Poetry

Every time I read poetry, it gets me in the mood to write some of my own. Like Mrs. Watson said, the most poetry I write is when I am depressed, but I try to break out of that every now and then. I like to write poetry about myself. Just to keep myself in check and to make sure that my creative flow doesn't get rusty. I often pick out my flaws and play with them in a poem, it keeps me humble and reminds me of who I am. Intimacy is a big thing for me as well. I often put it into a poem that no one else can understand, except for me. My favorite poet is Hafiz. He is humorous, but very serious in his poetry. His poems are light, with a deep meaning. I do not claim any religion because I am in the weird funky stage of trying to decide what I believe. But that's a story for a different time. Here is one of his poems called I Have Learned So Much. It's beautiful, and it makes me so happy.

I

Have

Learned

So much from God

That I can no longer

Call

Myself

A Christian, a Hindu, a Muslim,

a Buddhist, a Jew.

The Truth has shared so much of Itself

With me

That I can no longer call myself

A man, a woman, an angel,

Or even a pure

Soul.

Love has

Befriended Hafiz so completely

It has turned to ash

And freed

Me

Of every concept and image my mind has ever known.

Women Get It

     I always talk to my best friend Jamie when I am having one of those weird "girl days" and I am crying for no reason, or when I am just really pissed and I don't know why. She understands, even when I can't put what I am feeling into words. I can just look at her, and she knows. If I go to my boyfriend for these types of days, he freaks out, and thinks he did something wrong. He just doesn't get it. There is a connection between women of all types. I might be a bit of a feminist, but I think the ladies will know what I'm trying to say.
     In the story, A Jury of Her Peers, Minnie has killed her husband. Of course, the men investigating the case, are just trying to prove that Minnie is a savage killer. Not thinking of why she might have done such a thing. During the investigation, two women are there collecting Minnie's valuable things to take to her. While doing this, they see things in Minnie's house that aren't right. Like things being half done. They know that leaving a kitchen table half clean isn't right. Mrs. Hale has known Minnie before and after her marriage. She knows what a lively person Minnie can be, but she hasn't seen that side of Minnie since  she became married to John.
     Mrs. Hale knew that Minnie loved to sing, and when she and Mrs. Peters find the mangled bird wrapped in cloth and tucked away in a little box, they could feel the pain Minnie suffered through until she snapped. They decide to keep their findings a secret to help protect Minnie. They know that their husbands would not understand. Mrs.Peters even kept it from her sheriff husband, after she claimed that the law is the law.
    So, women get each other. Our outrageous emotions, bad hair days, and emotional abuse and trauma. This story just proves that we have each other's backs.

Works Cited

Glaspell, Susan. A Jury of Her Peers. Literature: An Introduction to Reading and Writing. Ed. Edgar V. Roberts. 9th ed. New York: Pearson Longman, 2009.193.

Drunken Body, Sober Mind

I think alcohol only intensifies the truth. Especially with mean drunks. In the Black Cat, I think the narrator was really a crazy mess about to go on full tilt without alcohol, and I think that the cat sensed that. Since the narrator was a drunk most of the time, he felt that the cat was a crazy demon, when possibly the cat was only scared of him and trying to defend itself. The narrator took it to a whole new level by torturing the cat. Of course the poor lil' cat was like, "Bump this," and hated the narrator. With the narrator already being crazy, his alcohol intake brought it to life and made it real. So, he takes an axe to the cat. Really? Unnecessary. I don't think he meant to kill his wife, but putting her body in his cellar walls isn't exactly saying "I'm sorry." I'm just trying to say that he might have been able to deal with his out-of-whack mind if he didn't drink.

Not my curse.

When I feel threatened, or become full of anger, I can unleash a wrath that no one would want to get caught in. That's why I can't understand why Mitchell in The Curse didn't react to help the girl. I can understand that he isn't a Kung-Fu master, and that is out numbered by scary motorcyclists on cocaine, but he could have at least broken bottles or a bar stool over one of the motorcyclist's heads. Of course, the rest of the group would have jumped him, but other people in the bar would be more likely to jump into a bar fight than to stop a rape. Which would have diffused shortly after the cops arrived. I would become so full of adrenaline if I knew I was about to witness a rape. I cannot even stand the thought of a man taking advantage of a woman in such a way. I would have gone on full attack mode, and would have tried my hardest to kill them. I can't imagine just standing there and watching that type of tragedy go down. I couldn't deal with that for the rest of my life.