Sara+Nesbitt

Hey viewers! The poems below can only be described as honest, personal, and original. Each and every poem I've written has come from the heart. It talks about deep subjects that have happened to me personally, some exciting, and some upsetting. I had a lot of fun in this poetry unit, and I never knew I could be a poet. I learned from this unit that anyone can be. Most of the techniques I used were with my punctuation and set up. I really like to use one word lines, but make them very descriptive so that one word can explain the entire poem. That's mostly what my poems are made of. I also used a lot of repetitiveness in my poems. I think it gives the poem a different vibe and the reader understands more about your deeper meaning. As for my word choice I tended to use larger, more broad words so the reader can search for the larger meaning. Ever since we read a poem from e.e. cummings in class, I realized that he says things like "for life is not a paragraph" and "And death i think is no parenthesis". I love this type of writing because there are multiple deeper meanings. If there are more than one, than the reader will choose the one that relates most to them. That makes the poem they are reading more personal, like they aren't alone with whatever they are going through. I love that concept of writing. That's why in most of my poems I wrote with larger words so it's a challenge for the viewer, and they can interpret it however they want. Enjoy! - Sara

"Poetry is the silent voice that is heard everywhere inside of us" - Unknown

I was eight, young and oblivious. I didn’t understand how much a person means to you until they are gone. My grandmoher was my best friend. It was a long wait. Pacing back and forth in the hallways of the hospital, where most nights were spent. Seeing the looks of my mothers face killed me. I didn’t understand how much a person means to you until they are gone. I had gotten so used to the food, it didn't taste like cardboard anymore. All I had left were the memories of doing everything together, but they weren't enough. I wanted to make more. Then the day came, October 2nd, two hours before my birthday she left us. I didn’t understand how much a person means to you until they are gone.
 * __10-2-05__**

Ode to the broken pencil: Brand new yellow sharp pointed You take it out of the box, excited to create. Create stories, words, thoughts. The gliding strokes, and the smooth marks on the bright white paper. When you lift up your hand, the grey marks the pencil left behind, smudged against the side of your hand. Reminding you of the memories that you wrote about. Write day after day, over and over again weeks go by months it breaks. Cracks Your favorite pencil The point still on the table Worn down to its last letter You throw the point away but theres still hope. In the sharpener it goes. The cycle starts again Your favorite pencil Has written everything. Still strong forever. media type="file" key="saraspoem.mp3" width="240" height="20"
 * __Ode to the broken pencil:__**

Is that like club penguin? For easter, my mom said she'd take me to get a spray tan. Oh, you speak Japanese? That doesn't sound like an African Story! Doesn't that give you cancer? .. At least I'll smell good. I wanna play temple run. Did they win? Love you lots! WANNA BUY A BRACELET Are you wearing white pants tonight?
 * __Are you wearing pants tonight?__**

I was raised by opportunities. Driven by coaches, parents hard work. Educated by school books, but corrupted by internet. Molded by traditions, relationships, and broken dreams. I was raised by opportunities. Pushed into sports, but taught to love them. I was shaped into diversity, but brainwashed by society. I am raised by opportunities.
 * I was raised by...**

I was raised by possibilities. Driven by the scars on my knees from playing outside. Educated by class drawings, but corrupted by grades. Molded by thanksgiving dinners, football games, and death. I was raised by possibilities. hour long practices, but taught to love them. Shaped into being the friend that you don't have. but brainwashed by screaming. I am raised by possibilites.

"Trying to get you to feel the fastness of our identity" Living on edge, No one knows who you are Do you? Always running reaching for the thing you can never have. Do they care who you are? Breaking rules Lying, cheating, stealing Do you care who you are? i do.
 * Do you know who you are?**

The clouds in the sky. When you look at them you want to fly high. They make all kinds of shapes And it takes you on an escape, out of life. You twirl into another world. Take back all regrets, which makes you forget and reset. The clouds in the sky let you get back to your day in a better way. Knowing that as a matter of fact, You're loved.
 * Clouds.**

   I examined the work of Wallace Stevens. I took 5 of his poems, as well as familiarized myself with his background information and did a detail study of him for a week. He is a very interesting man. He is no longer living, which I liked because I get to learn what it was like during his time and how poets were back then. My broad interpretation of his poems would be that he talks a lot about nature and wilderness. He doesn't play around with punctuation, but uses repetitiveness. I have noticed that Wallace Stevens also doesn't rhyme much that I observed, but only when it's something important or the highlight of the poem. He seems to be very straight forward in some of his lines, like in his poem //Domination of black,// he says "I felt afraid". He does this a lot when talking about feeling. However, I think all of his poems have a deeper meaning. Like e.e. cummings, it could be more than one. During the time period of his living, (1879-1955) many things happened and changed. There were two World Wars, the Great Depression, and Women got their right to vote. Some of his poems might relate to those topics. I did notice though that most of his poems are about those main topics I mentioned earlier. I think that Wallace uses weather and nature as a guiding force. In his poem //Domination of black,// he repeated the line "Turning in the wind" about four or five times throughout the poem. I think he connects the guidance of nature with repetitiveness to get you closer into thinking the deeper meaning. I think that his poems have the same meaning throughout the whole thing. In his poem //Final Soliloquy of the Interior Paramour,// he says "Here, now we forget each other and ourselves/We feel the obscurity of an oder, a whole/ A knowledge, that which arranged the rendezvous." Your so in depth with thinking about that, that your so distracted and you lose yourself in this light. What does that really mean? death? I think he brings up the deeper reality of human existence really nicely throughout his poems. Even though some of his work did confuse me, I think he is a great writer. Some of his poems combine all of his work from other poems, like in //Gray Room//. I love the fact of this dreary atmosphere but the mind is somewhere else. I think his work is all in the mind. He guides you in the right direction, but then lets the readers mind take off in their own world.