a guiding angel always there
watching waiting loving living
my mom is always there to share
never selfish always giving
whenever I am down she comes, to picks me up
I am not afraid to fail knowing that she’s there
my Mom has all the energy like a little pup
a strong presence like a bear she never scares
her loving warmth it radiates
her claws come out to protect at the right times
her power and beauty is oh so great
the positivity makes me climb
without my mom I am weak shes here
to teach me, give me, strength for life
This Poem was hard for me, it did not come easy, I had to really dig in to get a product out. Instead of focusing on the iambic part, I decided that I would have to just do ten syllables to get my point across. I read it to my mom and she liked it but I’m not sure if it’s good or not given my mother’s bias.
A place to be me
“A place is only as good as the people in it.”
For six years I have warmed to feeling at home at Fenn. For the better part of these 6 years I have gotten to school and been able to walk to s101. A sometimes messy, usually cold, haven in my days at school. No matter the day I found comfort in Ms. Libby’s room. It symbolizes fun games of Latin basketball, hijinks during translating and stories told eating snack. Our class is tight knit, we know each other’s every move, we aren’t scared to call each other out, because of this we know how to have fun with each other, how to get the best out of each other. Classes range, we realize that we can have fun at class, sometimes we have too much fun. When this happens Ms. Libby is quick to change the mood. Sometimes we have super random classes but at this point the whole group has learned to embrace them. I can remember a class late last year. We had planned on getting new books that class. We walked into a classroom full of scattered pages of a Latin textbook. In other classes this would be a hinderance. Instead we embraced the sticky situation and got to work. We spent the better part of that class sorting the different pages until at long last we had 10 well sorted, in order Latin textbooks. The class was not worried or stressed, we were enjoying being able to be with each other in a safe situation. After we had finally got the papers sorted, we didn’t mind doing the Latin, we embraced that as well. In a day where I can be stressed and confused, walking into Latin makes the day a bit better. I can be a unapologetic version of myself. I’m my most confident in Latin even though I sort of suck at it, I feel safe around my friends. At school we learn to be someone. Sometimes it feels like Fenn is teaching us to be someone other than ourselves, a carbon copy of the perfect student who will go on to do good things. But in the school house 4 days a week I learn to be myself, because if I’m going to do big things I want it to be from a pure version of me.
I am from the green grass circle of Middlesex,
From always being a Concord boy at heart, to loving my new Lawrence family.
From hating un-toasted gluten free bread
From eating in a dining hall.
I am from cool summers on Lake Erie in Canada to late summer relaxing sessions on the Cape
From having to tell everyone what a migraine is and people asking, "do you think you will go to Lawrence?"
From a writhed branch
Dead for many months
Emerges a Bud
Who is this boy in the mirror
He is tired from waking up at six
He drags his body down the stairs
He eats gluten free
As he walks he warms to the day
Trying to live up to his own expectations
Striving for a better self
I bike through the woods, trying to think of ideas for English. I had spent a long weekend enjoying myself and definitely not thinking about English class or homework. This was until I remembered that I had to go outside and think about English class. I hopped onto my bike and made the leg straining climb up to the top of a hill near my house. A wind blew through my hair as I looked up. At this second I stopped and took a second to appreciate what was in front of me. An expanse of nature was there for me to take in, buds were peaking out at the world, the grass had started to show its true color expelling it’s winter brown for summer green. Even though I had biked away from campus I could still smell the newly placed mulch. Spring in it’s simplest form is mulch, new, full and pungent , when the mulch goes down the fields start to fill again, I have watched as seniors start to take stock of their experience. Now I’m the one finally understanding that I won’t be back on campus as a student soon. Nature provokes emotion, underlying pieces of my identity. I look over the domain I will soon be a student at. I take a deep breath and let it sink in and the bike ride is worth it.
Necessity turns Lions into Fox
What happens if you strip life down to the very basics. What would happen? Some say that life would be better without the distractions of everyday life, others think that the point of life is to keep gaining new objects in life. I am somewhere in the middle. I do not believe that a life deprived of the pomp and frill I live with now would make me a happier of better person. Nor do I believe that I would be better off with tons of new things everyday. What makes life worth living for me is always being grounded and humble as well as looking for new experiences and enjoying them. I don’t think that anyone I know can argue that getting new things isn’t fun and exciting, having fun is one of the best things in life. I’m not saying that getting new things is the only way to gain happiness, it isn’t, the constant getting of new things can spoil you but in small and significant doses it can make you more grateful, fun loving and ready to give back. A live lived with the people you love makes life worth it.
A sparrow pecks at
The thawing ground hoping
Searching for food
From a writhed branch
Dead for many months
Emerges a Bud
Squirrel peaks out
Sniffs the air, a new smell
Mulch, grass, food, spring
Green, color of life
Come back, it seems I forgot
The true life you bring
Summer, so lush, full
I love your sand in my feet
water on my face
Hot coals leap, I stay stotic
Caught up in my bliss
Drip, sweat trickling
Down my nose, looking right I
Notice I’m not alone
Red Robin! I call
Red Robin comes back, only on
Like a bee hive
The campus starts to buzz
Energy, is life
In fall it is unbridled
Ready to be used
As the leafs fall
The school year builds up
Constant things to do
A true perfect day
Warm sun and chill breeze
Sports and cocoa
When the rink seems
Warm, then you know it has arrived
Winter, pure winter
My breath freezes
Hans blows a icy gust at me
I return it back
I have been warmed
By a glorious smooth mug
Yummy smooth goodness
Run! Extra seconds
Like a death clock ticking
Ward hall is close
I think these turned out pretty well, it took me a while to get ideas and sometimes they didn’t fit into the haiku format. This was frustrating, I just had to keep going until something good fit.
The summer ones are my most personal haikus, I draw on nights on campus playing games and sitting around. These are some of my happiest memories so I hope that it came out on the paper.
These poems were also quite personal, I realize now that I’ve had a hard time trying to use the techniques that fitz gave us. I was just going with my own flow and forgot to add a twist.
Overall I think they are pretty good. I failed to use the techniques very well, this is disappointing to me because I wanted to follow the guidelines well. I guess I’m not a twisty kind of writer. I prefer to go the way I go, I should work on that.
It's not what you look at that matters, it's what you see.
-Henry David Thoreau
01742, Concord MA, paradise of rich history, lush forests, touched and untouched nature and a community as strong and complex as the cold New England winter. Concord is history, living, breathing and walking through this town you can feel the ephemeral and lasting memories and lives. In these very woods Henry David Thoreau tired to find himself, through his book his memories will live. Im not sure what kind of person Thoreau is yet, his writing presents a mixed bag of emotions, views and lessons. At the very least Thoreau is a hugely complex person who clearly has strong views on life. I was not too overwhelmed by the writing, I think reading Moby Dick might have helped, but it was hard to read. This being said it cannot be denied that Thoreau is a master of writing the English language, some of his sentences are complex yet understandable, unique yet relatable and all around dazzling. On a couple of sentences he goes into such detail that the reader can’t help but to be transported into his shoes and views. These sentences make for extremely quotable quotes, quotes that can give you the upper hand in any intellectual conversation. These quotes soul propose isn’t just to embarrass anyone with big words from a long dead genius but provide a valuable sight into how HDT understood the world around him.
“The mass of men live lives of quite desperation”
Thoreau clearly believes that live should be lived with purpose. He thinks that anything less than a total devotion to what your doing makes it a waste of time. When he was a teacher he made sure that his students were engaged. He goes as far to say not to read Walden if you do not truly want to. He despised students or anyone being forced to live a certain way. By desperation he means that men who are not thinking themselves, not acting for themselves will waste away in a unhappy life. He was so afraid or against living a life of desperation that he excused himself from normal life for two years. To be totally free was the definition of a good and happy life for HDT. What is wisdom? To live a happy life do you have to be wise?
“It is a characteristic of of wisdom not to do desperate things”
Thoreau dedicated a lot of his life to gathering and sharing wisdom. This definition of wisdom is quite strange though. The whole definition depends of what you define as desperation. I think Thoreau’s definition of desperation is the effect of not acting on your own or with your own personal license. Following this theory this means that Thoreau could look at the smartest person in the world. Someone who seemingly had all the trapping of extravagant wisdom. But if that person was not doing it for a reason important to him he would not be wise. In the other words the absence of desperation leads to a small amount of wisdom. I’m not sure if I agree with this. Honestly a lot of Walden so far has been contradictory to my beliefs about what he is talking about.
Walden is a book with unflinching views from a seemingly unflinching man. I think that that’s the point of the book though. As far as I can tell everything Walden believes he truly, truly believes. He wants the reader to have to think about whether they believe or not. He does not give an easy out but makes the book hard enough to read to force them to really think about how they feel about the things he’s talking about. If he was a lesser writer it wouldn’t work but, because of his undeniably good writing he makes it work.
And figuring it out
is what fitz’s class is all about
the extra effort
to push you over
can feel harder than finding a four leafed clover
when the effort is given
you are livin
with the knowledge that you tried
I really enjoyed a lot of fitz’s poems, if I’m being honest a lot still went over my head. My favorites were: 21, Too Damn Tired, 44, People seem surprised to see me and 11, the night is too perfect. These were my favorites because they got to the point in an extremely relatable way. Fitz used universal themes and put them into a personal setting, this made the themes come out even brighter and clearer. Even though these poems are short, the wording and spacing of them makes them fun and easy to read if I got the concept.
I will post my attempt at a poem of this style soon.