Adrienne Rich

Women

My three sisters are sitting
On rocks of black obsidian.
For the first time, in this light, I can see who they are.

My first sister is sewing her costume for the procession.
She is going as the Transparent lady
And all her nerves will be visible

My second sister is also sewing,
At the seam over her heart which has never healed entirely
At last, She hopes, this tightness in her chest will ease

My third sister is gazing
At a dark-red crust spreading westward far out on the sea.
Her stockings are torn but she is beautiful.

Adrienne Rich


Men

My two brothers and father are lying
On the couch of never ending depth.
For the last time at this time of night, I can vision the colors of their aura.

My first brother is talking about some form of democracy.
He is known as the Front man
And he will be discovered in this silent world.

My second brother is zoning through the TV.
Looking for some one to love not in this world,
But a name through the pixel screen.

My father is watching and listening
To every movement and word that leaves us.
He may be forgetful but he is wonderful.


Dorothy Meier
By Adrienne Rich

Free

An chick cracking its egg.
A dog breaking through the fence.
A rally in front of the county building.
A child coming from the womb.
A tooth detaching from the gum.
An employee quitting their job
A fugitive on the loose.
A teen walking out of the house for good.
A heart roaming the lonely world.


I'm free at last.

Eating Alone

I've pulled the last of the year's young onions.
The garden is bare now. The ground is cold,
brown and old. What is left of the day flames
in the maples at the corner of my
eye. I turn, a cardinal vanishes.
By the cellar door, I wash the onions,
then drink from the icy metal spigot.

Once, years back, I walked beside my father
among the windfall pears. I can't recall
our words. We may have strolled in silence. But
I still see him bend that way-left hand braced
on knee, creaky-to lift and hold to my
eye a rotten pear. In it, a hornet
spun crazily, glazed in slow, glistening juice.

It was my father I saw this morning
waving to me from the trees. I almost
called to him, until I came close enough
to see the shovel, leaning where I had
left it, in the flickering, deep green shade.

White rice steaming, almost done. Sweet green peas
fried in onions. Shrimp braised in sesame
oil and garlic. And my own loneliness.
What more could I, a young man, want.

-Li Young-Lee

1.) I feel the voice in this is sad/depressing. The speaker is lonely. He is describing an evening alone. How the memory of company makes him more depressed. The memories of once being surrounded by family is great; but the realization of "cooking for only one" hurts more.
"It was my father I saw this morning
waving to me from the trees. I almost
called to him, until I came close enough
to see the shovel, leaning where I had
left it, in the flickering, deep green shade."

Performance Poem q&a

Grinding; smashing every part
This world you though you were creating
Is crumbling like an old piece of wood
Its hard to change the mind of hundreds
When you, yourself, keeping changing time
The time on the clock is over due
The crows are starting to screech
You can not do this to us
We who gave you life in this world
You tricked us; fooled us
Your disguise was drawn out quite well
Who were we to think your machine would put us back?
Grinding; your smashing everything apart.


1) What voice is apparent within your poem? Please describe in detail.
-I feel the voice is anger. I feel the voice has self confidence and has no respect for whoever it is addressing. It is also very demanding.

2) What type of mood will you try to express when performing your poem in front of the class?
-The mood I will show is anger, determination, and have no patience.

3) What types of gestures, nonverbals, and or movement will you be incorporating into your performance?
-I will be over exaggerating everything. Every line will have a movement along with intense verbal interpretation.

4) What frightens you about this assignment? What seems exciting about this assignment?
- What frightens me is looking foolish infront of everyone..but I really don't care. And whats exciting is that I get to look foolish and go out of my comfort zone. I love doing that. I like that this assigmnet is about us expanding our poetry world. Its not about the other people around us; its just us interpreting our poems in an exciting eccentric out of the ordinary way.


5) How does performance poetry enhance the meaning of a poem? Be specific.
-I think this way of performing it shows how we interpret the poem. It definitely exposes us, which is pretty neat and exciting.

The Calculation

You went into the kitchen cupboard
Got yourself another hour
And you gave
Half of it to me
We sat there looking at the faces
Of these strangers in the pages
'Til we knew 'em mathematically

They were in our minds
Until forever
But we didn't mind
We didn't know better

So we made our own computer out of macaroni pieces
And it did our thinking while we lived our lives
It counted up our feelings
And divided them up even
And it called that calculation perfect love

Didn't even know that love was bigger
Didn't even know
That love was so, so
Hey Hey Hey

Hey this fire it's burnin'
Burnin' us up

Hey this fire it's burnin'
Burnin' us..
Up

Ohhhhh
Ohh Ohh Ohh

So we made the hard decision
And we each made an incision
Past our muscles and our bones
Saw our hearts were little stones

Pulled 'em out they weren't beating
And we weren't even bleeding
As we lay 'em on the granite counter top

We beat 'em up
Against each other

We beat 'em up
Against each other

We struck 'em hard
Against each other

We struck 'em so hard
So hard until they sparked

Hey this fire it's burnin'
Burnin' us up

Hey this fire it's burnin'
Burnin' us up

Hey this fire it's burnin'
Burnin' us
Up

Ohhhhh
Ohh Ohh Ohh
Ohhhhhhh Ohhhhhhh
Woooooooooooooooo
Woooooooooooooooo
Woooooooooooooooo
Ohh Ohh Ohhhhhhhh


-This whole song is an extended metaphor. Its talking about love obviuosly. But in the song its talking about the hard work that you must put into love. How love can't be figured out like a "math" problem, or be done by some one else, ect. It takes the work and effort from both people. Also in a way it talks about two
people realizing maybe the love isn't working, hence the hearts weren't beating. But with work and "beating of the hearts" you can make it happen.

The Stranger Woman

Lingering about
Suddenly motionless
An exaggerating wind
Swims around
The very ends
Of threads that hang off skin.
Clasping your arms
Around an invisible charm
Unnoticeably peering at the world that engulfs us.
The eye keeps his watchful stare
On a thick dream.
With lurking movements
Shifting and swooping
Making your way towards the bottomless pit
Imploring an inexcusable wish.
An eye keeping his notions clear
Summons the song be heeded
And the dream is slipping through time.
Keeping the essence of a harvesting world
Grasp the soul of the eye close
Clutch the dream closer.

Sestina

Everyone is handed a secret life
Some may be way and some maybe hard
But everyone has the chance to be bright
That is where our individual’s lives break
The broken bits that you cannot tie
But we can get closer; we surely can

For our lives our empty like a tin can
That begins to fill all thought our life
We cannot choke ourselves with a small tie
And yet our lives aren’t always free; but hard
The task in our life is to just take a break
And to breathe in the sun fumes; charming and bright

Every child has the potential to be bright
When someone says they can’t; we know they can
Though something in the process may shockingly break
That is exactly what we call life
Some expect it to never be this hard
But life can never be a smooth musical tie

Some expect life to be an even tie
Where birds are chirping and the sun is bright
People are smiling and looks are never hard
And the only answer is yes you can
They wake up every morning loving life
And their hearts can never quiver or break

Let me be the one to interrupt and break
This fantasy world with no knots or ties
People need to realize this is life
This is no TV. show; where stars are bright
So why are we here? To prove that we can
To move away the rocks; heavy and hard

So let the concrete thought in your might set hard
Let the perfectionist grasp easily break
But don’t waste your whole life sitting on the can
Find the middle of the rope where it meets and ties
Then finally your mindset can be bright
Then you will find the balance in your life

The world is hard; it’s not like tying a tie
Sometimes we will break; feel helpless and not bright
It is then that we must say we can; for this is life.

Exquisite

How can you be so blind?
Blind and exquisite are your flaws
Flaws although few, you brighten with a smile
Smile; for you are exquisite
Exquisite and yet do you flaunt this? You don't

Don't hush me
Me, who is your eye and look
Look at what we are created
Created this turbulence of what we are

Are we happy? They ask
Ask since I've been upheld
Upheld and have glided like you

You are exquisite

A name

A black and white woman stands on the edge
Feet buried, water still, coming up to the shore.
Footprints surround her, stamped by each one.
She displays a short skirt, held by a white button
A U.S Navy shirt, received from her lover.
Hair, pulled back away from her glowing face by a head band,
Rests bountifully on her neck; full, wavy, dark.
Her figure is divine, stocky legs broad chest
Decadent chin and check bones.
She stares down while her lover snaps;
His gaze upon her.
A smile; knowing she is loved
A smile filled in their world.

I am

I am a tea woman
I am a photograph woman
I am a Pisces woman
I am a giraffe woman
I am a green woman
I am a sweets woman
I am a singing woman
I am a curly woman
I am a low maintenance woman
I am a morning woman
I am a strawberry woman
I am a future woman
I am a cougar woman
I am a daisy woman
I am a Sunday woman
I am a new woman
I am a turtle woman
I am a summer woman
I am a dog woman
I am a working woman
I am a music woman
I am a words woman
I am a sign woman
I am a walking woman
I am a faith woman
I am a hand-me-down woman
I am a living woman
I am a Blackbird woman
I am a water woman
I am a big dipper woman.

Reveille

The overwhelming truth and awareness shocks your senses
You don't dare widen your view
Averse at what will be discovered
Muscles tense; beg to be stretched
You breath, as your upper body lifts to the ceiling
Exhale and sink back into your cave
Toes reach for the cold exposure
Arms extend to clutch the air
Then again compress your body like a slinky being pulled and pushed back together
The informer howls in your ear, a never ending sharp reminder
But you treat it as the if the wind just swept through the window
Immersing yourself into the dark oblivion
You feel the warmth of your body and breath
The time elapsed is unknown
But your mind, body, and soul pleads for more and laments.

Dormir

Goodnight.
Give everything I need to make the children smile
Filled with the knowledge to have them never look down.

Goodnight.
Let the happiness that will sustain me for the rest of my life rush through me like a coaster drop.
That the grasp of untangled fingers is the completeness millions seek.

Goodnight.
A nomad on the earth, time after time through the slick burning sky,
with the never ending push for whats to come.

Goodnight.
Find the passion that's hidden under the skin.
Find the hardship that's worth the work.

Goodnight.
Let the days melt upon you with hope and self-worth.
Let the world see what i see in our reflection.

Goodnight.