"trifles"

Nov. 9th, 2013 02:39 am
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by Susan Glaspell.

Trifles by Susan Glaspell, by D'moiselles Production

 

 
explorations of the text

2. what clues lead the women to conclude that Minnie Wright killed her husband?

     some of the important clues that lead the women's conclusion of the murder was the little hints, 'trifles' as you might say it, that they have noticed around the house. they first noted the the incomplete tasks in Minnie's kitchen, which argued the fact that she acted very soon after some sort of provocation, like something hurried disturbed her work in the kitchen that it was left unattended. next would be the contrasting quality of the patchwork of Minnie's quilt; indicating that something had happened while she was working on it. and then there's the dead bird and its's broken cage; a major clue that indicates a form of violence once occurred judging by the animal's wrung neck. because the women know how Minnie used to love singing they came into a conclusion that the bird's death was a crucial indication of a provocation; one that's enough to serve as a motive for a domestic murder.


3. how do the men differ from the women? from each other?

     the men's depiction in Trifles differs in terms of their perspective and tactfulness. the three men in the play; Court Attorney, Sheriff and Hale displayed their ignorance for details and seemed to only see things from the surface. for example they only noticed the unruly state of the kitchen being left on but they do not pause to ponder the reason why the housework was left incomplete. instead, they kept letting out a series of brash and dismissal remarks regarding the skill of women as a housekeeper and belittling their traits as "trifles". from this ignorance of details the men also differs from the women in empathy. women in this play understand what life is for other women while the men don't. they are completely uninterested in emotional response, which the women are in tune with in their discoveries of the pieces of Minnie's life. and because these men were generally depicted as condescending being in the play, they do not differ from each other much. the court attorney exudes an air of professionality in his inquiries but dismisses the female interest in minor details of domesticity; a sentiment shared by the sheriff and the farmer (Hale) when they too teases the women for their fussing over 'trifling' matters.


4. what do the men discover? why did they conclude "nothing here but kitchen things"? what do the women discover?

     the men found no worthy evidence that's convictive as the motive to the murder and in addition have come no closer to the revelations made by Mrs. Peters and Mrs. Hale. the court attorney has an intuitive sense for the evidence, as shown in his references to the quilt and the birdcage, but because he only looks at external rather than internal clues he fails to ascribe significance to the correct factor. he says, "It's all perfectly clear except a reason for doing it," suggesting that a panel of males, such as a contemporary jury, will never comprehend Mrs. Wright's motives, although they are by now clear to the audience. their conclusion of "nothing here but kitchen things" shows their disregard of details and values that surrounds a woman's life, hence the dismissive remarks of the kitchen's significance. meanwhile the women discovered the aiding motive of the murder through their little findings around the kitchen; a motive of which they had chosen to hid from the men.

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“To live is to war with trolls.” 
― Henrik Ibsen

 

Norwegian playwright and poet Henrik Ibsen (1828 – 1906) created twenty-six plays and a volume of poetry. He is noted for his nationalistic spirit and for exploring Europe’s social problems during the 1800s. Critics both past and present have praised his realistic approach to drama and his well-developed characters. He is especially renowned for depicting female characters—such as Nora of A Doll’s House and Hedda Gabler herself—who rebel against the limited roles prescribed for them. Even though Ibsen’s plays were scandalous in their own time, Ibsen’s sense of social engagement, his fascination with symbolism, and his attention to psychological detail inspired many of the most influential writers of the 20th century.

The story of his life -- his birth March 20, 1828, in the little Norwegian village of Skien, the change in family circumstances from prosperity to poverty when the boy was eight years old, his studious and non-athletic boyhood, his apprenticeship to an apothecary in Grimstad, and his early attempts at dramatic composition -- all these items are well known. His spare hours were spent in preparation for entrance to Christiania University, where, at about the age of twenty, he formed a friendship with Björnson. About 1851 the violinist Ole Bull gave Ibsen the position of "theater poet" at the newly built National Theater in Bergen -- a post which he held for six years. In 1857 he became director of the Norwegian Theater in Christiania; and in 1862, with Love's Comedy, became known in his own country as a playwright of promise.

Seven years later, discouraged with the reception given to his work and out of sympathy with the social and intellectual ideals of his country, he left Norway, not to return for a period of nearly thirty years. He established himself first at Rome, later in Munich. Late in life he returned to Christiania, where he died May 23, 1906

taken from:

http://www.theatredatabase.com/19th_century/henrik_ibsen_001.html [Hendrik Ibsen]
http://www.glogster.com/m00naa/henrik-ibsen/g-6mfd57p5n6b25262s9sela0 [image credit]

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“Come, little one, and let us learn of love.” 
― Susan Glaspell
 

born in Davenport, Iowa, Glaspell did not teach like most career-minded women of her time but rather became a reporter for the Davenport Morning Republican and later the society editor for Davenport's Weekly Outlook. In 1897, she enrolled at Drake University in Des Moines. She later entered the University of Chicago for graduate work in English, and in 1909, her first novel, The Glory of the Conquered, was published. Glaspell married George Cram Cook, founder of the Provincetown Players drama group of Provincetown, Massachusetts. The Players performed several of her dramatic works including Trifles (1916).

among her full-length plays are Bernice (1919) and the Pulitzer Prize-winning Alison's House. Her novels include The Visioning (1911), The Road to the Temple (1927), and Norma Ashe (1942). Many of her works depict women's lives throughout history, from the pioneers of the 1840s to the war widows of the 1940s.

rebelling early against the expectations imposed on women of her era, Glaspell grappled with the conflict between Victorian mores and feminist aspirations throughout her life. In Trifles, now recognized as a groundbreaking feminist drama, she explored the reasons for a woman's extreme response to her husband's demanding, authoritarian stance.

taken from:

http://www.icgov.org/?id=1645 [Susan Glaspell (1876-1948) - City of Iowa City]
http://www.lib.uiowa.edu/spec-coll/msc/tomsc800/msc798/msc798_glaspellsusan.htm [image credit]

 

 

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on last Monday of 20th October, our Poetry and Drama class was blessed with the opportunity of listening to a talk by Mr. Refaat Alareer; a young academic and writer from Gaza who blogs at thisisgaza.wordpress.com.

quotes from his "About " section in his blog:

"We have come to realise that it is through words and writing that the Zionist movement managed to occupy Palestine well before the actual infiltration that ended in occupying the whole land of Palestine killing and displacing millions of Palestinian unarmed civilians. So, we decided to Write Back. We endeavour to use all efforts and pens and to gather all material there is that helps promote our cause to enlighten both ourselves and all the peoples of the world.

We welcome all contributions that help support that Palestinian cause and the Gaza situation in particular. Any attempt to expose the atrocities of the Israeli occupation as well as their violation of all basic human rights is appreciated."

Mr. Refaat started the talk with a brief historical review regarding Palestine and the occupation of the Jews, he showed us through the geographical maps of Palestine then and now on how the population of the people of Palestine has decreased greatly over the years.

moving on to a more relevant subject, as advocated in his about me section quoted above mr. Refaat talks about the use of writing, especially poems as an important tool of resistance to defy the occupation. he recommended few notable Palestinian poet such as Mahmoud Darwish, Tamim Bargouti, Susan Abulhawa and some other more.

mr. Refaat also gave his inputs regarding steps or inspiration to be taken in order to write poetry; he emphasizes on keeping the ideas recorded, as they might proved to be useful for inspirations later. he encourages the practice of freewriting, references to lots of other famous works and the aim of writing; whether it is as a tool of interest or resistance. he was generous enough to do a reading and short analysis of his work of poems, as well as explaining the messages and his motives behind each work. among the titles of the work are I Am You, Freshly Baked Soul, If I must Die and many more.

all in all, it was a truly enlightening morning talk; to be able to listen directly from someone who were actually a part of this war of resistance we so often only hear before through the medias. all of us were truly grateful to mr. Refaat for his time and dedication, and we wish for all the best for him, his fight and his journey.




links: 
thisisgaza.wordpress.com/
twitter.com/ThisIsGaZa



war poetry

Oct. 17th, 2013 01:08 am
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 notes

What is War Poetry?


 
"There’s things in war one dare not tell poor father sitting safe at home. "
-Siegfried Sassoon
 


-writings in time of and on the subject of war
-young soldier poets of the First World War established war poetry as a literary genre. 
-as a way of striving to express extreme emotion at the very edge of experience
-is not necessarily ‘anti-war’; it's about the very large questions of life: identity, innocence, guilt, loyalty, courage, compassion, humanity, duty, desire, death
-poets whose work appeared between 1914 and 1918 were not involved in fighting. The Times supplement, War Poems, August, 1914–15, for example, included contributions from established civilian poets such as Robert Bridges, Rudyard Kipling, Laurence Binyon, and Thomas Hardy
-First World War trench poetry was a unique phenomenon whereby testimony and poetry were yoked together, both registering new forms of violence, and the war-torn male body was the central subject; set against the abstract language of heroism, and became the ground of protest. 
-twentieth century produced poets who sometimes chose to concentrate their writing on the horrifying effects of war on civilians




“The rank stench of those bodies haunts me still”
by Siegfried Sassoon


 
The rank stench of those bodies haunts me still
And I remember things I'd best forget.
For now we've marched to a green, trenchless land
Twelve miles from battering guns: along the grass
Brown lines of tents are hives for snoring men;
Wide, radiant water sways the floating sky
Below dark, shivering trees. And living-clean
Comes back with thoughts of home and hours of sleep.
To-night I smell the battle; miles away
Gun-thunder leaps and thuds along the ridge;
The spouting shells dig pits in fields of death,
And wounded men, are moaning in the woods.
If any friend be there whom I have loved,
God speed him safe to England with a gash.
It's sundown in the camp; some youngster laughs,
Lifting his mug and drinking health to all
Who come unscathed from that unpitying waste:
(Terror and ruin lurk behind his gaze.)
Another sits with tranquil, musing face,
Puffing bis pipe and dreaming of the girl
Whose last scrawled letter lies upon his knee.
The sunlight falls, low-ruddy from the west,
Upon their heads. Last week they might have died
And now they stretch their limbs in tired content.
One says 'The bloody Bosche has got the knock;
'And soon they'll crumple up and chuck their games.
'We've got the beggars on the run at last!'
Then I remembered someone that I'd seen
Dead in a squalid, miserable ditch,
Heedless of toiling feet that trod him down.
He was a Prussian with a decent face,
Young, fresh, and pleasant, so 1 dare to say.
No doubt he loathed the war and longed for peace,
And cursed our souls because we'd killed bis friends.
One night he yawned along a haIf-dug trench
Midnight; and then the British guns began
With heavy shrapnel bursting low, and 'hows'
Whistling to cut the wire with blinding din.
He didn't move; the digging still went on;
Men stooped and shovelled; someone gave a grunt,
And moaned and died with agony in the sludge.
Then the long hiss of shells lifted and stopped.
He stared into the gloom; a rocket curved,
And rifles rattled angrily on the left
Down by the wood, and there was noise of bombs.
Then the damned English loomed in scrambling haste
Out of the dark and struggled through the wire,
And there were shouts and eurses; someone screamed
And men began to blunder down the trench
Without their rifles. It was time to go:
He grabbed his coat; stood up, gulping some bread;
Then clutched his head and fell.
I found him there
In the gray morning when the place was held.
His face was in the mud; one arm flung out
As when he crumpled up; his sturdy legs
Were bent beneath bis trunk; heels to the skye. 


 
references:

http://www.warpoets.org/articles/what/
http://www.oxforddnb.com/public/themes/95/95402.html
http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/5890
 
 
 
 
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 what does one associates with when it comes to the word 'drama'?

"a play of life."

"elaborate."

"staged."

these are some of the responses recorded, indicating that drama is something of a work that is complexly expressive of life but yet presentable to be staged. in a technical term, drama is a prose or verse composition, especially one telling a serious story, that is intended for representation by actors impersonating the characters and performing the dialogue and action. (freedictionary.com)

among the earliest works of drama are some of Shakespeare's like Hamlet and Oedipus by Sophocles; which brings the focus of the genre of tragedy. another generic division of the drama genre is comedy, notable through such work as Every Man In His Humour by Ben Jonson in the Jacobean era.

oftentimes drama were accompanied by music to liven up the essence of the story as well as a mean to rouse and stir the audience in further indulgent of the play. in ancient times plays associate dances too in their stage and that brings to the development of much other aspects of drama; the stages, the theaters, the set ups and most important of all; the elaborate plot.

in modern times drama has revolutionized into a more critical purposes. no longer confined only for merrily elaborate stages, modern time dramas focuses more on the complexities of the plot/play and the messages it intended to project onto the audience. drama also has been adapted into a genre for modern medias such as radios and televisions, while retaining its definition of  a highly emotional and turbulent sequence.

in essence, drama the rawest sense can be said as a stage of life; presented theatrically to reflect quirks of human nature.
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"a form of expression."

"articulate verses."

"an art."

these are some of associations students came up with when asked about what poetry is. from here we can see the essences of poetry through the chosen keywords of "expression", "verses", and "art".

in a more technical term; poetry or in ancient Greek known as "poieo" meaning "I create" is an art form in which human language is used for its aesthetic qualities in addition to, or instead of, its notional and semantic content. It consists largely of oral or literary works in which language is used in a manner that is felt by its user and audience to differ from ordinary prose. (poetry.org)

from the above cited definition it is known that poetry utilizes language for an expressive and aesthetic purposes that's meant to be felt, and it was created firstly through oral before it was transferred into a more articulate written language. among the first poetry form to exist was Anglo-Saxon's "Beowulf", which were sung and hymm'd throughout the ages before the English language was further developed.

combining rhythmic verses and stories, poetry was first utilized as a medium  to upholds tales and myth before poets take further liberty in using poetry form as a more personal voice. soon, more and more voice concerning various aspects of life such as love, nature, family, death, society starting to fill out the genres of poetry; expanding it to larger purposes rather than just a personal solace.
such liberties and creativity can be seen through the work of epics such as Odyssey, Othello, as well as satires like Canterbury Tales.

in modern times, poetry has developed far than just expressive measure. it is now more utilized as a voice of criticism, concerns, and oftentimes laden with satires and sharp connotations. such works can be seen from writers like Mark Twain, and Kurt Vonnegut.

in short, poetry has went beyond the mere word of "expression"; its purposes covers all intends such as art, solace, fight and struggle.



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by Marilyn Chin.


You go home one evening tired from work,
and your mother boils you turtle soup.
Twelve hours hunched over the hearth
(who knows what else is in that cauldron).
 
You say, “Ma, you’ve poached the symbol of long life;
that turtle lived four thousand years, swam
the Wei, up the Yellow, over the Yangtze.
Witnessed the Bronze Age, the High Tang,
grazed on splendid sericulture.”
(So, she boils the life out of him.)
 
”All our ancestors have been fools.
Remember Uncle Wu who rode ten thousand miles
to kill a famous Manchu and ended up
with his head on a pole? Eat, child,
its liver will make you strong.”
 
”Sometimes you’re the life, sometimes the sacrifice.”
Her sobbing is inconsolable.
So, you spread that gentle napkin
over your lap in decorous Pasadena.
 
Baby, some high priestess has got it wrong.
The golden decal on the green underbelly
says “Made in Hong Kong.”
 
Is there nothing left but the shell
and humanity’s strange inscriptions,
the songs, the rites, the oracles?



Copyright © 1993 by Marilyn Chin 
Published in: Chin, Marilyn. 1993. The Phoenix Gone, The Terrace Empty. Milkweed Editions. 


explorations of the text


1. notice the author's choice of the word "cauldron" in line 4. what images or connection does this word evoke? why might the author have chosen "cauldron" rather than "pot"?

    the choice of the word "cauldron" justifies its weigh to the poem's context as a thing, specifically a pottery of the past, making it relevant to the questions of traditional values inherent throughout the verses (as compared to the use of the word "pot" which would hold less significant values to the themes of culture brought up in the poem).


2. Chin refers to the "the Wei," "the Yellow," and "the Yangtze." why does she reference these rivers in China? Why not include the Nile, the Amazon, or the Mississippi?

    she reference those rivers in China because the poem deals particularly about the Chinese tradition and it's values; and in this case the rivers holds significant values to the questions of tradition in the poem, as opposed to other rivers or places that are not in concern of the Chinese traditional context.


3. what is the tone of the poem?
   
    as for the tone of the poem, i would go with incredulous as the nature of interaction between the persona and her mother in the verses shows how she was berating and preaching her mother about the values of the turtle in the preservation side of the tradition instead of the practices, i.e. eating it.


ideas for writing

"sometimes you're the life, sometimes the sacrifice."

write about this quote within the context of an immigrant family. what might a family gain or lose by moving to a new land?


   the context of "life" here might refers to the identity and cultural background that an immigrant carries with him/her. it is "life" because it is the root of their origin and it serves as the basis of who and what they are; culturally. when an immigrant is asked a simple questions of 'where do they came from' the answers to that was often the "life" itself summed up in an undervalued rephrase of (for e.g.) "I came from China," or "I am a Chinese-American," in which these answers carries their own context of "life" that holds an identity and the core definition carried by an immigrant.

  the turn of "the sacrifice" in context of an immigrant family here is when they have to release this "life" identities of them in order to adapt to a new one; another "life" in a foreign land of differing values. their traditions became the cost of fitting in and settling down that over time all that's left to them immigrants is the "shell" of their identities; of inheritances that has lost it's significant value. of course as most 'sacrifices' goes they do not exchange in vain; these families should know what they are truly in for by making this big move of immigrating in the first place. they gain a new life, a redefined identity and an overturned posterity for life; in losing their "life".
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 by Amiri Baraka.


Lately, I've become accustomed to the way
The ground opens up and envelopes me
Each time I go out to walk the dog.
Or the broad edged silly music the wind
Makes when I run for a bus...
 
Things have come to that.
 
And now, each night I count the stars.
And each night I get the same number.
And when they will not come to be counted,
I count the holes they leave.
 
Nobody sings anymore.
 
And then last night I tiptoed up
To my daughter's room and heard her
Talking to someone, and when I opened
The door, there was no one there...
Only she on her knees, peeking into
 
Her own clasped hands


copyright; LeRoi Jones.



explorations of the text

1. what is the mood of the speaker in the opening lines? what images suggest his feeling?

     the speaker introduces the opening lines in a depressing, resigned manner. the images that suggest these mood can be seen from the line "The ground opens up and envelopes me" which signifies the speaker's lost of hope in his life.


2. what is the significance of the daughter's gesture of peeking into "her own clasped hands"?

     the significance of the daughter's gesture of peeking into her clasped hands signals the speaker's own detachment against the act of praying; hence the physical description of peeking instead of the direct act of praying itself. however this gesture as a whole could also signifies the speaker's hope for others to have their own faith still in tact; especially younger generation of his children.


3. what does the title mean? how does it explain the closing line?

     the title suggests the speaker's resignation on his life but yet, he has so many depressively repressed feelings that he had to label it as a preface. the closing lines of "Only she on her knees, peeking into [space break] Her own clasped hands" justifies the titles in a way that his notes will always be on-going so long as little flickers of faith albeit not present in him personally keep moving the volumes so as to the twentieth.


4. why does Baraka have three short lines, separated as stanzas? how do they convey the message of the poem?

     the three short lines separating the stanzas serves as the studded voice of clarity, which they convey the messages of the poem in an on-point, direct bullet of sudden emphasis in between slow-paced stanzas. they sway the readers melancholically but yet still gripping them right on focus.


5. why does Baraka begins stanzas with "Lately," "And now," and "And then"? what do these transition words accomplish?

    these transition words are believed to set the pace of its proceeding stanza; capturing and resetting readers' attention to its following verses as well as serving as a sort of timeline to his narration progress.
 

6. how does the speaker feel about his daughter? what does she represent to him?

     it can be said that the speaker holds his daughter in a careful, precious regard judging from the line of "And then last night I tiptoed up [space break] To my daughter’s room" on how he still feel the need to check up on her despite spending his day wallowing in depression. she represents the beacon of hope for life in general even though he may not believe in them personally for him. in this regard he probably sees whatever faith that he's losing being transferred and striving in his daughter, he's still standing there stuck in his unfinished woes of solemn notes.

"incident"

Sep. 27th, 2013 12:18 am
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 by Countee Cullen.



Once riding in old Baltimore,   
   Heart-filled, head-filled with glee,   
I saw a Baltimorean
   Keep looking straight at me.
 
Now I was eight and very small,
   And he was no whit bigger,
And so I smiled, but he poked out
   His tongue, and called me, “Nigger.”
 
I saw the whole of Baltimore
   From May until December;
Of all the things that happened there
   That’s all that I remember.





Countee Cullen, “Incident” from My Soul’s High Song: The Collected Writings of Countee Cullen. Copyrights held by the Amistad Research Center, Tulane University, administered by Thompson and Thompson, Brooklyn, NY.
 
Source: My Soul’s High Song: The Collected Writings of Countee Cullen (Anchor Books, 1991)


exploration of the text

1. what is the nature of interaction between the two boys?

     the nature of the interaction between the two boys reflects the influence of social stigma of racial prejudice apparent in the society of that time.


2. why does the speaker remembers nothing more than the incident, even though he stayed in Baltimore from "May until December?

     the speaker remembers the incident particularly because it was one of the most psychologically scarring experience that a child has to face; the bitter truth of racism. it was an experience that's impossible to forget especially if it happens 
for the first time to a young children.
     

the reading/writing connection

1. in a paragraph compare your experience of prejudice with the persona in the poem.

     i may not share the same racial prejudice experience as the persona; but what i do can compare is how i faced the same dilemma of being misjudged when i was child, much like the persona's age when he first experienced his. i received glares and whispers solely for being a lone child who doesn't feel like smiling and chasing her diverging peers. what i can relate to the persona is how's the feeling of being the target of collective hate; where you can't even comprehend the rational of being mistreated that way and how you could only let it slowly tumor your psyche into adulthood.

ideas for writing


1. what do its form and rhyme add to this poem?

     at a glance the poem may seemed to have an inconsistent rhyme of a, b, c, b for all its three stanzas but the hint of it is still there in every 2nd and 4th lines, which contributes to the poem in terms of keeping all the important messages still focused and in a neat line of form.


2. what is the power of language? what are the effects of the use of the term
nigger ?

    the power of language are so great that it could make or break someone's day, or life. even in the simplest form of word it could affect someone in a way that we never thought it could before. like the use of the term 'nigger', it was apparent how the word holds a particular affliction to the persona that it was the only quoted phrased he used in the poem; one which also he claimed to be all he remembered of Baltimore. it shows how deep the effect of that term is to the persona that it still scars him in his adulthood.





"hush"

Sep. 26th, 2013 02:58 am
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 a response poem to "All Things Not Considered" by Naomi Shihab Nye.



close your eyes my child,
for all of this will be gone soon.

hush little baby

go to sleep my child,
for all of this will be over tomorrow.

don't you cry

curl tight,
for i am not going anywhere.

i will close my eyes too.
i will sleep with you too.
close to you,
with you.

everything's going to be alright.


notes:

a short and subdued, lullaby-like verse in response to the exasperated and restless tone of All Things Not Considered. 
this is almost like personal solace for me after indulging in intense empathy to Nye's poem, my heart was desperately grappling for an anchor of comfort in the sea of vivid imageries even if it's only in the form of false security. the narrator for this poem might not only restricted to parental figure; it could also echoes the protective sense of anyone that wishes they could have done something for the children, to shield them from the pain even if it's only an embrace.



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by Naomi Shihab Nye.

You cannot stitch the breath
back into this boy.

A brother and sister were playing with toys
when their room exploded.

In what language
is this holy?


The Jewish boys killed in the cave
were skipping school, having an adventure.

Asel Asleh, Palestinian, age 17, believed in the field
beyond right and wrong where people came together

to talk. He kneeled to help someone else
stand up before he was shot.

If this is holy,
could we have some new religions please?


Mohammed al-Durra huddled against his father
in the street, terrified. The whole world saw him die.

An Arab father on crutches burying his 4 month girl weeps,
“I spit in the face of this ugly world.”

*

Most of us would take our children over land.
We would walk in the fields forever homeless
with our children,
huddle under cliffs, eat crumbs and berries,
to keep our children.
This is what we say from a distance
because we can say whatever we want.

*

No one was right.
Everyone was wrong.
What if they’d get together
and say that?
At a certain point
the flawed narrator wins.


People made mistakes for decades.
Everyone hurt in similar ways
at different times.
Some picked up guns because guns were given.
If they were holy it was okay to use guns.
Some picked up stones because they had them.
They had millions of them.
They might have picked up turnip roots
or olive pits.
Picking up things to throw and shoot:
at the same time people were studying history,
going to school.

*

The curl of a baby’s graceful ear.

The calm of a bucket
waiting for water.

Orchards of the old Arab men
who knew each tree.

Jewish and Arab women
standing silently together.

Generations of black.

Are people the only holy land?


notes
  • thesis; through diction, imagery and tone the narrator clearly did not veil her sentiments of anti-violence and war between the Palestinians and the Israelis
  • focused literary aspects; diction, imagery, tone
  • name drop; "Asel Asleh", "Mohammed al-Durra" - for an impactful empathy?
  • diction; straight-forward, uses of italic for emphasis purposes
  • imagery; vivid, evident
  • tone; firm, exasperated?
  • repetition of the word "holy" - hint of criticism against religions
  • destruction of humanity due to misguided beliefs and pointless disputes
  • detach tone at the end - suggesting resignation? 

exploratory draft

the poem “All Things Not Considered” by Naomi Shihab Nye did not crept on you in its messages and intention. this is evident in the straightforward introduction of the first line; "You cannot stitch the breath back into this boy"  on what this poem intended to bring you through. it's gripping, it's vivid. from there it gives you a hunch of what the poem's going to be about and there's no way you wouldn't go on.

the poet plays with the reader's empathy in the most unmerciful way with the imagery of innocent children being destructed by violence as seen in the line "A brother and sister were playing with toys when their room exploded."  all the while perfectly timing in hints of criticism against religion emphasized in italics; "In what language is this holy?" , "
If this is holy, 
could we have some new religions please?" ; cohesive and inquisitive.

another notable aspects of the poem are the citations of real life names such as "Asel Asleh" and "Mohammed al-Durra" of which both respectively had been one of the millions victims of the disputes of injustice and violence. it is believed that the usage of these name are intentional on the poet's side in eliciting deep empathy in readers.  

to speak on the poet's tone for the poem, one couldn't help but feel the almost exasperated emotion laced through the language in its diction, imagery and questions. but at the same time the firm tone against the sentiment of violence and war are prominent enough that it leaves an akin to aching feeling in readers at the end when the poet resolute in a detach tone, leaving a haunting statement and a question to ponder about.  

"Generations of black."
 
"Are people the only holy land?"




Just moments after this picture was taken, Muhammad al-Durrah was shot dead.

rimbaud: (Default)

 

poetry, for me, is where i think feminism soars the best. nothing can i best spiritually connect with other than a monologue of expression that speaks female empowerment, oppression, and thoughts.

there are a lot quintessential female poets throughout time but for this, i'm going to go with the greatest living women icon of our time; Maya Angelou.


“We delight in the beauty of the butterfly, but rarely admit the changes it has gone through to achieve that beauty.”

― Maya Angelou



angelou

Maya Angelou is an American author and poet. She has published seven autobiographies, five books of essays, and several books of poetry, and is credited with a list of plays, movies, and television shows spanning more than fifty years.

Born: April 4, 1928 (age 85), St. Louis, Missouri, United States

Spouse: Paul du Feu (m. 1973–1981), Vusumzi Make (m. 1960–1963), Enistasious Tosh Angelos (m. 1951–1954)

Education: George Washington High School, California Labor School

Children: Guy Johnson

Awards: Presidential Medal of Freedom, Spingarn Medal, More


 

Phenomenal Woman

by MAYA ANGELOU

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.

I’m not cute or built to suit a fashion model’s size   

But when I start to tell them,

They think I’m telling lies.

I say,

It’s in the reach of my arms,

The span of my hips,   

The stride of my step,   

The curl of my lips.   

I’m a woman

Phenomenally.

Phenomenal woman,   

That’s me.


I walk into a room

Just as cool as you please,   

And to a man,

The fellows stand or

Fall down on their knees.   

Then they swarm around me,

A hive of honey bees.   

I say,

It’s the fire in my eyes,   

And the flash of my teeth,   

The swing in my waist,   

And the joy in my feet.   

I’m a woman

Phenomenally.


Phenomenal woman,

That’s me.


Men themselves have wondered   

What they see in me.

They try so much

But they can’t touch

My inner mystery.

When I try to show them,   

They say they still can’t see.   

I say,

It’s in the arch of my back,   

The sun of my smile,

The ride of my breasts,

The grace of my style.

I’m a woman

Phenomenally.

Phenomenal woman,

That’s me.


Now you understand

Just why my head’s not bowed.   

I don’t shout or jump about

Or have to talk real loud.   

When you see me passing,

It ought to make you proud.

I say,

It’s in the click of my heels,   

The bend of my hair,   

the palm of my hand,   

The need for my care.   

’Cause I’m a woman

Phenomenally.

Phenomenal woman,

That’s me.

Maya Angelou, “Phenomenal Woman” from And Still I Rise. Copyright © 1978 by Maya Angelou.

     

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