Carnation Milk

Okay, I just can't translate this without writing it down for ya'll to see.

This poem is from an anonymous writer, who apparently speaks bluntly.

"Carnation Milk is the best in the land;

Here I sit with a can in my hand--

No tits to pull, no hay to pitch,

You just punch a hole in the son of a bitch"

OKAY SO NOW THAT YOU'VE READ IT WITH YOUR OWN EYES...I LITERALLY CANNOT UNDERSTAND WHY THIS WOULD EVEN BE PUBLISH WORTHY. I mean hey, I love me some carnation milk, so I guess you could say I can relate to its positively sinful milky goodness. Its just interesting how bluntly passionate a person can be over something so simple as evaporated milk. Love knows no boundaries because clearly this anonymous poet is speaking their mind on a level so peculiar. 

I don't know why, and I hope I am not coming off racist or anything but I get the hunch this person lives a redneck life and just have this image of him sitting on a stool out in the west with a beer gut, gritted teeth holding a hay stem, and a dirty red plaid shirt drinking this excessively poked can of carnation milk. 

.........BUT MAYBE ITS JUST ME...........hehe

"Oh No" by Robert Creeley

I feel as if all my blog posts have been focusing on the random selections I've made of the poems offered in this book. And yet again, I say to you, I was merely scanning through the book when I found this short and convenient poem "Oh No" on page 515.

Well than, shall we begin to analyze?

Its comparatively short to the previous poems I've spoken about. The first line brought me to a wondrous mentality, and I quote "If you wander far enough you will come to it..". It reminds me of a line of another poem, "All That is Gold Does Not Glitter" written by J. R. R. Tolkein.

And that quote is, "Not all those who wander are lost".

I could be mocking through my perception, but there seems to be more connection than I knew.
ANYWAY....the poem comes off heaven like. As if this were a journey, passing by the act of death and being reborn in heaven, when he states " and when you get there they will have a place for you to sit for yourself only, and in a nice chair.."

Interestingly enough, the analysis given after, on the next page, breaks it down to that same conclusion/perception. And I read that before I could conclude my thoughts. This poem may be short, but there is meaning branching out endlessly through every line, and to me, word. Fascinating how poems alternate and resemble differently, or at least to some, could be.

Young Goodman Brown

I really didn't like this story. I think its because it was super long and uninteresting.  The plot twost at the end though did catch my surprise. Funny how yhe majority works, hypocrisy and all..how you could appear one way but store a secret life away from the "angelic" image..much like his wife did. I feel like the beginning and middle of the store was extra information..of course it led to its shocking finale, but it was just dreadful to read. At least in my opinion. So thankful young goodman brown was not an assigned topic for our research paper...haha.

Love Calls Us to the Things of This World by Richard Wilbur, p. 555-556

I was feeling poetic so I started reading off poem titles that I felt spoke to me in some sense..

The title immediately caught my attention, its so earthy and so romantic. As I was reading I came to find that it wasn't. At least not as much as I expected. Wilbur uses great use of imagination to what I perceived he was translating as heavenly sleep. The way he describes the routine up in this heaven-like place with these angels makes you want to appreciate and anxiously await the nightfall so that you, too, could bask in this experience. I like how he takes you from one scene to the next, how sleep if followed by dreams, followed by awakening in this chronological order. Simple yet interesting how he spices up the routine with his choice of words.

This poem resembles a lot of my own, but in a more skilled way. My imagination could spin towards the same concept but the depth is far more thought-provoking.

*THUMBS UP FOR WILBUR*

My Papas Waltz

Again I find myself scanning through this book from time to time and yet I find this poem catches my attention. 

The way I interpret this is a drunken abusive love between a father and his child. But what makes me curious is how much of an abusive love this is, if at all. 

Ex: (first stanza) The whiskey on your breath could make a small boy dizzy; but I hung on like death: such waltzing was not easy...

the tone of this poem is depressing and puts weight as you are reading it..kind of like you are the child itself experiencing this drunken man you call father. At least that is what I got from it. I feel I get an abusive tone from this because of the word death. Not sure if that is at all relevant but yeah....

Sylvia Plath, "Metaphors" (p.582)

As I was scanning through the text book I landed on a page where I suprisingly found a short poem by Slyvia Plath. Surprising because from the works I've read of hers, I took/take interest.

But anyway...I read this poem about 5 times and still was left taking away 2 things from it...or at least what I think I did. And that was setting and line to line analysis. By that I mean the way she described the setting, it came off as tropic. And by analysis, the first line "I'm a riddle in nine syllables" gave me the curiosity to count the syllables in the lines singularly. Whadddaya know...every syllable count was exactly 9. Thinking on it now, its a clever way to start off a poem introducing or stating clues hidden between lines. I don't know if anyone else would have checked but just a thought.And come to think of it, in her poem, her choice of diction allows me to imagine the charcter in her poem is a wealthy person simply vacationing, sightseeing, and getting off. Now, I could be entirely off track but thats just how I personally percieve it.

Interesting poem, but for me, Plath has better works.

Homie, what's up with that dove...???ლ(́◉◞౪◟◉‵ლ)

ANNA SEXTON'S "CINDERELLA 

Okay, so this is your basic fairytale with a splash of modern script put into it. I can't say I heavily applaud this poem, but for the most part, it was interesting how she worded it. Out of many Cinderella stories told, this was a pretty chill read (aside from it being so long) oy vey! (o;TωT)o

Continuing on... I don't know why but I like the line "from diapers to Dior", in the second stanza, but I feel its because I actually own products from that brand...so that connection was unexpected. The story still bases a lot of the original story which is also good because I personally don't like a lot of mix up and interpretation on such a commonly known story such as this one. But whoa, what is up with that amputation...can you say DESPERATE?! And that violence in persistence. And by this I mean a white dove is supposed to symbolize serenity and purity, but reading how the dove pecked these poor girls blind, the fate was unjust. Or was it? Either way, having this modernized was very direct and descriptive in ways more than one.

The Yellow Wallpaper~

For some reason I felt a lot of sympathy for the sickly woman. As much love as her husband intended to show, it seemed like he was suppressing any freedom at all. Although his intentions were good, I think it would have been best to let her air out and give her the space she needed. As I was reading, the way in which she described the room (with the yellow wall paper) it gave me a lot of imagery of something similar to a haunted house, and I think I remember her character even mentioning that. It played out really well in my head because I made the connection to the film"Mama" and "The Messengers" because in both films the throughout some scenes not only kids were involved but as well as the black grime forming in the wall making it dirty and stained. I don't know if that's even relevant but..yeah. I am also going to assume that this was a time where women were best not speak or show much intelligence, at least not so much that males would be threatened, because the father and brother agreed her sickness  was caused by her writing. It seems in this time period if a women were to self express herself or show interest in any form of literature, she'd be reprimanded or pushed to believe something nonsensical such as this "cause of sickness". But, its encouraging to see that even behind the factual reason for her "poor health", she anonymously kept pushing her self to enjoy her writing and form of self expression. Bravo to that!

My Thoughts on Kate Chopin's "The Storm"

Just by reading Kate Chopin, as discussed in class, it seems she was misunderstood from different areas in her life and overall opinion of things. 

The Storm was definitely an interesting read. I thought I was actually reading a part of a bigger story so when I found out that it was from beginning to end, that was interesting. 
As I was reading, it just stroke me as kind of funny how literally almost every character was committing adultery and seemed to be just fine about it. I wonder if this story has any relevance to Kate's own personal experience before her husband passed away. Who knows right? Honestly thought, Calixta seems like a promiscuous bitch and makes me wonder if she's had a problem with infidelity more than once. Like how is your husband so humble and so honest and worried, bringing you cans of shrimp, and you're over here crafting/sewing with not a worry in the world allowing to give yourself up to this man you once had relations with. I would say her ex lover as well, but it just seemed like his relationship with is current wife wasn't going so well in the first place being that she too wanted some sort of freedom and agreed on staying longer, whoever she was. Couldn't you keep your distance? What's even more annoying is that Calixta and her ex lover were influenced only out of lust and not an unfinished or unresolved romance. Like maybe there was a forced separation in between and perhaps they still loved each other. Not that it'd still be morally acceptable but just less out of dirty intentions. I don't know..that's just how I personally see it. 

Overall, I do respect Kate's desire of freedom through her literature to some extent. 

CAN YOU SAY GENIUS?! (Edgar Allen Poe's "A Tell-Tale Heart")

 May I just personally say that Poe is revolutionary in the realm of poetic literature.

Yes, to some, his stories are a bit much to handle. I can understand that completely. I guess it's
 preference related, and for me, Poe is an accurate attention grabber. If it isn't already obvious, my
 liking to his work is not newly discovered. One of the many grotesque writers (because he certainly is). The last time having read this particular piece was my senior year? This definitely refreshed my memory on what this story was about. I noticed by every contemplative thought he had on killing this old man was followed by some sort of self-justification to insure that he wasn't a mad man. But my thing is, those who are mad will never admit to their unhealthy state of mind, simply because they're truly mad in the eyes of morality/outer perspective. I thought that was an interesting observation throughout most of the story. I never understood why he'd rather reveal his crimes over a "ringing in his ears" (or rather "ringing of guilt") instead of asking the officers to leave? Like why dude, why? If everything went so smoothly as it seemed the officers wouldn't have gotten offended, at least I don't think so. All that was need was a simple excuse of "oh sorry, I'm tired gentleman". Again this reaction of guilt is very much linked to his insanity, an undeniable and projective insanity. So do any of you think in the end he somewhat realizes the error of his ways or of his mental state?

Something to think about!~