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“Reborn,” written by Allison Vu, paints a picture that growing up is confusing, but it’s for a better person. In “Reborn,” there are many symbols that help paint the theme. Vu writes “My string turned golden” (5) and “The door opens to a light” (7). The string represents the speaker’s life and the gold shows that the speaker’s life is turning pure and beautiful. The door represents the stage into adulthood and the light represents the new feelings adulthood produces. In addition to symbolism, the example of imagery also helps the author get their message to the reader. Vu writes “The world is spinning” (11). The reader can imagine the twisting of the world, which appeals to their feeling. The purpose of this imagery is to show that growing…
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Because of this the sobering reality of realizing that one must stay within certain boundaries of reality or get assimilated by society. It’s problematic when one cog in a machine does not function as the rest of them do, so one simply replaces that. It is an allegory for death so that when you die you may not be missed workload wise because someone will be there to take your place, and while seeming cold and mechanical it really stresses the inherent value to live everyday to the fullest. If the eventuality is death and since one does not know if there is anything after that, one should be able to be strange within the confines of social protocol and enjoy their life before it invariably…
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At the time of this aphorism’s composition, Morrie was more optimistic than ever, despite his affliction with ALS slowly crippling him. Morrie used his condition of being close to death to formulate small philosophies of life, this aphorism was one of them. I selected this aphorism because it illustrates how although most people emit an aura of normalcy around them, they struggle with their personal internal conflicts, battling with themselves wondering why they made this or that choice or all the opportunities they missed. The hourglass demonstrates acceptance and consideration of the past, with its falling sands…
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The persona of the poem demonstrates the theme as it remains upbeat, enjoying the moment regardless of the human who contemplates both the past and future. It is apparent that the persona influences the underlying message of the poem because it is joyful and erratic behavior throughout the poem. In the first line of the poem, it says, “Fetch? Balls and sticks capture my attention/seconds at a time. Catch? I don’t think so” (LL 1-2). The dog starts out the poem displaying its excited nature by shifting thoughts from fetching balls and sticks to possibly catching them. Since the dog is so excited about the objects around him, he feels true pleasure from the present. However, the persona describes his master in the story as “haze-headed” (LL 12), because he is caught in reflection about the past and future. The Golden Retriever illustrates his master by saying, “…you’re sunk in the past, half our walk, /thinking of what you can never bring back” (LL 7-8). The persona describes master’s reflection as unnecessary because he is occupied in thought which has already transpired. Although the persona indicates no evidence of its master’s sadness in his thoughts of the past, it is clear that the human cannot be truly happy like his dog by living in the…
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It is now what cannot be. But as another bottle clatters to the floor, there is a feeling still there—not of hope, not of promise—a retching in the gut, a product of unease, a desperation to know whether the world I’d seen rise around me for so long was indeed the very one now rushing past me. So I grasp, I pray, I do all I can see it clearer, to hold it once more within my hands. I claw and, like a mist, it evades. Like a cloud it envelops me, its density suffocating, tightening in my throat, making sight impossible.…
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I represent a juxtaposition of seemingly opposite views in two poems: The Tide Rises, The Tide Falls, and A Psalm of Life. In Tide Rises we see the washing away of evidence that one has lived and passed this way, yet in Psalm of Life, he uses foot prints in the \"sands of time\" that are not washed away but remain to remind us of great men who passed this way. \"Lives of great men all remind us / we can make our lives sublime / and departing leave behind us / footprints in the sands of time....then he tells how these footprints can lift and elevate a \"forlorn\" brother who may have lost his way. It\'s true that we all are just passing through this earth life, and as the generations keep coming, we will pass into obscurity with only the remnants of our having been here being our name on a grave marker, or a family pedigree chart...UNLESS we choose to do something that leaves our mark on the world. Write your book. Paint your pictures. Compose your music. If those arent\' your talents then write your life story. Put it in a book format. Leave a legacy of your life\'s lessons. I did this very thing so I won\'t be forgotten. Mine is STRUMMING ON HEART STRINGS: THROUGH DOORS OF ONE WOMAN\'S JOURNEY. My friends, leave footprints that \"the little waves, with their soft, white hands\" cannont \"Efface the footprints in the sands...\" Even though we\'re here for a brief time, our lives matter. Before the tide\'s soft, white hands begin messing with your footprints, determine your legacy...write your life into the annals of history, even if it\'s just your family history. You may be the salvation of a grandchild or great grandchild. Read A Psalm of Life to feel the impact of what I\'m…
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In “Diving Into The Wreck”, Rich’s well crafted imagery and use of an extended metaphor helps to develop a powerful theme. In this poem, Rich suggests once people go through a traumatic experience they tend to hide behind a false memory they create in order to protect themselves. In order for people to completely heal themselves, they must be willing to go back into the memories they have suppressed. By taking this journey, they can reclaim what beauty was lost and put to rest the damage that was done, allowing for a rebirth of their soul.…
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These were the lovely bones that had grown around my absence: the connections — sometimes tenuous, sometimes made at great cost, but often magnificent — that happened after I was gone. And I began to see things in a way that let me hold the world without me in it. The events my death brought were merely the bones of a body that would become whole at some unpredictable time in the future. The price of what I came to see as this miraculous lifeless body had been my life.[1]…
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I became what I am today at the age of twelve, on a frigid overcast day in the winter of 1975. I remember the precise moment, crouching behind a crumbling mud wall, peeking into the alley near the frozen creek. That was a long time ago, but it’s wrong what they say about the past, I’ve learned, about how you can bury it. Because the past claws its way out. Looking back now, I realize I have been peeking into that deserted alley for the last twenty-six years. Ch. 1…
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Feeling as if thousands years of life experiences, flashed before my eyes a veil lifted and I saw deep into my mind then into my soul. Like a movie travelling back in time I witnessed the emotional rape of my soul by my hand as a drunk, and by the hands of others, as a child.…
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The bus was taking me home. The low hum, lulled me into my own world. I could feel the late sun on the back of my neck as I leaned against the window. The faces of those opposite me reflected the crimson afternoon. They spoke, but to me they were silent. To me they were grey, I saw them in coffee-black and egg-white. A pensive mood washed over me. And so I thought: thirty-three years ago I lost my innocence, it was the beginning of myself, and my first – and definitely my last –…
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