a zip line. 

After a quick scan in my grandparents garage we found a thick strand of rope and for the trolley we had the brilliant idea of using an old rusty hanger. Our plan was simple, find sturdy branches on each tree and securely tie the rope to the branches. It was easier said than done. My brother, cousin and I had one important question. How were we going to get up the massive tree? There were no branches that were close to the ground so my brother was chosen to climb the tree. Ivan and I locked our hands and lifted my brother so he was able to grab a sturdy branch. When we figured he was high enough we threw up the rope for him to tie to the tree. After he had a secure knot he ascended down and jumped out. Hoping the rope would reach the other side, we began to walk to the other tree. For some odd reason the rope was the perfect length and my brother went up to attached it to a sturdy branch. The Zip line was almost as tall as a one story house and it was as tight as a guitar sting.

After flicking the rope a couple of times with a broom, we declared it safe for transportation. I was truly mesmerized because it looked like it would actually work. Knowing that Ivan and I were much bigger, we elected my brother to be the test dummy. After minutes of trying to persuading my brother to try it, he finally gave in. With the rusty hanger in his hand, Ivan and I helped my brother up the tree. I could sense he was nervous, I shouted out some reassuring words. The usual “everything will be fine” and” It’s gonna be fun”. After taking a deep breath he placed the hanger on the rope and leaped off the tree. I remember this part clearly like as it was yesterday. The rope snapped and he fell to the floor. It has to be one of the funniest things I have ever seen. His body looked like one of the stiff manikin from the department stores. Frozen with fear, Alex, my brother, fell feet first. My cousin and I busted out laughing and I almost cried. Alex got up brushed the grass from his pants and began laughing with us.

At that moment all three of us felt like we had built something that was far superior to anything we had done before. Even though it didn’t work we all felt accomplished. To this day all three of us still laugh about it and sometimes we even discuss trying building it again.

The Great Race

I cannot recall the exact year but I can remember what happened. It was a week after Christmas for sure because my brother and I had received brand new bikes. Mine was a maroon colored mongoose bike with black handlebars. As for my brother he received a dark blue mongoose. My brother and I were at my grandparent’s house, which is where we kept our bikes because at that time my mother was living in a tiny apartment so there was no room for them.

It was a bright, hot sunny day when my brother and I decided to go out and take our new bikes for a ride. These bikes were our first ones without training wheels. My dad had taught us how to ride them a week prior so my brother and I felt comfortable using the bike. My brother and I felt like big kids because we didn’t have to use the dreaded baby training wheels anymore. After a couple of drives around the block I decided to race my brother. As I was soon to realize a lot of negative things happen when I come up with ideas. My brother, a year younger than me, agreed to race. The rules were simple; the first one back to our grandparents’ house was the winner. If I can remember correctly, we were only about a hundred yards away from her house. My brother and I were lined up equally to an old beaten up trash can left on the road. We did the usual countdown 3,2,1 and GO! As we took off I remember going pretty fast, things in my peripheral vision quickly faded as I zoomed down the street. Being fairly new to two wheel driving my brother and I were not able to keep the bike going steadily straight. As we got closer to the house, I was able to see our father outside watching the “great race”. My brother and I were equally fast so we were going to tie the race, as I took a glance at him I noticed he was losing control. His bike ran right into me and we both flew off as if we jumped off a swing set. As I hit the pavement, a shot of pain rushed through out my body. Being young I began to cry. Crying seemed like the only thing that would stop the aching. I looked at my elbows and noticed they were covered in blood as were my knees. I looked at my brother who was a couple of feet away from me. He was out cold. My father who was luckily outside ran to him and I limped. As we approached him we saw a puddle of blood near his leg. My father slowly turned him over because he was faced down. What I saw would be burned in my mind forever. His leg was cut open from his knee to half of his leg. I saw a white surface which I was soon able to understand was his bone. My dad in shock called 911 and within ten minutes they were at the house. My brother had to receive twenty stitches. After we left the hospital my brother had to be on crutches for a couple of weeks while his leg recovered. He is fine now and his leg healed great.

This memory will be in my mind for the rest of my life because I feel that it’s my fault. If I would of never had asked to race I would of never had witnessed that horrific event. I also remember this because seeing my brother’s femur was the worst thing I had ever seen at that point.