Death is a horrible realization when you’re a child, I woke up every morning loving the sun, a flowing breeze with the scent of flowers enriching the soul, and the stairs at night were massive, glowing brightness of twinkling beauty. Although the beauty outside that surrounded our family of twelve was a far cry from the abuse we suffered day in and day out. I know what it is like to be hungry, having one pair of shoes a year, not being able to talk to your parents out of fear you will be beaten again, and for no reason. Somehow through all this unpleasant abuse, I still found beauty in my surroundings, the color of a simple bush, flowers, and the clouds were fascinating to me as well. The day I found out people die, I remember that day as if …show more content…
Driving along both boys told me they had something to tell me, I never expected to hear what they experienced five years earlier. I had said okay what is it I need to know? Christian is quit slender, dark skin, beautiful brown eyes, and always happy, he is Dutch Indonesian and Puerto Rican, the Asian side standout in his features. Speaking first he told me, we are both ten years old now, she said we can tell you when we are both ten. Immediately I inquired who told you. The other grandson Isaac, is Dutch Indonesian and Mexican, the Hispanic side stand out more in his features, black short hair brown eyes, thick eyebrows and dark skin, a little bit on the hefty side, he added, the girl that came to our window. I kept asking questions, turning around to go back home I had to know what was going on! When the children were younger I often kept them overnight, this is the story they told me. The girl that came to the window appeared on the roof of my two story home late one night. Both boys were only five years old at the time spending the night with me, this bedroom they were sleeping in faces the street, it was late I was already in bed. They said she was very young and beautiful with blonde hair, she asked them not to be afraid, to come to the window and they did, continuing to inform them there wasn’t much time, they were after her and she had to talk fast there wasn’t much time, she needed them to keep a secret. She had blonde hair and a hole in her neck where blood was coming out dripping down her hello kitty shirt, she told them that she has been watching them for a long time and she sees how they treat their Grandmother and that makes her happy, she is proud of them and wish she could be their guardian angel, asking them not to tell their Grandma and Grandpa until they turn ten years old, because she doesn’t want
There is probably no one, among people, who has not considered death as a subject to think about or the events, people, and spirits that they would face after death. Also, since we were little kids we were asking our parents what death is and what is going to happen after we die. People have always linked death with fear, darkness, depression, and other negative feelings but not with Emily Dickinson, who was a reclusive poet from Massachusetts who was obsessed with death and dying in her tons of writings. She writes “Because I could not stop for Death” and in this particular poem she delivers a really different idea of death and the life after death. In the purpose of doing that, the speaker encounters death which was personalized to be in a form of gentleman suitor who comes to pick her up with his horse-drawn carriage for a unique death date that will last forever. In fact, she seems completely at ease with the gentleman. Additionally, their journey at the beginning seems pretty peaceful; as they pass through the town, she sees normal events such as children who are playing, fields of grain, and a sunset. After this, dusk takes place and the speakers gets chilly because she was not ready for this journey and she did not wear clothes that would make her feel warm. Consequently, readers get the idea that death is not a choice, so when it comes, that is it. Emily Dickinson, in her poem “Because I could not stop for Death,” uses personification, imagery, and style to deliver her positive and peaceful idea of death and life after death.
Death has feelings as much as any human, imagining, getting bored, distracted, and especially wondering (350, 243, 1, 375 respectively). Odd, one could say for an eternal metaphysical being. But then again, not that queer once having considered how Death spends his time. He is there at the dying of every light, that moment that the soul departs its physical shell, and sees the beauty or horror of that moment. Where to a human witnessing a death first hand (even on a much more detached level than our narrator) can easily be a life changing event, Death is forced to witness these passings for nearly every moment of his eternal life. Emotional overload or philosophical catalyst? Death gains his unique perspective on life through his many experiences with the slowly closing eyelids and muttered last words. Yet in this...
Death is a controversial and sensitive subject. When discussing death, several questions come to mind about what happens in our afterlife, such as: where do you go and what do you see? Emily Dickinson is a poet who explores her curiosity of death and the afterlife through her creative writing ability. She displays different views on death by writing two contrasting poems: one of a softer side and another of a more ridged and scary side. When looking at dissimilar observations of death it can be seen how private and special it is; it is also understood that death is inevitable so coping with it can be taken in different ways. Emily Dickinson’s poems “Because I Could Not Stop for Death” and “I Heard A Fly Buzz When I Died” show both parallel and opposing views on death.
Death is a topic that is often not discussed in the western culture. When the topic of death
“When I got down out of the tree I crept along down the river-bank a piece, and found two bodies laying in the edge of the water, and tugged at them till I got ashore; then I covered up their faces, and got away as quick as I could. I cried a little when I was covering up Buck’s face, for he was mighty good to me.” (Twain, 148) Death. A topic that every single human, animal, and plant has to face with in some point of their life or at the end. But, when you really think about this subject what do you assume people associate with. Fear. Hell or Heaven. The end of a crossroad. Whatever you associate with people have brought their own interpretation of the concept. Two interesting interpretations of death comes from Mark Twain’s book, “The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn” and Sylvia Plath’s poem “I am Vertical”.
Death isn’t always the enemy. Life that is continued has the ability to change things that weren’t possible before. Premature death is a misfortune but it shows us we are not immortal. I grew up in the small town of Monroe, Louisiana and the oldest of six children. We were always together and enjoyed each others company, especially when it came to sports and competition. Our favorite sports to play were basketball and football, our parents even bought us our own basketball goal. When our parents let us have time to play outside, we would play with neighbors and friends until the street lights came on, which was a signal for our curfew. Some of the best memories I have is with my siblings. I can remember when I was fourteen, my mother finally allowed me to babysit on date night. I was so happy about babysitting because I saw it as real authority over my siblings and I could tell them what to do without a fight. I wanted to be in control, but also wanted to be the cool babysitter, so I decided to have a handstand contest. The rules were whoever can hold the longest handstand could have chocolate cookies before bed, my siblings were excited. Each one of us took turns doing a hand stand but falling quicker than we got up. Then it was my brother’s Said turn, he was the most athletic of the boys and the one I always wanted to beat in a race. He held his hand stand for twenty seconds but when he came down he his feet crashed into my mother’s marble and glass coffee table, shattering the glass. He was unharmed but the table was ruined. When my parents came home, they didn’t notice the table was missing until my younger sister blurted out we broke the table, we were grounded for weeks.
Emily Dickinson once said, “Dying is a wild night and a new road.” Some people welcome death with open arms while others cower in fear when confronted in the arms of death. Through the use of ambiguity, metaphors, personification and paradoxes Emily Dickinson still gives readers a sense of vagueness on how she feels about dying. Emily Dickinson inventively expresses the nature of death in the poems, “I felt a Funeral, in my Brain (280)”, “I Heard a fly Buzz—When I Died—(465)“ and “Because I could not stop for Death—(712)”.
There once was a man named Franswah, and he had a wife named Keisha. They both lived in Keithville, Atlanta. They had a little girl named Jasmine, she was twelve years of age and she attended Ghettoville Jr. High School in the seventh grade. Keisha never did like doing anything, so her husband Franswah decided to go out and have an affair with a lady named Shay. Franswah and Shay worked at a law firm together. Shay was his assistant, she always helped him with things and they always went to lunch together. So some nights he never came home or either he came in late. Keisha was never the type of person to just argue, she mainly just questioned him to see what the response would be and she left it alone until the next morning. So one night when he came in he had a funny odor and Keisha asked him what was up with the smell, he told her that he had been working out and got sweaty. Their daughter Jasmine had very high blood pressure, so most of the time she didn’t go to school because of her condition and she stayed ill. Keisha had a younger sister named Ashley, she is the rowdy type that doesn’t care and will tell anybody anything. Keisha was telling her sister about Franswah coming in late, having a odor on him and don’t want to be questioned. So one day when Ashley was over there and he walked in she confronted him and told him if she find out that’s its that he’s cheating on her she was gone handle it. So he got mad and started hollering at Keisha for telling her sister about what was going on in their relationship. Then that’s when Ashley came back and told him that she can tell her anything she want to tell her because that’s her sister. So few minutes later the phone rings and its was Shay. Keisha answers the phone and it was another lady’s voice, and she asked to speak to Franswah. So she asked her who is calling and she told her that it was Franswah’s baby mother. Everyone is in shock, so Ashley gets on the phone and started getting rowdy. Ashley was asking her different questions like how old is the baby, where she live, and where did Franswah and her meet.
One thing that we often hear is that “death is just a part of life.” So often in our day and age do we hear people utter these words. However, death is far more significant and impactful than some would allege. True death is not merely a time when we cease to exist; it is an entombment, a mindset in which we are dead to this world. Throughout our lives, it is true that we can all be dead in one way or another, but it does not have to be that way. When we have our eyes opened to what death actually is, it is far easier to grasp what the true meaning of life is, and to embrace it. Often, we will come across individuals who are enveloped in death and others who are immersed in true life. The shadow of death and entombment lies upon some, encompassing
I have felt the pain of the loss of a Sister; have felt the pain of the death of my Mother, and felt the death of my Father. I know how it feels. I experienced it. It is painful, looking at those old kind folks who bore you; who took care of you; went through all kinds of sacrifices and pains just to look after you for years and years, until one day the child stood on one’s own two feet, and then … there they are, the parents, helpless and lifeless in front of you.
The two poems, “Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night”, by Dylan Thomas and, “Because I Could Not Wait for Death”, by Emily Dickinson, we find two distinct treatments on the same theme, death. Although they both represent death, they also represent it as something other than death. Death brings about a variety of different feelings, because no two people feel the same way or believe the same thing. The fact that our faith is unknown makes the notion of death a common topic, as writers can make sense of their own feelings and emotions and in the process hope to make readers make sense of theirs too. Both Dickinson and Thomas are two well known and revered poets for their eloquent capture of these emotions. The poems both explore death and the
Predominantly the poem offers a sense of comfort and wisdom, against the fear and pain associated with death. Bryant shows readers not to agonize over dying, in fact, he writes, "When thoughts of the last bitter hour come like a blight over thy spirit, and sad images of the stern agony, and shroud, and pall, and breathless darkness, and the narrow house, make thee to shudder, and grow sick at heart -- go forth under the open sky, and list to Nature 's teachings." With this it eludes each person face their own death, without fright, to feel isolated and alone in death but to find peace in knowing that every person before had died and all those after will join in death (Krupat and Levine
Please Do It That embarrassment always fresh even that day of the truth was years ago. I brought a cute birthday cake to my school and I was about hurry to use restroom so I left it on my best friend Kim’s desk and I ran as fast as I could to restroom. When I came back, Kim came to me and whispered in tear to my ear, “you are the only one remembering my birthday, you are the greatest friend I ever have” after some cheery words of appreciation, I explained that it was for my boyfriends birthday, I did not remember her birthday either. ”
The thing no one tells you about dying is being so aware you burn to tell people everything you can. Unfortunately, your whole body is paralyzed so that you are no longer in control. Every sound you want to make, every limb you want to move, you can’t. How did it happen? Well I’ll tell you, but I’m going to warn you, it’s not pretty.
Then the phone rang and Dad answered it. It was hard to tell what the conversation was about, it did not last long and Dad didn’t say much. When he hung up he was quiet. Then Mom asked, “Who was that, honey?” Blunt and to the point he said, “Grandma,” (his mom) “Grandpa got sick last night.” Suddenly I was not hungry any more. “What’s that mean?” Mom asked, taking the words right out of my mouth. Dad did not really know. All Grandma said was that Grandpa got up in the night, went to the bathroom, and then yelled for help before collapsing. She called 911 and an ambulance came and got him. From the hospital in Spirit Lake he was life-flighted to Sioux Falls.