Monday's Can Be Interesting...

Just since I've been talking about poetry... I thought I'd add something about how cool my Monday was.

I had just finished reading Langston Hughes on Sunday... and when I came to ELA on Monday we got to read a Langston Hughes poem. I got so excited.

And then at the school that I tutor at on Monday's, while desperately searching for my classroom, I saw a Langston Hughes poem... actually one of the three that I posted about loving so much.

The overall lesson, if you love poetry, It'll probably try to find a way to love you back.

Forgotten (The new and improved version)

I've never written in my books.

I've never written notes in the front cover, I've never highlighted certain sentences.

And, now that I think of it, I've never actually folded any pages either.

Therefore, when you see that I've written in one of my books, you know that it's a pretty big deal. It probably means it's either an amazing line, or it just really provoked me. So if you flip to page 139 in my copy of The Wild Things by Dave Eggers, you'll see an attempted form of a bracket. (Drawing brackets is something I just can't do. An attempted bracket of mine looks like a squiggly line gone wrong.)

My bracket encloses this conversation between Max and Carol, one of the Wild Things.

Max and Carol continued down a winding path.
"Do you guys have parents?" Max said.
"What do you mean?" Carol said.
"Like a mother and a father?"
Carol gave Max a puzzled look. "Of course we do. Everyone does. I just don't talk to mine because they're nuts."

When I first read this, I just went right over it. Now don't think I didn't register it at all... I just read it as as I do almost every word in a book. I read it, I thought about it, and I moved on. I didn't spend any extra time on it, I didn't circle/highlight/draw a heart or question mark next to it (Not yet that is). But later on I realized how incredible that short passage was. How amazingly brilliant it felt to read. When I went back to reread that part, I smiled, almost laughed. It gave me a warm feeling that made me feel connected to myself and every character in the book. I still don't know why.

Maybe it was that just then, that I realized the true meaning of this book was to never run away from your anger? And to never run away from your fear? Or your home? Or maybe that if someone was driving you nuts... never to just abandon them? Like Carol did?

The reason Max runs away in the first place was because his whole family was driving him crazy. In comparison to the different ways Max and Carol handled their family conflicts, I found them both at fault. Carol chooses to notassociciate with his family, but at ease bring them into a conversation. Carol isn't embarrassed about who he came from. So maybe not that bad... but still, no speaking with your family? Crazy. Max on the other hand, is ashamed. I think that not only is Max leaving his one family, he is pretending they don't exist. He is trying to live life without them.

Not to mention that in the situation where he does have to bring his family up, he only remembers the bad times they had with each other. He sometimes even adds make believe stories to make his family sound even worse then he already thinks they are.

Just like families go through good times and bad, Max does also. As I said I above, Max definitely has traits that I am not always pleased with or proud of. He is a very angry kid. He ruins things without even realizing it through his frustration for something. And he also does dangerous things when he loses his temper. I guess we'll never really know where Max left to when he ran away to the Wild Things, but he did run away. And all because of a fight? And as much as a love Max... I fight that he started? Those actions make me angry is adisappointed way, I know that Max can do better than that. Now that I feel able to count Max as a person that I know, I have also learned his amazing traits. Traits I hope we can all gain someday... if we already haven't. Max stands out in a crowd the second he enters. I haven't seen him, but I have a feeling that his smile shines like the sun. His imagination is brilliant, and he is very clever. He is a wonderful leader and friend.

So Max, like every thing and person in the World has good and bad sides. But the bad side I'm most worried about, and just hurt by, is that he would ignore, and try to forget his family.

To forget your family, is to forget you.

And as much as I love Max, that's something I can't seem to understand. Maybe his anger... and temper... that's something I can get. It's common for everyone to be angry, even if Max can be a bit more angry than you're average kid. But knowing that Max would forget about his family, makes me remember why I look forward to the end of every fight that I have. When I make up with my family, that is the best part of all. I'm being strong, brave, and I shine when it's over. But that's something I simply don't know if Max has the strength to do.

I've Been Reading Poetry Lately #3

This is one of my favorites:

Today
By Billy Collins

If ever there were a spring day so perfect,
so uplifted by a warm intermittent breeze

that it made you want to throw
open all the windows in the house

and unlatch the door to the canary's cage,
indeed, rip the little door from its jamb,

a day when the cool brick paths
and the garden bursting with peonies

seemed so etched in sunlight
that you felt like taking

a hammer to the glass paperweight
on the living room end table,

releasing the inhabitants
from their snow-covered cottage

so they could walk out,
holding hands and squinting

into this larger dome of blue and white,
well, today is just that kind of day.

I've Been Ready Poetry Lately #2

This is one of my favorites.

Dream Variations
By Langston Hughes

To fling my arms wide
In some place of the sun,
To whirl and to dance
Till the white day is done.
Then rest at cool evening
Beneath a tall tree
While night comes on gently,
Dark like me-
That is my dream!

To fling my arms wide
In the face of the sun,
Dance! Whirl! Whirl!
'Till the quick day is done.
Rest at pale evening . . .
A tall, slim tree . . .
Night coming tenderly
Black like me.

I've Been Ready Poetry Lately #1

This is one of my favorites:

My People
By Langston Hughes

The night is beautiful,
So the faces of the people

The stars are beautiful,
So the eyes of my people

Beautiful, also, is the sun.
Beautiful, also, are the souls of my people.

Sparks and Flowers

So here's the thing.

I used to think a song and a poem had everything in common.

When you print out the lyrics for a song, the format looks exactly the same as a poem. When you say it out loud, it feels like you're reading a poem. And there's more.

But when Ms. Robbins was gone grading tests (EW) and we were left to work with our favorite song and analyze it in the same way you do with a poem, everything changed.

It was SO hard to read the song without wanting the music to go with it. I mean, I'm talking about Arcade Fire here. Arcade Fire, as in, some of the best music ever composed (or at least I think so.) Their lyrics are beautiful, but the music...

It drives me insane... that's how much I love it.

So I chose Crown of Love by Arcade Fire. I printed out the lyrics with joy, ready to show everyone how much I loved that song. Waiting to tell the story of when I walked past my living room, and there was my dad on the couch, reading a book listening to this song. And my mom is in the kitchen humming it. And how I realized that I had been listening to this song my entire life, but I never fully realized how amazing it was.

Seriously, I wish I could find a word to describe how much I love THIS SONG.

You better be crying when you finish listening to this. If you're not, I don't like you anymore.

Oh and you better listen to the whole thing... you need to hear every word to fully experience it.

What I love about this song, is how much it tells, how many stories I can think to fit into these words, but I'll never know who Arcade Fire is talking to. Or what really happened. Or why.

If you listen, Arcade Fire says, "If you still want me, please forgive me. Because the spark is not within me." Perfect example of what I was just talking about. What do we know? That they want forgiveness. They're sorry.

It doesn't seem like much, but I know that I can figure out a lot from that. Forgiveness is everything. If it weren't for forgiveness, my sister and I wouldn't have actually liked each other this morning. If it weren't for forgiveness, I wouldn't have been nice to my mom today. (But I'm never really nice to my mom...)

It's the line about the spark that I don't understand.

Another thing...

"In my heart there's flowers growing on the grave of our old love, since you gave me your straight answer."

It took me a while to do this, but I eventually made a connection to the two lines I just showed you above. This "spark" is not within whoever this person is anymore. Maybe the spark is the love. Or the "old love" in the grave. The old love that they had, that in his heart no longer exists. What does exist though, is the grave, with flowers. And I like to imagine that the flowers represent hope, that one day the spark will come back, and the grave will go away... I can go on and on.

Well I think we all need some flowers.

If they do represent hope... that would be nice wouldn't it?

Just imagine, no matter what happened to you, you would always have a beautiful batch of roses or lilacs. And just as long as you remembered they were there, and that just as long as you thought of them, there would always be hope. Always a way out of the mess.

So my opinion changed, a poem is not the same thing as a song. They each need there own special somethings to make them who they are. But there is something I discovered that they have in common...

In class, we had to think of a definition of poetry. And I said that a poem can be anything that you want it to be. It can mean anything you want it to mean. So who knows? Arcade Fire might think these flowers represent something totally different than hope. But all I know is that right now, I think that hope is what these flowers are. I may not be right, but just like a poem I can think whatever I want to think.

They say it fades if you let it, love was made to forget it. i carved
your name across my eyelids, you pray for rain i pray for blindness.
if you still want me, please forgive me, the crown of love is not upon me.
if you still want me, please forgive me, because the spark is not within me.
i snuffed it out before my mom walked in my bedroom.
the only thing that you keep changin' is your name. my love keeps
growin' still the same, just like cancer, and you won't give me a
straight answer!
if you still want me, please forgive me, the crown of love has fallen from me.
if you still want me, please forgive me, because your hands are not upon me.
i shrugged them off before my mom walked in my bedroom.
the pains of love, and they keep growin', in my heart there's flowers
growin' on the grave of our old love, since you gave me a straight
answer.
if you still want me, please forgive me, the crown of love is not upon me.
if you still want me, please forgive me, because the spark is not within me.
it's not within me.
it's not within me.
you gotta be the one. you gotta be the way. your name is the only
word, the only word that i can say!

Listen to it again would you? And read the lyrics as you do so.

<3

(P.S. I just realized that my last entry was also about hope... sorry for the repetition. )

...Are you listening to the song like I told you too? I will be asking around.

Listen to these songs by Arcade Fire too!

What I Think About Hope. And Why If You Hope Too Much, You Begin To Wish You Never Did.

Last time I checked, which was Monday in ELA, I found myself in the middle of 3 books. One, Army of One by Janet Sarbanes, was on my, desk. Two, The Wild Things by Dave Eggers was in my purple school bag, and Nine Horses by Billy Collins was in my hand.

This happens to be a lot, the time that I find myself reading more than one book. And every time, I am very surprised when I discover that I am in the middle of so many books.

And surprises, more specifically surprise endings, are exactly what I write about this week.

If you read last week's post, you'll discover my weakness when it comes to writing in books. I just can't seem to figure it out. But a few days ago, while I was reading Army of One by Janet Sarbanes, something urged me to draw a big fat exclamation point all over the page. Army of One is a book of short stories that make me laugh, cry, think, and smile. Janet has this amazing ability to dive into every single story individually. Each story comes from a different perspective, and even though there is such separation from one story to the next, no matter what you can always hear a little bit of Janet's voice in each story. It doesn't matter how different each story is, or whether or not one is sad and one is depressing, I can always hear Janet's unique voice.

As for surprises...

In Janet's second story of the book, Join Hands she takes you through each year of elementary school for Grace. It is 1973, and a new idea to be mixing blacks and whites in the same school. Each year, Grace's friendship with Nikki, an African American, a best friend, changes. In 3rd grade, they are best friends.

Sleepover and all.

And then, it's ruined. When Nikki's father, who runs an African American newspaper, tells Nikki that she can no longer be friends with Grace. At first, I didn't know what to think.

Have you ever had a best friend? Who you knew would always be there for you? No matter WHAT. It didn't matter what anyone said, you and that special someone would always be together. Just as long as you two were together, nothing else in the world had meaning. It was just the two of you fighting off everyone that came in your way.

So when I read that, according to Nikki's dad, she and Grace couldn't be friends anymore, though I was frustrated, I wasn't worried. I wasn't worried that, just by saying that, Nikki's father could keep them apart. They really had something.

I kept reading. Hoping to come across the scene I had written in my head. The one where Nikki comes to Grace's house after not speaking for some time, and decide that no one can tell them they can't be friends. Because they already are, and they always will be.

I kept reading.

And reading.

And reading.

Andreadingandreadingandreadingandreading...

But nothing was happening! Nikki had made a new friend. Who her father accepted. And the whole time, Grace is just watching from the sidelines. She's getting crushed.

So was I.

We both, Grace and I, waited around way too long. Hoping something good was going to come out of this. But everything just got worse for Grace, and better for Nikki, who didn't even seem upset from the beginning.

??

After feeling sorry for both me and Grace, I finally reached Graduation. Where the whole school sings together, "We Shall Overcome." They join hands with the person next to them, no matter what the race.

Oh! THIS is what I've been waiting for. Grace is going to turn around and see Nikki holding her hand waiting to sing for the last time with her best friend.

But this is where I went wrong, and realized that Grace was the one that just learned to accept what had happened. She knew that Nikki was out there in the audience somewhere, and there was nothing she could do that could bring her over to the seat next to her. It didn't matter anymore. All she could do was sing.

I'll admit my shock. When I turned the page, I still had some hope that there would be an epilogue where Grace and Nikki become best friends again. But all I saw was the title of the next short story.

It was funny to think that the character in this make believe story had matured and accepted reality faster than I did.

Having hope for a happy ending is always a great thing to remember to do. Though sometimes you're just not in control of the ending, no matter how much you hope.

Please read this book.

Or at least this story.

It's my new mentor text.