Personal Narrative in Poetry When coming to the first class of Form in Poetry, I admit I was a bit nervous, for I knew very little about poets, poetry, and poems, but I also was very ignorant because I did not believe there was a lot within a poem. Oh how naive I was. The further we pushed through the year I was enlightened with new types of ways to format a poem, different meters and beats, to an array of vocabulary words that I could not begin to define. I learned that not only if poetry and abstract art form, but it is a very particular and intellectual form of art that has the ability to morph into an infinite number of possibilities. With the genius poems of A.E. Stallings and Stanley Kunitz, I was able to expand my horizons away from …show more content…
The main thing I found in poetry that I truly love is the abstract concepts the writer can make a poem exhibit. When I right, I tend to write from experience, or using vocabulary, testimony which I believe creates a more personal connection to your poetry and you. I found that I was able to write philosophically and what I felt in order to make my readers and me think more in depthly about the topic. With my new found knowledge in poetry I was able to watch my poems evolve from a mediocre freeform, to a well thought out piece of poetry. My poetry later in the semester would utilized linguistics, rhyme scheme, and a flow pattern that would please the eye and give particular lines emphasis. Furthermore, the goals and plans I would have for poetry in my life are unknown as of now. I enjoy writing poetry, I get comfort from it, but in my future I hope to concentrate on a more narrative form of writing, like books, short stories, and screenplays. However, what I’ve learned in this class will benefit my writing greatly outside of the poetry field, the techniques that help capture us in our writing, as well as those that captivate our
Everything for a year had been leading up to this point and here I was in the middle of the happiest place on earth in tears because my friends had abandoned me in the middle of Disney on the senior trip.
In today’s modern view, poetry has become more than just paragraphs that rhyme at the end of each sentence. If the reader has an open mind and the ability to read in between the lines, they discover more than they have bargained for. Some poems might have stories of suffering or abuse, while others contain happy times and great joy. Regardless of what the poems contains, all poems display an expression. That very moment when the writer begins his mental journey with that pen and paper is where all feelings are let out. As poetry is continues to be written, the reader begins to see patterns within each poem. On the other hand, poems have nothing at all in common with one another. A good example of this is in two poems by a famous writer by the name of Langston Hughes. A well-known writer that still gets credit today for pomes like “ Theme for English B” and “Let American be American Again.”
From the Ancient Greek word poieo, meaning “I create”, poetry is, what is said to be, the most linguistic art form known to mankind over the years. Poetry, as the dictionary states, is a literary work in which special intensity is given to the expression of feelings and ideas by the use of distinctive style and rhyme. Poetry has made its mark on modern European languages in its most relative element-rhyme. Although rhyme did not make its way into classic Greek or Latin poetry until the late Middle Ages, along with many other literary devices, such as alliteration, and assonance has made poetry a sound of music to readers. Some say poetry is merely words on a page, but to others, it is an art form, an illustration of someone’s life, someone’s feelings, and an emotion given away through words in hopes that someone else might find serenity.
Robert Frost once said “A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness.” “It’s when an emotion has found its thought and the thought finds words. Poetry is a vital language of the heart. Poems rely on the writer’s deep and intensive feelings toward a subject. Poems can help a person find their inner feelings that one could not express directly to someone, but only could explain with pen and paper. Poetry draws on the senses and the senses give deep access to the poet’s inside feelings. It allows a person to be free and clear, that’s why poems are so interesting and fun to write.
I received a voice mail today from Sean McKnight stating he has a meeting setup with Ken Barber and some other individuals on the executive board of Illinois Joining Forces (IJF). I felt it was my duty to inform the group about some important facts that Mr. McKnight is very good at hiding. I met Mr. McKnight during my time at NIU. I just served my time as the NIU Veterans Club president and decided it was time to let someone else take the helm. Matthew Galloway the current Veterans Club president introduced the club to Sean McKnight at a veterans club meeting. Sean came in and presented himself as a seasoned veteran’s advocate who has many connections throughout the state of Illinois and Washington D.C. He promoted his organization that he was starting Warriors Guarding Warriors as a revolutionary concept that has not been thought of as for yet throughout the veteran community. Finally, he offered his services to any veterans having trouble with VA benefits or the medical process. At the time we did not know that he was not officially certified to help veterans, and nor did he actually know the proper process or paper work needed to help our fellow veterans. Sean offered to be the Veterans Clubs mentor. The club held a vote and
First time out of the wire and on patrol but not with first platoon, First Sergeant moved me to second platoon just the day before. The night insertion that we conducted that night went without a hitch. The soldiers that were in my truck took turns throughout the night behind the weapons system which was an M-240B. At zero eight in the morning of the next day patrols started around the bazaar by the dismounted troops. I was coupled with the PL* and conducted familiarization patrols so that I could get eyes on the sector from the map that was issued to me the night we left. Starting off at the far limits of the sector we went to position E (east) and was instructed on what the sectors were as was the activities that had been conducted the previous
On February 21, 2016, I, Deputy John Arnold, went to 11747 West 105th Street South to assist another deputy in reference to a fight in progress.
Brick walls are always going to show up in our lives to prove to us how badly we want something. One brick wall that I have faced in my life has to do with when I was younger and played softball. I was the newest member of the team and I had never played the sport before. I was always interested in watching softball, and finally decided to play on a recreational team with my close friend. All of the other girls had played for a few years already, and had grasped the skill. I on the other hand, was just learning all of the skills and wasn’t the best. Each practice, I would really try hard to play at the same skill level as all of the other girls, but it was hard to instantly be good at something new. Eventually, the games started to begin and
One life-changing event that has impacted my life was the decision to join my high school lacrosse team going into my freshman year. I didn't know too many people going into my first year of high school besides my close childhood friends. I had been playing soccer for most of my life and had been attending the high school soccer camp to prepare for tryouts. My friend called me a week before school started and asked me if I wanted to join him in at one of his practices. That call changed my life forever.
Feeling the waves crash against the edge of my little Butterfly and lapping over the sides onto me, I flew through the water. I held the ropes and rudder securely in my hands as I aimed straight for the sailboat ahead of me and, beyond the other boat, the buoy. All was going well when suddenly a wind gust came in, and I knowingly kept the sails sheeted in with the intent of getting back into the race. Despite struggling to keep control over the boat, I felt the sail tip and plummet into the water below. I fell over backwards into the refreshing water as I watched my competitors sail on. This happened again and again and I am pretty sure I set a new record for the most capsizes in a Camp Michigania teen regatta. Ever. Period.
It's six o'clock. From down the hall, I hear my mother's footsteps approaching. The door opens.
When I was about four or five years old I had to get my tonsils taken out which are located in the back of your mouth. A few weeks had passed and my mom had realized that my neck was a little swollen. My mom then made an appointment with the doctor and when he looked at my throat he said it was time. I then found out after they finished taking out my tonsils from my mouth they had said I should’ve woke up 10 minutes before , but ( I didn't ). When I finally woke up from what I call a long sleep all I remember was me walking into a room and fainting on the floor in front of a little girl. When they rushed me back to the emergency room they said I started to gush out blood from my mouth.
All my life ,I’ve always wanted to be someone in life who can actually make a difference to this world in a positive way. Ever since I was a little girl I pushed myself to always best I can be just . I lived in a town outside Los Angeles, California , it was called Van Nuys,California.The elementary school (Kittridge Elementary) I had went to was in a low income area, mainly spanish community had lived in the area I was living in at the time .I had a lot of friends (mainly mexicans) I focused a lot on being on time for school , staying on task in class, and finishing my homework. At such a young age I had felt such ambition and was doing very good for myself. At the age of 10 was when reality start to really hit me , even though I was very young I started to see things differently.
“Why don’t you use your locker? You’re going to have back problems before you even graduate”. These are words that are repeated to me daily, almost like clockwork. I carry my twenty-pound backpack, full of papers upon papers from my AP classes. The middle pouch of my backpack houses my book in which I get lost to distract me from my unrelenting stress. The top pouch holds several erasers, foreshadowing the mistakes I will make - and extra lead, to combat and mend these mistakes. Thick, wordy textbooks full of knowledge that has yet to become engraved in my brain, dig the straps of my backpack into my shoulders. This feeling, ironically enough, gives me relief - my potential and future success reside in my folders and on the pages of my notebooks.
During my freshman year of college, I had met one of my best friends, who go by name Jill. (She lives in New Jersey and while I live in Pennsylvania) I found it to be strange that sometimes, it feels like we have grown up with one another but in reality we have only one another for four years and I couldn’t be more thankful. I can remember when we met at school as if it was yesterday.