Sunday, January 20, 2013
Thursday, January 17, 2013
Poetry Analysis
A Prisoner in a Dungeon Deep
by Anne Bronte
A prisoner in a dungeon deep
Sat musing silently;
His head was rested on his hand,
His elbow on his knee.
Turned he his thoughts to future times
Or are they backward cast?
For freedom is he pining now
Or mourning for the past?
No, he has lived so long enthralled
Alone in dungeon gloom
That he has lost regret and hope,
Has ceased to mourn his doom.
He pines not for the light of day
Nor sighs for freedom now;
Such weary thoughts have ceased at length
To rack his burning brow.
Lost in a maze of wandering thoughts
He sits unmoving there;
That posture and that look proclaim
The stupor of despair.
Yet not for ever did that mood
Of sullen calm prevail;
There was a something in his eye
That told another tale.
It did not speak of reason gone,
It was not madness quite;
It was a fitful flickering fire,
A strange uncertain light.
And sooth to say, these latter years
Strange fancies now and then
Had filled his cell with scenes of life
And forms of living men.
A mind that cannot cease to think
Why needs he cherish there?
Torpor may bring relief to pain
And madness to despair.
Such wildering scenes, such flitting shapes
As feverish dreams display:
What if those fancies still increase
And reason quite decay?
But hark, what sounds have struck his ear;
Voices of men they seem;
And two have entered now his cell;
Can this too be a dream?
'Orlando, hear our joyful news:
Revenge and liberty!
Your foes are dead, and we are come
At last to set you free.'
So spoke the elder of the two,
And in the captive's eyes
He looked for gleaming ecstasy
But only found surprise.
'My foes are dead! It must be then
That all mankind are gone.
For they were all my deadly foes
And friends I had not one.'
http://famouspoetsandpoems.com/poets/anne_bronte/poems/3796
The Second Coming by William Butler Yeats
Three Horse Operas by Robert Polito
Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?
http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/172062#poem
Meeting at Night
by Robert Browning
The grey sea and the long black land;
And the yellow half-moon large and low;
And the startled little waves that leap
In fiery ringlets from their sleep,
As I gain the cove with pushing prow,
And quench its speed i' the slushy sand.
Then a mile of warm sea-scented beach;
Three fields to cross till a farm appears;
A tap at the pane, the quick sharp scratch
And blue spurt of a lighted match,
And a voice less loud, thro' its joys and fears,
Than the two hearts beating each to each!
http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/173022
Three Horse Operas
by Robert Polito
At the end of Bing Crosby’s Riding High his horse
Will be buried in the clay of the racetrack where he fell,
As a lesson for all of us. Sad, waggish Bing,
The Mob didn’t want Broadway Bill to win, so the jockey
Pulled on the reins until the thoroughbred, straining
Over the finish line first, collapsed, heart attack.
I loved you like a guitar string breaking
Under the conviction of a clumsy hand—
Something like that . . . I suppose I must have
Been thinking of you and your complex and beautiful band,
Except the image demands I hold the guitar,
If not you, and the broken string, as
Over and over loudspeakers call riders to the starting gate.
The track bartender and a teller, a sharpshooter and the chess master
Wrestler, the petty con man and a cop, reprise their parts.
The heist gang dons clown masks, and
Sherry will betray George, and Johnny can’t love Fay,
And the fortune in the suitcase just blows away.
http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/245284
A Valediction: Forbidding Mourning
by John Donne
As virtuous men pass mildly away,
And whisper to their souls to go,
Whilst some of their sad friends do say
The breath goes now, and some say, No:
So let us melt, and make no noise,
No tear-floods, nor sigh-tempests move;
'Twere profanation of our joys
To tell the laity our love.
Moving of th' earth brings harms and fears,
Men reckon what it did, and meant;
But trepidation of the spheres,
Though greater far, is innocent.
Dull sublunary lovers' love
(Whose soul is sense) cannot admit
Absence, because it doth remove
Those things which elemented it.
But we by a love so much refined,
That our selves know not what it is,
Inter-assured of the mind,
Care less, eyes, lips, and hands to miss.
Our two souls therefore, which are one,
Though I must go, endure not yet
A breach, but an expansion,
Like gold to airy thinness beat.
If they be two, they are two so
As stiff twin compasses are two;
Thy soul, the fixed foot, makes no show
To move, but doth, if the other do.
And though it in the center sit,
Yet when the other far doth roam,
It leans and hearkens after it,
And grows erect, as that comes home.
Such wilt thou be to me, who must,
Like th' other foot, obliquely run;
Thy firmness makes my circle just,
And makes me end where I begun.
http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/173387
by Anne Bronte
A prisoner in a dungeon deep
Sat musing silently;
His head was rested on his hand,
His elbow on his knee.
Turned he his thoughts to future times
Or are they backward cast?
For freedom is he pining now
Or mourning for the past?
No, he has lived so long enthralled
Alone in dungeon gloom
That he has lost regret and hope,
Has ceased to mourn his doom.
He pines not for the light of day
Nor sighs for freedom now;
Such weary thoughts have ceased at length
To rack his burning brow.
Lost in a maze of wandering thoughts
He sits unmoving there;
That posture and that look proclaim
The stupor of despair.
Yet not for ever did that mood
Of sullen calm prevail;
There was a something in his eye
That told another tale.
It did not speak of reason gone,
It was not madness quite;
It was a fitful flickering fire,
A strange uncertain light.
And sooth to say, these latter years
Strange fancies now and then
Had filled his cell with scenes of life
And forms of living men.
A mind that cannot cease to think
Why needs he cherish there?
Torpor may bring relief to pain
And madness to despair.
Such wildering scenes, such flitting shapes
As feverish dreams display:
What if those fancies still increase
And reason quite decay?
But hark, what sounds have struck his ear;
Voices of men they seem;
And two have entered now his cell;
Can this too be a dream?
'Orlando, hear our joyful news:
Revenge and liberty!
Your foes are dead, and we are come
At last to set you free.'
So spoke the elder of the two,
And in the captive's eyes
He looked for gleaming ecstasy
But only found surprise.
'My foes are dead! It must be then
That all mankind are gone.
For they were all my deadly foes
And friends I had not one.'
http://famouspoetsandpoems.com/poets/anne_bronte/poems/3796
The Second Coming by William Butler Yeats
Three Horse Operas by Robert Polito
Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?
http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/172062#poem
Meeting at Night
by Robert Browning
The grey sea and the long black land;
And the yellow half-moon large and low;
And the startled little waves that leap
In fiery ringlets from their sleep,
As I gain the cove with pushing prow,
And quench its speed i' the slushy sand.
Then a mile of warm sea-scented beach;
Three fields to cross till a farm appears;
A tap at the pane, the quick sharp scratch
And blue spurt of a lighted match,
And a voice less loud, thro' its joys and fears,
Than the two hearts beating each to each!
http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/173022
Three Horse Operas
by Robert Polito
At the end of Bing Crosby’s Riding High his horse
Will be buried in the clay of the racetrack where he fell,
As a lesson for all of us. Sad, waggish Bing,
The Mob didn’t want Broadway Bill to win, so the jockey
Pulled on the reins until the thoroughbred, straining
Over the finish line first, collapsed, heart attack.
I loved you like a guitar string breaking
Under the conviction of a clumsy hand—
Something like that . . . I suppose I must have
Been thinking of you and your complex and beautiful band,
Except the image demands I hold the guitar,
If not you, and the broken string, as
Over and over loudspeakers call riders to the starting gate.
The track bartender and a teller, a sharpshooter and the chess master
Wrestler, the petty con man and a cop, reprise their parts.
The heist gang dons clown masks, and
Sherry will betray George, and Johnny can’t love Fay,
And the fortune in the suitcase just blows away.
http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/245284
A Valediction: Forbidding Mourning
by John Donne
As virtuous men pass mildly away,
And whisper to their souls to go,
Whilst some of their sad friends do say
The breath goes now, and some say, No:
So let us melt, and make no noise,
No tear-floods, nor sigh-tempests move;
'Twere profanation of our joys
To tell the laity our love.
Moving of th' earth brings harms and fears,
Men reckon what it did, and meant;
But trepidation of the spheres,
Though greater far, is innocent.
Dull sublunary lovers' love
(Whose soul is sense) cannot admit
Absence, because it doth remove
Those things which elemented it.
But we by a love so much refined,
That our selves know not what it is,
Inter-assured of the mind,
Care less, eyes, lips, and hands to miss.
Our two souls therefore, which are one,
Though I must go, endure not yet
A breach, but an expansion,
Like gold to airy thinness beat.
If they be two, they are two so
As stiff twin compasses are two;
Thy soul, the fixed foot, makes no show
To move, but doth, if the other do.
And though it in the center sit,
Yet when the other far doth roam,
It leans and hearkens after it,
And grows erect, as that comes home.
Such wilt thou be to me, who must,
Like th' other foot, obliquely run;
Thy firmness makes my circle just,
And makes me end where I begun.
http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/173387
Followers
How do I follow people if they don't have a followers button? I went through a few blogs and was only able to follow a handful. Are people aware that they don't have a followers section on their blog?
Tuesday, January 15, 2013
Lit Terms #1-5
1. Allegory: a tale in prose or verse in which characters, actions, or setting represents abstract ideas or moral qualities; a story that uses symbols to make a point.
Animal Farm
Animal Farm
Allegory of the Four Elements
2. Chiasmus: a reversal in the order of words so that the second half of a statement balances the first half in inverted word order
Chiasmus - Literary Terms Project
3. Denotation: plain dictionary definition
4. Elegy: a mournful, melancholy poem, especially a funeral song or lament for the dead, sometimes contains general reflections on death, often with a rural or pastoral setting.
Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard
Elegy for String Orchestra - Elliott Carter
5. Fallacy: from the Latin word "to deceive", a false or misleading notion, belief, or argument; any kind of erroneous reasoning that makes arguments unsound.
Sunday, January 13, 2013
SPRING SEMESTER PLAN 1
My goal is to teach people the importance of education and to open up doors before I graduate high school. Some people don't think an education is important because they feel they can't get one. I want people to understand its importance and I plan to show my audience the good that comes with an education. Through my blog and Facebook I plan to share positive quotes and articles I find. Through the feedback I get on my blog I will see if I am reaching out to people. Also the "Likes" I get on my Facebook statuses will determine if it was a positive quote or not. I hope to mainly reach the girls I work with at my daycare. Many don't believe in higher education and I want to show them that an education is open to anyone who wants it.
Saturday, January 12, 2013
Going to College for Free?
I read online that there are a few colleges that offer free tuition, but there is a catch. Read what they have to offer and see if these colleges are a good fit for you. There are plenty of opportunities out there, you just have to know where to look. Enjoy.
Source: http://finance.yahoo.com/news/5-colleges-you-can-go-to-for-free-185652815.html
Friday, January 11, 2013
Thursday, January 10, 2013
AP PREP POST 1: SIDDHARTHA
Five Questions I Choose
URL: http://www.prestwickhouse.com/PDF/SAMPLE/302272.pdf
- It is mentioned that Siddhartha had never loved a person as much as the Buddha. This is the first mention of Siddhartha loving anyone or anything. Why is it significant that Siddhartha feels more love for this person than either of his parents or Govinda? (Chapter 3)
- What realization does Siddhartha experience regarding the world of thought and the world of the senses? (Chapter 5)
- This chapter is entitled, The Ferryman. How is the title of the chapter and Vasudeva’s occupation symbolic to Siddhartha at this point in his journey? (Chapter 9)
- Explain the theme of the passage below: “No, there were no teachings that a person who truly sought and wanted to find could accept. But the one who had already found could approve of any teachings, every path and goal.” (Chapter 9)
- Siddhartha loved his son so much that he wanted to “keep him from suffering, pain, and disappointment.” In the process Siddhartha makes himself and his son miserable. Why wasn't this working? (Chapter 11)
In order to answer these detailed questions I'd need a copy of the book or an online version of it. I was able to find a few online versions of the book and tried to look for the answers. I know the chapter the answer could be found in, but the only problem is I don't know where in the chapter it would be located.
Online Versions of Siddhartha:
http://www.online-literature.com/hesse/siddhartha/
http://www.readcentral.com/book/Herman-Hesse/Read-Siddhartha-Online
http://manybooks.net/titles/hesseheretext01siddh10.html
http://www.readprint.com/work-841/Siddhartha-Hermann-Hesse
- The first online version I found was used on Mr. Power's SBHS Class Blog for his class to read online. http://mrpower451.blogspot.com/2009/02/online-text-of-siddhartha.html
Explanation:
This tells me that the AP Exam will require thinking beyond what we read. We will have to analyze books in deft and understand what we come across. Literary elements need to be conquered before the AP Exam because they will be used to analyze texts.
Tuesday, January 8, 2013
"What's In This For Me?"
I am in this to widen my connections. I met new people while in this AP course and I want to see how I can help them so they could help me. I know that communication is big when building a learning community and I want to do my part by speaking up. I know a lot about many different things and I feel that if I contribute my knowledge someone might be on the same boat as me and work with my ideas. Within these six months I want to work on communication skills and contribute ideas so I could meet new people.
Friday, January 4, 2013
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