February 28, 2005

Poem about my river

RIO GRANDE DE LOIZA

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Julia de burgos


¡Río Grande de Loíza Alárgate en mi espíritu
y deja que mi alma se pierda en tus riachulelos,
para buscar la fuente que te robó de niño
y en un ímpetu loco te devolvió al sendero.
Enróscate en mis labios y deja que te beba,
para sentirte mío por un breve momento,
y esconderte del mundo, en ti mismo esconderte,
y oir voces de asombro en la boca del viento.
Apéate un instante del lomo de latierra,
y busca de mis ansias el íntimo secreto;
confúndete en el vuelo de mi ave fantasía,
y déjame una rosa de agua en mis ensueños.
¡Río Grande de Loíza!...Mi manantial, mi río,
desde que álzome al mundo el pétalo materno;
contigo me bajaron desde las rudas cuestas
a buscar nuevos surcos mis pálidos anhelos;
y mi niñez fué toda un poema en el río,
y un río en el poema de mis primeros sueños.
Llegó la adolescencia. Me sorprendió la vida
prendida en lo mas ancho de tu viajar eterno;
y fuí tuya mil veces, y en un bello romance
me despertaste el alma y me besaste el cuerpo.
¿A donde te llevaste las aguas que bañaron
mis formas en espiga del sol recién abierto?
¡Quien sabe en que remoto país mediterráneo
algún fauno en la playa me estará poseyendo!
¡Quien sabe en qué aguacero de qué tierra lejana
me estaré derramando para abrir zurcos nuevos;
o si acaso, cansada de morder corazones,
me estaré congelando en cristales de hielo!
¡Río Grande de Loíza! Azul. Moreno. Rojo.
Espejo azul, caido pedazo azul de cielo;
desnuda carne blanca que te vuelve negra
cada vez que la noche se te mete en lecho;
roja franja de sangre cuando baja la lluvia
a torrentes su barro te vomitan los cerros.
Río hombre, pero hombre con pureza de río,
porque das tu azul alma cuando das tu azul beso.
Muy señor río mío. Río hombre. Unico Hombre
que ha besado en mi alma al besar en mi cuerpo.
¡Río Grande de Loíza!...Río Grande. Llanto grande.
El más grande de todos nuestros llantos isleños,
si no fuera más grande el que de mí se sale
por los ojos del alma para mi esclavo pueblo.

Posted by MisheilaPellot at 03:06 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Tribute to the Brooklin Bridge

When i first read this poem i was both shaken and moved by the emotion that it carried just the words, it felt for me as if i had left my present locatipon for a second and if only by the words i was trasported to New York and seen it for myself. i mean it was just the words, you could breathe new York, you could feel it, the enviroment of the traffic lights, the noise, even the air.

Also the poem, it made me think of Puerto Rico for a second and a poem that Julia de Burgos, a Puertorican famous writer wrote about was, and the emotion that i felt as i read this and remember my own poem is that my river and the name of the poem "Rio Grande de Loiza" and "Brooklin Bridge." are one and the same river, and i know mosy of the poem talks about the bridge in itself, but its, its allusion to the water, that for me makes it the more powerful. Words like silvery splendor and when it explain its movement and it waves it really takes me back not only to New York, but also back home. I just think its wonderful to point out how words just seem to have a tendency to do that.

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Analyzing Plath

When i first read this poem i fond it to be a little confussing, but if you really do a backgroung in Sylvia Plath's biography i think you'll be able to understand it a bit more, at least it helped for me. For example in the poem she mentions that she was eleven when her father died, and Sylvia Plath's real father really died when she was young and i think he was a German profesor also, so i don't knowm that when she mentions wanting to kill him, is she talking about actually killing the memory of her father that she hasn;t been able to erase.

Also, i think the poem also reffers to her husband, you know that saying in which it states that Daughters marry theier fathers, maybe she though she did with Ted, but then durring the seven years they were together she realized that he wasn;t like her father, that he was "a vampire pretending to be you/" an impostor and she blames both her father for dying and leaving her with that void, leaving her with that notion of emptiness, even though she knows that it wasn;t his fault and blames also her husband for that emptiness, the only difference is that her husband unlike her father can do something to fill it, or at least try to fill it and refusse.

Also i also think she mentions in her poem and its a very powerfull allusion how she tried to kill herself and then she uses the words, but they stuck me back with glue, is as in a way she admits that although they institusionalized her and they tried to make her better they couldn't. its almost brings the allusion to mind of a shattered glass, and then of course what comes to mind is the Bell Jar. How its something that;s glass and it breaks and even though you tried to patch it up and fix it with glue, you know that its still not going to be as beautiful as it once was, you know that its still visibly broken. The shattered sensation that she feels in her soul, its so overwelming she knows not even glue can fix it.
Its amazing how you can even still sense the pain through her work..

Posted by MisheilaPellot at 02:44 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack

February 25, 2005

Fly into the Night

When i first read this poem in my intro to lit Studies class i thought little or nothing of it, it just seemed so surreal to me, like it was just a long babble or a train of throught that had been written down and had lttle or no meaning. When we discussed it esterday however, it became clear to me that despite the allusion that many people believe it was about, it also had other clear allusions to it.

It not only can be interpreted as how a woman can be a man's downfall (as mermaid can be a sailor.) But he also brings in an imagery of time. As if perhaps he's really dedicating this poem to his life and how he sees death closing by. let us fly away you and i could be nterpreted as his soul, finally leaving his body and flying away to heaven. Pillows and shawls always makes me remember of how in a funeral home dead bodies always rest in pollows and they are dressed up with either garmetts or shawls. White hands with bracelets on them, wite lifeless soft hands of a body.

This made me realize the significance of poetry and it shocks me how i've never thought to notice it before, poetry unlike a short stoy can be interpreted in many different ways, it also has a magic to it, an allusion of beauty, as if where a quick dream or a spell. At first i thought this poem refered to a stream of conciousness, then i saw it as a love epid, as a love poem and then finally as a call to death.

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February 18, 2005

Tempest and Words

My first impresion after reading this play was the language and it seemed intresting for me to notice this.

I myself know what it is to be able to arrive to a place and for people, friends, family and strangers to be able to know your status by what language you speak or how well you speak it. In the play, they could tell that the main character was a person from well upbringing by the language he spoke and how well he spoke it. Just like Italian seemed to be the language for the educated and Royals in Shakespeare's time, it still is similar to the steryotype from where i come from. Sure we have no kings in my home, but we have the next best thing close to it.

Back home "in my island" you can still tell a person's origin or upbringing by hearing how they talk as they are swept on shore. Just one world out of your mouth can automatically define you, can describe your whole persona, who you are and when or where your from. Whether its english the language of the elite, the language the only the rich, the torist, the sophisticated and the educated know, spanglish a mixture between both worlds, usually comon of our dear brothers the Newyork Ricas, men and women who live in newyork in the Bronx or Spanish harlem, had raised a generation of their children there and had ajusted their own language, too old to forget their own, yet too influenced to prevent from being affected by it and caught in a web of social and cultural confusion.

maybe even Spanish, the language of our educated working class who live in the island, work in it, and struggle everyday.the language that most men of the both upper and middle syuburbia know, the only language my father, his father and they own know, a language that takes us back to colonial times, to our beginings and roots, the ones Cristobal colon and Juan Ponce knew and spoke when they discovered us almost two hundred years ago. and yet and not least the common Espanol street slang known for those in the projects and the streets. The lower class, in shakespeare's time the uneduacred and the "canubals' the brute and unbreads. The ones that were done wrong by our educational sistem, by our goverment, the forgottened and banished, our cultural slaves.

The term of diversity in language is very symbolical in the Tempest and in my opinion symbolical in my island as well. Just like words can create whole worlds, they can separate and segregate people into classes and into clicks.

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February 17, 2005

Ending of Gatsby

I hated the ending of this book, yet at the same time i loved it, and that;s what i found odd most of all. I think it was unfair that Gatsby had to die for something that Tom did, yet at the sametime...it shows the cruel reality of todays world. I know now what makes this novel a classic and i think its the brilliant ending. If this would had been a tipical girl meets boy and falls in love with boy story. The ending would had turned out both predictable and sappy.

Gatsby would had ended marrying Daisy or something along the lines of that, Tom would had gotten shot and killed, they would had all moved on Gatsby mansion and everything would had been peachy ever after. This ending however shows you the cruel and twisted side of human nature....love for Daisy at least in my prespective was not good enough, if it would had been she would had never left with Tom for Europe after Gatsby died, or at least she would have had the decency to at least attend to the funeral.

Also if gatsby wouldn't had died we would had never seen the character of his father being introduced, we would had never had a chance to see what Gatsby was really feeling or thinking, its not till death that we really egt to know Gatsby. What he was feeling, what he was thinking, also i think it was intresting to see that in the funeral rearely anybody attended. Its the hypocresy again, how his house was always filled every night because of parties and food and music and yet to know that he was always alone, that he never had any real friends, that in his final moments on earth, less than a handful of people where there to console him, to give their final respect, most of them imcluding "the love of his life".

A stranger Nick, is the only person that decides to tell the story. I loved this book and at the sametime i hated it, but i hated the harsh reality that it talks about and that we all have to live with, in its essence i now believe that it is a masterpiece.

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February 07, 2005

Gatsby

If there was one thing i noticed after i started reading this book was that it was based on extreme hypocresy. It stood in my mind after reading chapter two through that the interaction between characters is not only phony, but the nature of the story is even hypocritical. in chapter two for example, you have Daisy and Tom a couple that are obviously unhappy, yet they front between Johnatan and their guest tthat everything is peachy and perfect. They make small talk durring dinner and even when the phone rings and the mistress calls, they act as if there is nothing wrong and front to cover it up with jokes and useless chater.

You see the nature of Tom and Daisy a couple that front to be a happy family with a child and anything that anybody could ever want to pocess in a lifetime, yet is oobvious to notice their unhapiness and even then they lie about it. Not only did i notice that but then on the next chapter it blows over when the character of Tom knowing full well that johnathan is daisy's cousin has the nerve to take him to new york do he can meet his mistress myrthel. A married woman that lives in the end side in which Tom and his rich click often look down upon and ignore.

Not to mention that i also noticed that the setting of the the story about the roaring 20's, in a time when i believe there was major econimic incertanty, but instead of the story foccusing on the economic struggle, the harship or the fear developed in those times, it shows you the "Gasby Mansion" where people party everynight and are always engaging in excess and luxury as if they weren't part of the world we live in. And then we see the otherside, filled with poverty and dust. I also saw an allusion that they rich people look up to this gasby character as a God almost, they idolyze him not for who he is, but for what he can do and how well he can do it, entretain his guest, bring music, the finest champange, create a spectacle every night. i found this note to be the most intresting of all

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