<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8948133901746344977</id><updated>2011-04-21T22:35:49.170-07:00</updated><title type='text'>$Poetry$</title><subtitle type='html'>Poetry is Art</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetryeducation.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8948133901746344977/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetryeducation.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Noel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06360722114461713398</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>9</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8948133901746344977.post-2599290474352469007</id><published>2007-02-15T21:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-15T21:58:52.082-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Journal #6</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;S – A man&lt;br /&gt;O – A man telling his love one to be honest&lt;br /&gt;A – Those that cheat on others, and those who understand but just want to be told the truth&lt;br /&gt;P – If you lose love for a person just tell them, don’t cheat&lt;br /&gt;S – Loyalty, honesty, love&lt;br /&gt;TONE – subtle demanding and understanding and sad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;Contemporary Poet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Just be real&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#ff6600;"&gt;It may not always be so, and I say&lt;br /&gt;You men and women who deceive others&lt;br /&gt;Why do you do it because if you were lovers&lt;br /&gt;The other would want to know on any given day&lt;br /&gt;If you’re losing interest or no longer want to be amongst one another’s&lt;br /&gt;Arms; don’t put a façade&lt;br /&gt;Even if it’s April and you have been together since last may&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If this should be, I say if this should be –&lt;br /&gt;The heart of the other might be destroyed, but its better than&lt;br /&gt;To be cheated on day after day, and lying in their face&lt;br /&gt;Its just not right, and I wouldn’t want it to happen to me&lt;br /&gt;So don’t lie, be honest, but however you feel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Just be real&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     The way I interpreted “it may not always be so; and I say” by E.E. Cummings is by the speaker being, unfortunately, in a relationship, in which their partner no longer loves them and is with someone else. Therefore, I wanted to make my poem with similar feelings. In life I notice that people are often disloyal to their partners, some to be cool and others because they simply lost love, so I wanted to make it clear to that it’s wrong. In some ways I offer better solutions than cheating on the person one is losing interest in. In my opinion I think it is much better for a person to just brake up with another person rather than cheating on them. Hence, my poem delivers that message that people should just be real.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8948133901746344977-2599290474352469007?l=poetryeducation.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetryeducation.blogspot.com/feeds/2599290474352469007/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8948133901746344977&amp;postID=2599290474352469007' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8948133901746344977/posts/default/2599290474352469007'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8948133901746344977/posts/default/2599290474352469007'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetryeducation.blogspot.com/2007/02/journal-6.html' title='Journal #6'/><author><name>Noel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06360722114461713398</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8948133901746344977.post-6760282130825993863</id><published>2007-02-15T21:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-15T21:55:52.231-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Journal # 5</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;S&lt;/strong&gt; – &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;A man&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O&lt;/strong&gt; – &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Embracing a women or talking to a women&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A&lt;/strong&gt; – &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Female or lover/ To those in love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;P&lt;/strong&gt; – &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Love is blind, but things are more beautiful with love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;S&lt;/strong&gt; - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;TONE&lt;/strong&gt; – &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Serious, lovable&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;                                                   Literary Critic&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;             &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;               &lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;In since feeling is first, E.E. Cummings begins her short but sweet poem with a stanza of four lines. The “who” in the second line, right away, begins ambiguous because it can be interpreted two different ways. One way is by viewing it in a “who does that” way, meaning nobody pays attention to the syntax when in love. The other way one can view this is by “the person who” pays attention will never receive a good quality kiss or the kiss they want. Overall her diction here was perfect because it is up to the reader to decide which way they would prefer to read this. She states that love makes a person blind in line 5 by saying that “wholly to be a fool.” Then in line 7, Cummings uses “my blood” to resemble the speakers own feelings approve. Instead of just saying my strong feelings approve, she used a word that conveys the same meaning, which adds to her metaphorical speaking nature. In lines 7 and 8, it seems as though Cummings is saying that love has a better fate than wisdom, most likely meaning that with too much wisdom can possibly end in disaster. Love can also lead to disaster, but in her case she would prefer love. Cummings ends the poem nice by having the speaker in some ways seducing the female to him with his flattering words. By saying that “life s not a paragraph” (line 15), the speaker is telling his lover that life is not short and take is slow. The message was clearly illustrated up to the last line, and then Cummings ends on an ambiguous note. Moreover, I did not understand the last line, but if I had to guess I would think that she, through the speaker, is trying to say that death is not something to be looked over, like words within a parenthesis.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8948133901746344977-6760282130825993863?l=poetryeducation.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetryeducation.blogspot.com/feeds/6760282130825993863/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8948133901746344977&amp;postID=6760282130825993863' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8948133901746344977/posts/default/6760282130825993863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8948133901746344977/posts/default/6760282130825993863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetryeducation.blogspot.com/2007/02/journal-5.html' title='Journal # 5'/><author><name>Noel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06360722114461713398</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8948133901746344977.post-7229724335967401790</id><published>2007-02-08T20:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-08T20:45:19.176-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;“I am accused of tending to the past” by Lucille Clifton&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;S&lt;/span&gt; - God&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;O&lt;/span&gt; - God reflecting on the accusations of humanity&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt; - Humanity&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;P&lt;/span&gt; - To not blame God for something humans are guilty of&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;S&lt;/span&gt; – History and its creator&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;TONE&lt;/span&gt; – Angry, shocked&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;Literary Critic&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;           &lt;span style="color:#cccccc;"&gt; Lucille Clifton, in my opinion, does a magnificent job of conveying her message in this poem, in such a small passage. The reason I say this is because most of the time she is metaphorically speaking and when a metaphor is presented in any writing, there is a deeper meaning most of the time. I also like the fact that she leaves much ambiguous, but at the same time she doesn’t. The way I interpreted this poem is by the speaker being one of three personas: God, twenty-first century white person, or men today.&lt;br /&gt;            The reason I think the speakers is God is because when I first read this poem it seemed as though someone was being blamed. Then Immediately I thought about God because throughout history people blame God for the things that have happened to either the individual or a group of people. Clifton, through the voice of God, responds by saying that it is not God’s fault, but it is humanity’s fault. God created man and man, not God, created history, so if anything, it is humanity’s fault. Therefore, the audience is humanity and the occasion is a period in which God is reflecting on the accusations people are implying. My interpretation makes it clear on what the purpose of Lucille Clifton’s message is to not blame God for something humans are guilty of. Moreover, the speaker’s tone is at first angry because of the accusations, but turns into a more lesson teaching tone.&lt;br /&gt;            A different way of interpreting this could be the speaker being white people in our generation who might not be racist at all, rather the opposite, and are being blamed by minorities for what happened in past history. Men can also be the speaker because feminist women who blame men today for how men back in history treated women. Although not as good explanation of the speaker being God, they are equally as valid. Lucille Clifton message was clearly stated for me because the way I interpreted, “she is more human now…(until the end).” Is that History is in the making even today. Back to the interpretation of God being the speaker, He is warning them because He sees what is in story for us, humanity, as History grows.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8948133901746344977-7229724335967401790?l=poetryeducation.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetryeducation.blogspot.com/feeds/7229724335967401790/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8948133901746344977&amp;postID=7229724335967401790' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8948133901746344977/posts/default/7229724335967401790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8948133901746344977/posts/default/7229724335967401790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetryeducation.blogspot.com/2007/02/i-am-accused-of-tending-to-past-by.html' title=''/><author><name>Noel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06360722114461713398</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8948133901746344977.post-343733299802315197</id><published>2007-02-08T20:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-04T20:18:06.274-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Poetry Journal #3</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Forgetfulness by Billy Collins&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;S – A person curious of why things aren’t remembered&lt;br /&gt;O – Seeing something familiar but does not recall exactly&lt;br /&gt;A – those who forget&lt;br /&gt;P – to say that it is normal for people to forget&lt;br /&gt;S – function of brain capacity of memory&lt;br /&gt;TONE – confused&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;failure to remember&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The name of an author&lt;br /&gt;I don’t even know&lt;br /&gt; Let alone remember&lt;br /&gt;If it’s a good one&lt;br /&gt;The plot might stay&lt;br /&gt;                                                                           Not 4 forever&lt;br /&gt;But as of today&lt;br /&gt;Some say….&lt;br /&gt;If you forgot&lt;br /&gt; it might not have been important in the first place&lt;br /&gt;Or important today&lt;br /&gt;For instance the name of all the &lt;span style="color:#ffccff;"&gt;p&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;o&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;w&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;e&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;r&lt;/span&gt; rangers&lt;br /&gt;Because you simply grew out of that memory&lt;br /&gt;For some things involving geometry that you initially&lt;br /&gt;Didn’t even learn&lt;br /&gt; so confusion occurs when it                                        appears&lt;br /&gt;Whatever it is that we don’t remember&lt;br /&gt;Was obviously not in your mind to stay&lt;br /&gt;And will make us think we didn’t even know it in the first place&lt;br /&gt;But something peculiar&lt;br /&gt;about it&lt;br /&gt;Will be familiar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The reason I decided to make a poem sort of in response to this poem is because this is something I am a victim of; forgetting. I enjoyed the poem’s list of things so I decided to make my own in some way that could connect to this poem and some of my observations. The animation to this poem in some ways instilled a certain tone in my mind which was some what like passive or tiresome. For some reason the poem had a point, but not the most powerful one and philosophical, so I wanted mine to be the same. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8948133901746344977-343733299802315197?l=poetryeducation.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetryeducation.blogspot.com/feeds/343733299802315197/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8948133901746344977&amp;postID=343733299802315197' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8948133901746344977/posts/default/343733299802315197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8948133901746344977/posts/default/343733299802315197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetryeducation.blogspot.com/2007/02/poetry-journal-3.html' title='Poetry Journal #3'/><author><name>Noel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06360722114461713398</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8948133901746344977.post-7093777966017462802</id><published>2007-02-04T12:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-04T12:57:45.526-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Journal #2</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Everything the power of the world is done in a circle&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;S-Native American reflection on his circular observations&lt;br /&gt;O-Observing life and nature around us&lt;br /&gt;A-Other Native Americans or those who view life the same&lt;br /&gt;P-to convey own thought about life and send a message&lt;br /&gt;S-the world, life, and circles&lt;br /&gt;TONE-Philosophical, analytical, and understanding&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again, a poem that in some ways relates to me. The reason I say this is because the narrator does the same as I do; observe what is happening around me. What the author of the poem observes connects to life or the world today. Many things today take circular paths. For instance: People go from home to school or work and back, food is grown, cooked consumed, then digested, people recycle, and all of the world elements are taken, but returned. People go in a circular path as they go from being born, to growing up, reproducing, and then dying. All the elements for humanity are created in the mother’s wound and returned when the body decomposes at the graveyard. Animals circle around their pretty, certain dances are done in circles, when animals go to sleep they circle around the ground. Clocks go round, the season, and weather, go in circular motions. Many people might notice it, but don’t take the time to realize what is happening in the world around us. Many people are concentrated on making money, not knowing it is going to go back through the same system they received it from. Wars, disease, virus, death, life, and people come and go. When people shoot guns, their shooting round of bullets, when people rap the go for rounds, when people box they go rounds, many sports balls are circular, and the game go back and forth. I myself am making circles around pools when I clean them. Circular motion is part of life. Regardless of what people try to do, it will stay in motion. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8948133901746344977-7093777966017462802?l=poetryeducation.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetryeducation.blogspot.com/feeds/7093777966017462802/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8948133901746344977&amp;postID=7093777966017462802' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8948133901746344977/posts/default/7093777966017462802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8948133901746344977/posts/default/7093777966017462802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetryeducation.blogspot.com/2007/02/journal-2.html' title='Journal #2'/><author><name>Noel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06360722114461713398</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8948133901746344977.post-5557867983762498967</id><published>2007-02-01T22:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-01T22:19:25.470-08:00</updated><title type='text'>49</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_9zz_-5eXKp8/RcLXrWH5k0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/llwpZbqxyDc/s1600-h/IMG_1204.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5026817273771955010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_9zz_-5eXKp8/RcLXrWH5k0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/llwpZbqxyDc/s320/IMG_1204.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:180%;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;28 and more to come&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8948133901746344977-5557867983762498967?l=poetryeducation.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetryeducation.blogspot.com/feeds/5557867983762498967/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8948133901746344977&amp;postID=5557867983762498967' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8948133901746344977/posts/default/5557867983762498967'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8948133901746344977/posts/default/5557867983762498967'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetryeducation.blogspot.com/2007/02/49.html' title='49'/><author><name>Noel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06360722114461713398</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_9zz_-5eXKp8/RcLXrWH5k0I/AAAAAAAAAAM/llwpZbqxyDc/s72-c/IMG_1204.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8948133901746344977.post-2748610245266218248</id><published>2007-02-01T21:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-01T22:02:01.974-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Homework</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;We Wear the Mask&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;S&lt;/strong&gt; – A great observer, who sees themselves fallowing society.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;O&lt;/strong&gt; – It can either be a daily observation of things or a person about to enter society&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A&lt;/strong&gt; – the audience is for those who do and do not where the mask&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;P&lt;/strong&gt; – the purpose is to convey that society forces people to “wear the mask.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;S&lt;/strong&gt; – Society, mask, and putting a front or façade&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tone&lt;/strong&gt; – to inform of the situation the person is in and the society lived in&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Personal Response:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;Although I have read this poem several times before, I find it extremely interesting and truthful. I am also drawn to the poem because I can relate; not only because I see similar things in my society, but also I find myself observing things most of the time. The way I interpreted the poem was by the mask being a façade that everyone posses. Sometimes it is physically visible, but most of the time is something not seen. This mask that we, and I say we because I am a victim to the same society that the person in the poem is speaking of, wear is put on right when we step out of our own self. Examples of people who I see wear the mask, are people who are fronting about their money, about their culture, about their accomplishments, and other things that will cause one to “fit” in society. A perfectly good example is when someone says, “hi, how are you doing?” and some one naturally says yes to when in reality are burning inside and dieing slowly. People who are struggling to survive don’t want to make it know so they hide their situation behind this mask. This mask that we wear is full of lies and mainstream. People trying to hide their true identity or trying to go beyond their level by acting differently wear the mask. Acceptance into society is something everyone wants. People will go to the extreme and get nose, face, butt, breast, or stomach surgeries. Some will try to lose weight, have a certain style, like certain music, wear make up, or wear certain clothes. Others will gang bang, do drugs, drop out, be thugs, and live the fast life. No one is their own unique, talented, gifted self because regardless of what ones’ characteristics are one is never satisfied. People are born with good intentions, but society corrupts them. People wore the mask centuries ago, people wear the mask today, and people will continue to wear the mask because society will never change.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8948133901746344977-2748610245266218248?l=poetryeducation.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetryeducation.blogspot.com/feeds/2748610245266218248/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8948133901746344977&amp;postID=2748610245266218248' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8948133901746344977/posts/default/2748610245266218248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8948133901746344977/posts/default/2748610245266218248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetryeducation.blogspot.com/2007/02/homework.html' title='Homework'/><author><name>Noel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06360722114461713398</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8948133901746344977.post-6403039884141397769</id><published>2007-01-28T14:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-28T14:25:10.250-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Discovering my Voice</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Some people have found their voice, but others haven’t, or just don’t know they have a voice. As for me, I have not found or recognized my voice. Since I don’t write much I don’t know what it could be, and when I do write its for Laura, so you can imagine what voice that is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies&lt;/em&gt;. (Aristotle)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8948133901746344977-6403039884141397769?l=poetryeducation.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetryeducation.blogspot.com/feeds/6403039884141397769/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8948133901746344977&amp;postID=6403039884141397769' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8948133901746344977/posts/default/6403039884141397769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8948133901746344977/posts/default/6403039884141397769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetryeducation.blogspot.com/2007/01/discovering-my-voice.html' title='Discovering my Voice'/><author><name>Noel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06360722114461713398</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8948133901746344977.post-4677149288783506622</id><published>2007-01-28T14:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-28T14:20:46.884-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Poetic Language</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#ff0000;"&gt;I think that there is not a set definition for poetic language. Everyone has there own meaning of what is poetic language, but for me poetic language can be anything a writer or person decides to say or write. Since poetry is different for one person to another, so is poetic language. It can be the form one writes, style, vocabulary, grammar, diction, and even the actual language being conveyed. Poetic language is used in everyday life which serves as a means of expressing oneself. So it can be defined as ones own unique voice. Just like artists have their forms of understanding their own art work, poetry is the same because poetry is a form of art.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8948133901746344977-4677149288783506622?l=poetryeducation.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetryeducation.blogspot.com/feeds/4677149288783506622/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8948133901746344977&amp;postID=4677149288783506622' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8948133901746344977/posts/default/4677149288783506622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8948133901746344977/posts/default/4677149288783506622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetryeducation.blogspot.com/2007/01/poetic-language.html' title='Poetic Language'/><author><name>Noel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06360722114461713398</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
