The Start of it All
In my school enviroment I am known as the girl who is always happy. The girl who is always smiling or laughing. But what many do not know is that is just the surface of me. That me smiling all the time would be no different than me having a stoic, cold, emotionless look on my face. Both show and express nothing about me and tell nothing about how I am feeling. Both are a mask I have just chosen the one that is easier on the eyes.
My passion and what I love is writing songs and poems. But I realized something. I have never written anything with my own words that was about me or personal to me. I even keep the shield up when doing what I love and I have never heard anything more sad than that. So I decided for this project I was going to work on opening up more.
My passion and what I love is writing songs and poems. But I realized something. I have never written anything with my own words that was about me or personal to me. I even keep the shield up when doing what I love and I have never heard anything more sad than that. So I decided for this project I was going to work on opening up more.
My English
For my English I took the lines and words from famous poets like Walt Whitman, Maya Angelou, and Edgar Allen Poe. I also took some lines from fellow apollo class mates like Noah and Dan. I took all of these poets words and made a poem that was personal to me that hit home. I called it the "Family Portrait Poem". I used other peoples words to express something personal to me instead of using my own words to express something that is personal to others.
And here is the final piece:
Come up from the fields father, here’s a letter from me
You smell the grapes on the vines?
I see the auction block
the chains my soul
Surrounded, detached, in measureless oceans of space,
the sky so calm, so transparent after the rain, and with wondrous clouds
I stand amid the roar
I hold within my hand
Grains
yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
I understand their meaningIn a world so mean, so harsh, so cold
My Heart grows accustomed to things it will inevitably lose
My Father speaks, says "It's our submission
that makes the world go round."
But mother needs to be better
Oh stricken mother’s soul
at night fitfully sleeping, often waking,
In the midnight waking, weeping, longing with one deep longing,
she might withdraw from life and escape
Mother, Ill give you my life
It wont be the best
Listen just give me some time so I can think
They've laughed to shield their crying
This isnt my moment
then shuffled through their dreams
Cause honestly suicide sounds like a present to me
tis autumn,
where the trees, deeper green, yellower and redder,
But now from the fields comes father, come at the daughter’s call,
Father, “Forever and always.” was what you had falsely confessed.
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream,
living on the edge of death
After stitching together this poem I then took the opportunity to annotate it and make all of the symbolism and fake lines mean something to me.
And here is the final piece:
Come up from the fields father, here’s a letter from me
You smell the grapes on the vines?
I see the auction block
the chains my soul
Surrounded, detached, in measureless oceans of space,
the sky so calm, so transparent after the rain, and with wondrous clouds
I stand amid the roar
I hold within my hand
Grains
yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
I understand their meaningIn a world so mean, so harsh, so cold
My Heart grows accustomed to things it will inevitably lose
My Father speaks, says "It's our submission
that makes the world go round."
But mother needs to be better
Oh stricken mother’s soul
at night fitfully sleeping, often waking,
In the midnight waking, weeping, longing with one deep longing,
she might withdraw from life and escape
Mother, Ill give you my life
It wont be the best
Listen just give me some time so I can think
They've laughed to shield their crying
This isnt my moment
then shuffled through their dreams
Cause honestly suicide sounds like a present to me
tis autumn,
where the trees, deeper green, yellower and redder,
But now from the fields comes father, come at the daughter’s call,
Father, “Forever and always.” was what you had falsely confessed.
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream,
living on the edge of death
After stitching together this poem I then took the opportunity to annotate it and make all of the symbolism and fake lines mean something to me.