Wednesday, 23 November 2016

Poem Analysis - "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?", William Shakespeare



"Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?" (Sonnet 18), William Shakespeare

“Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?

Thou art more lovely and more temperate.

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,

And summer’s lease hath all too short a date.

Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,

And often is his gold complexion dimmed;

And every fair from fair sometime declines,

By chance, or nature’s changing course, untrimmed;

But thy eternal summer shall not fade,

Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st,

Nor shall death brag thou wand’rest in his shade,

When in eternal lines to Time thou grow’st.

     So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,

     So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.”

        “Shall I Compare Thee” by William Shakespeare is a romantic, passionate poem, in which the one spoken of in the poem is compared to a summer’s day. The poem has a peaceful, joyous mood, and although it is short and precise, the poem is written in an unhurried, leisurely way, as if the writer has eternity to simply speak of the beauty of his muse.


The first line in the poem asks the question,Shall I compare thee to a summer's day”, which is then answered in the following lines.
In line two, it is stated that that one being compared to is more mild and pleasant than the summer, as well as beautiful.
The last four lines, it is written that the beauty of the one being compared to will never die, as long as the poem still exists and it is still being read.

The poem interests me because of the strange, beautiful metaphors the writer uses to compare things that represent summer to the person the poem was written for. 
It is clear in the poem the writer loves the one the poem is written for by the way metaphors that are used to symbolize their beauty.

Poem Analysis - "Hall of Mirrors", Ted Berrigan





 Hall Of Mirrors”, Ted Berrigan


      “We miss something now


as we think about it


Let’s see: eat, sleep & dream, read


A good book, by Robert Stone


Be alone


Knew of it first

in New York City. Couldn’t find it

in Ann Arbor, though

I like it here

Had to go back to New York

Found it on the Upper West Side

there


I can’t live with you

But you live

here in my heart

You keep me alive and alert

aware of something missing

going on


I woke up today just in time

to introduce a poet

then to hear him read his rhymes

so unlike mine           & not bad

as I’d thought another time


no breakfast, so no feeling fine.


Then I couldn’t find the party, afterwards

then I did

then I talked with you.


Now it’s back

& a good thing for us

It’s letting us be wise, that’s why

it’s being left up in the air

You can see it, there

as you look, in your eyes


Now it’s yours & now it’s yours & mine.

We’ll have another look, another time.”

                                                                                             

      “Hall of Mirrors” by Ted Berrigan, is started off by telling the reader about a man that lives in the Upper West Side of New York City. The man explains to us that he is currently just realizing how much he is missing his previous hometown, Ann Arbour.
He reflects upon his life experiences. In Ann Arbour, he was living happily. However, he felt he was missing something. He just did not know what exactly he was missing, but he knew it was something big and important.


"Knew of it first



in New York City. Couldn’t find it



in Ann Arbor, though"

 
 
He then comprehends his time spent in New York City. There he felt inspired where he spent quality time with other elite poets like himself. He felt alive, and that he finally belonged to something wonderful. New York City was a wonderful place to be, but nevertheless, he truly missed his hometown. Unfortunately, there in Ann Arbour his poetry work will not reach its finest potential, which is contrary to in New York City where it will.

He chooses to travel back to New York City and wastes no time in doing so. The morning following his arrival, he manages to go to a poetry exhibition in which he is part of. He introduces one of the poets that is part of the poetry posse. As the poet reads his marvelous, rhyming poem, the man notices just how much each person’s poems differentiate from everyone else’s, especially the current poet’s poem, and his own.
Later on, there is a celebration party following the poetry show. He searches for the poet, eventually finds him, and then talks to him. Concluding this quality chat, he realizes that here and now, is definitely the place in which he belongs.

Now as he thinks back, he accepts the fact that he needs to be with these poets, and they need him in their lives too. He perceives that he was sensible to make the decision of moving to New York City, although he misses Ann Arbour quite a bit.

"Hall of Mirrors" was found on the "Poetry in Voice" website.

Comparative Analysis - "The Road Not Taken", Robert Frost "You Left & I Moved On" Nikita Gill



“The Road Not Taken”, Robert Frost

“Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.”



“You Left & I Moved On”, Nikita Gill

“What else
was I going to do
with all this fire
you left inside me?

I had two choices-
find someone
to share it with,
Or to burn alive.

In both “The Road Not Taken” by Robert Frost and “You Left & I Moved On”, Nikita Gill the topic of the impact of our decisions on our future and happiness is addressed.
Frost makes independent decisions not influenced by the norms of society. Some of his choices are ones the lesser of the population would have chosen, but that is what makes him unique. In Gill’s poem she has the option of mourning over her breakup and blaming herself for being who she is not. In reality, she should not have to change who she is for the relationship to work. Her partner should love her unconditionally for who she is. 
Frost writes with simple language and a nonchalant tone. In contrast of Frost’s poem, feelings of anger and sadness are felt in Gill’s poem. Another contrasting part of each poem is in Robert Frost’s “The Road Not Taken”, the poet is met with two choices to make. The choice many before him have chosen, or to make his own decision. In “You Left & I Moved On”, the poet is forced to make a decision based on the situation of the poet.
There are also very different poetic devices used with each poem. In “The Road Not Taken”, there is alliteration and personification used. There is also, obviously, the giant metaphor the entire poem is about, as the two roads represent choices.
In “You Left & I Moved On”, the main poetic devices used are metaphors, as the poet refers to her love to her past partner as “fire” and her mourning and sadness as being “burned alive”
Though there are many differences between both poems, they each represent how important everyday decisions are.

Poem Analysis - "The World Is Too Much With Us", William Wordsworth



"The World Is Too Much With Us", William Wordsworth

“The world is too much with us; late and soon,

Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;—

Little we see in Nature that is ours;

We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!

This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon;

The winds that will be howling at all hours,

And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers;

For this, for everything, we are out of tune;

It moves us not. Great God! I’d rather be

A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn;

So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,

Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;

Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;

Or hear old Triton blow his wreathèd horn.”


       “The World Is Too Much With Us” by William Wordsworth, is about the writer attempting to send the message out to everyone that many people are no longer in touch with nature, do not spend enough time appreciating the beauty in it, as well as not caring at all when the world is being damaged.

    What first caught my interest in this poem was the interesting, meaningful title. Although short, the unique way the title of the poem is worded is very powerful and intriguing.

In the poem, there is a harsh, brutally honest tone, as if the writer is frustrated with most of the world for not understanding him and changing their ways to enjoy nature and to stop harming it. The way the poet worded the poem also leads you to believe that he is not only angry, but saddened by the harm being done to our world.

The poem connects very similarly to what is being taught in Socials currently, and to the unit that was recently completed. In Socials, we were told of the effects the Industrial Revolution caused on the world and environment. We were also told in Socials of many recent events in place that will inflict grave damage the earth, such as an unnecessary dam that may soon be built  that would flood  83 kilometres of land. The harms being done both in the past and present all connect to the poem.

Analysis - "The Odyssey" Excerpt, Homer



The Odyssey Excerpt (Book 9 - The Cyclops), Homer

"Next we beached in the land of the Cyclopes. We made a pleasant meal of their wild goat, then went over to the mainland. The first thing we saw was a big cave overlooking the beach. Inside were milking pens for goats and big cheeses aging on racks.
My men were for making off with the cheeses and the lambs that we found in the cave, but I wanted to see what manner of being made this his lair.
The Cyclops -- Polyphemus was his name -- came home that afternoon. He was as tall and rugged as an alp. One huge eye glared out of the center of his forehead.
He didn't see us at first. The first thing he did was drag a huge boulder into the mouth of the cave. Twenty teams of horses couldn't have budged it. Then he milked his ewes, it was when he stoked his fire for the meal that he saw us.
'Who are you?' asked a voice like thunder.
'We are Greeks, blown off course on our way home from Troy,' I explained. 'We assume you'll extend hospitality or suffer the wrath of Zeus, protector of guests.'
'Zeus? We Cyclopes are stronger than Zeus. I'll show you hospitality.'
With that he snatched up two of my men and ate them raw, picking them apart and poking them in his mouth, bones and guts and all.
We cried aloud to Zeus, for all the good it did our comrades. The Cyclops washed them down with great slurps of milk, smacked his lips in satisfaction and went to sleep. My hand was on my sword, eager to stab some vital spot. But I realized that only he could unstopper the mouth of the cave.
We passed a miserable night and then watched the Cyclops make breakfast of two more of our companions. When he went out to pasture his flock, he pulled the boulder closed behind him.
It was up to me to make a plan. I found a tree trunk that the Cyclops intended for a walking stick. We cut off a six-foot section, skinned it, put a sharp point on one end and hardened it in the fire.When the Cyclops came home and made his usual meal, I spoke to him. 'Cyclops, you might as well take some of our liquor to savor with your barbarous feast.'
I'd brought along a skin of wine that we'd been given as a gift. It was so strong that we usually diluted it in water twenty to one. The Cyclops tossed it back and then demanded more.
'I like you, Greek,' he said. What's your name?'
'My name is Nobody,' I told him.
The wine knocked him out, I put my plan into effect. Heating the end of the pole until it was glowing red, we ran it toward the Cyclops like a battering ram, aiming it for his eye and driving it deep. The thing sizzled like hot metal dropped in water while I twisted it like an auger.
Polyphemus came awake with a roar, tore the spike from his eye and began groping for us in his blindness. His screams of frustration and rage brought the neighboring Cyclopes to the mouth of the cave.
'What is it, brother?' they called inside. 'Is someone harming you?'
'It's Nobody!' bellowed Polyphemus.
'Then for the love of Poseidon pipe down in there!'
They went away, and Polyphemus heaved the boulder aside and spent the night by the open door, hoping we'd be stupid enough to try to sneak past him. Getting past him was the problem alright, but by morning I'd worked out a solution.
Tying goats together with ropes of willow, I hid a man under each group of three. When it was time to let them out to pasture, the Cyclops ran his hands over their backs but did not notice the men underneath. Myself, I clutched to the underbelly of the biggest ram.
'Why aren't you leading the flock as usual?' asked Polyphemus, detaining this beast at the door and stroking its fleece. 'I wish you could talk, so you could point out those Greeks.'
He let the ram go, and we beat it down to the ship as fast as our legs would carry us."

I read “The Odyssey” somewhat recently and found this Epic-form written novel to be quite interesting. The novel is packed with adventure and allows the reader to use their imagination when envisioning protagonist Odysseus’ adventures and journey from returning home to Ithaca. In this excerpt, I found it quite amusing how the Greeks are usually accustomed to hospitality, gifts, and kindness from their temporary hosts. The Cyclops on the other hand feel in no way obligated to make Odysseus and his crew feel welcome. Odysseus, the famous king of Ithaca, generally gets whatever he wants by name dropping himself. The irony in this passage is how Odysseus is able to fool the Cyclops and escape his comrades and himself out of the cave with his disguise. Instead of telling that his name is Odysseus, by going by “nobody,” Polyphemus’ neighbours believe Polyphemus is going insane. Another important theme demonstrated is how sometimes one cannot act out in the spur of the moment. If Odysseus’ crew had killed Polyphemus, there would be no way possible to remove the huge boulder blocking the cave exit. Odysseus using his intellect to devise a well thought out plan of hiding under the cattle to be released.

Poem Analysis - "The Shark", Edwin John Pratt



The Shark”, Edwin John Pratt


“He seemed to know the harbour,
So leisurely he swam;
His fin,
Like a piece of sheet-iron,
Three-cornered,
And with knife-edge,
Stirred not a bubble
As it moved
With its base-line on the water.

His body was tubular
And tapered
And smoke-blue,
And as he passed the wharf
He turned,
And snapped at a flat-fish
That was dead and floating.
And I saw the flash of a white throat,
And a double row of white teeth,
And eyes of metallic grey,
Hard and narrow and slit.

Then out of the harbour,
With that three-cornered fin
Shearing without a bubble the water
Lithely,
Leisurely,
He swam—
That strange fish,
Tubular, tapered, smoke-blue,
Part vulture, part wolf,
Part neither—for his blood was cold.”

           “The Shark”, by Edwin John Pratt, initially interested me from its strange, straightforward title. The poem, however, is simply about a shark circling a harbor, but the poet uses many poetic devices to paint the picture of the shark in the reader’s head.

    Imagery is used frequently to help portray the lethal elegance of a shark, and other poetic devices such as similes and metaphors are used as well to compare the colours and destructiveness of the shark to weapons and other items.

    His fin,
Like a piece of sheet-iron,
Three-cornered,
And with knife-edge,
Stirred not a bubble
As it moved

Alliteration is also used commonly in the poem as well to draw attention to the description of the sharks’ movements and the way the shark’s body is shaped.

   The way that the shark is described in the poem almost portrays the shark as a deadly killing machine from the vocabulary chosen in the poem. The meaning of the poem is simply to show the violence and deadliness of the shark being illustrated within the poem as it circles the harbor described in the poem.

   The Poem “The Shark” was found from the “Theme and Image” list.

Poem Analysis - "The Lady of Shalott", Alfred Lord Tennyson



“The Lady of Shalott”, Alfred, Lord Tennyson


Part I

“On either side the river lie

Long fields of barley and of rye,

That clothe the wold and meet the sky;

And thro' the field the road runs by

       To many-tower'd Camelot;

The yellow-leaved waterlily

The green-sheathed daffodilly

Tremble in the water chilly

       Round about Shalott.


Willows whiten, aspens shiver.

The sunbeam showers break and quiver

In the stream that runneth ever

By the island in the river

       Flowing down to Camelot.

Four gray walls, and four gray towers

Overlook a space of flowers,

And the silent isle imbowers

       The Lady of Shalott.


Underneath the bearded barley,

The reaper, reaping late and early,

Hears her ever chanting cheerly,

Like an angel, singing clearly,

       O'er the stream of Camelot.

Piling the sheaves in furrows airy,

Beneath the moon, the reaper weary

Listening whispers, ' 'Tis the fairy,

       Lady of Shalott.'


The little isle is all inrail'd

With a rose-fence, and overtrail'd

With roses: by the marge unhail'd

The shallop flitteth silken sail'd,

       Skimming down to Camelot.

A pearl garland winds her head:

She leaneth on a velvet bed,

Full royally apparelled,

       The Lady of Shalott.


Part II

No time hath she to sport and play:

A charmed web she weaves alway.

A curse is on her, if she stay

Her weaving, either night or day,

       To look down to Camelot.

She knows not what the curse may be;

Therefore she weaveth steadily,

Therefore no other care hath she,

       The Lady of Shalott.


She lives with little joy or fear.

Over the water, running near,

The sheepbell tinkles in her ear.

Before her hangs a mirror clear,

       Reflecting tower'd Camelot.

And as the mazy web she whirls,

She sees the surly village churls,

And the red cloaks of market girls

       Pass onward from Shalott.


Sometimes a troop of damsels glad,

An abbot on an ambling pad,

Sometimes a curly shepherd lad,

Or long-hair'd page in crimson clad,

       Goes by to tower'd Camelot:

And sometimes thro' the mirror blue

The knights come riding two and two:

She hath no loyal knight and true,

       The Lady of Shalott.


But in her web she still delights

To weave the mirror's magic sights,

For often thro' the silent nights

A funeral, with plumes and lights

       And music, came from Camelot:

Or when the moon was overhead

Came two young lovers lately wed;

'I am half sick of shadows,' said

       The Lady of Shalott.


Part III

A bow-shot from her bower-eaves,

He rode between the barley-sheaves,

The sun came dazzling thro' the leaves,

And flam'd upon the brazen greaves

       Of bold Sir Lancelot.

A red-cross knight for ever kneel'd

To a lady in his shield,

That sparkled on the yellow field,

       Beside remote Shalott.


The gemmy bridle glitter'd free,

Like to some branch of stars we see

Hung in the golden Galaxy.

The bridle bells rang merrily

       As he rode down from Camelot:

And from his blazon'd baldric slung

A mighty silver bugle hung,

And as he rode his armour rung,

       Beside remote Shalott.


All in the blue unclouded weather

Thick-jewell'd shone the saddle-leather,

The helmet and the helmet-feather

Burn'd like one burning flame together,

       As he rode down from Camelot.

As often thro' the purple night,

Below the starry clusters bright,

Some bearded meteor, trailing light,

       Moves over green Shalott.


His broad clear brow in sunlight glow'd;

On burnish'd hooves his war-horse trode;

From underneath his helmet flow'd

His coal-black curls as on he rode,

       As he rode down from Camelot.

From the bank and from the river

He flash'd into the crystal mirror,

'Tirra lirra, tirra lirra:'

       Sang Sir Lancelot.


She left the web, she left the loom

She made three paces thro' the room

She saw the water-flower bloom,

She saw the helmet and the plume,

       She look'd down to Camelot.

Out flew the web and floated wide;

The mirror crack'd from side to side;

'The curse is come upon me,' cried

       The Lady of Shalott.


Part IV

In the stormy east-wind straining,

The pale yellow woods were waning,

The broad stream in his banks complaining,

Heavily the low sky raining

       Over tower'd Camelot;

Outside the isle a shallow boat

Beneath a willow lay afloat,

Below the carven stern she wrote,

       The Lady of Shalott.


A cloudwhite crown of pearl she dight,

All raimented in snowy white

That loosely flew (her zone in sight

Clasp'd with one blinding diamond bright)

       Her wide eyes fix'd on Camelot,

Though the squally east-wind keenly

Blew, with folded arms serenely

By the water stood the queenly

       Lady of Shalott.


With a steady stony glance—

Like some bold seer in a trance,

Beholding all his own mischance,

Mute, with a glassy countenance—

       She look'd down to Camelot.

It was the closing of the day:

She loos'd the chain, and down she lay;

The broad stream bore her far away,

       The Lady of Shalott.


As when to sailors while they roam,

By creeks and outfalls far from home,

Rising and dropping with the foam,

From dying swans wild warblings come,

       Blown shoreward; so to Camelot

Still as the boathead wound along

The willowy hills and fields among,

They heard her chanting her deathsong,

       The Lady of Shalott.


A longdrawn carol, mournful, holy,

She chanted loudly, chanted lowly,

Till her eyes were darken'd wholly,

And her smooth face sharpen'd slowly,

       Turn'd to tower'd Camelot:

For ere she reach'd upon the tide

The first house by the water-side,

Singing in her song she died,

       The Lady of Shalott.


Under tower and balcony,

By garden wall and gallery,

A pale, pale corpse she floated by,

Deadcold, between the houses high,

       Dead into tower'd Camelot.

Knight and burgher, lord and dame,

To the planked wharfage came:

Below the stern they read her name,

       The Lady of Shalott.


They cross'd themselves, their stars they blest,

Knight, minstrel, abbot, squire, and guest.

There lay a parchment on her breast,

That puzzled more than all the rest,

       The wellfed wits at Camelot.

'The web was woven curiously,

The charm is broken utterly,

Draw near and fear not,—this is I,

       The Lady of Shalott.'”



          “The Lady of Shalott”, by Alfred Lord Tennyson, begins by the description of a river and various species of flowers such as waterlily and daffodil.  The vegetation surrounds an island called Shalott.
The Lady of Shalott is being imprisoned within the gray towers in Shalott. It is explained that there is a curse upon the Lady of Shalott. The curse would happen if she were to look out the window behind her, but it is unknown to her what the curse is.

    However, above her loom hangs a mirror on her wall, and the Lady of Shalott sees parts of Camelot, the city which lies outside her window. In the mirror, the Lady of Shalott catches glimpses of the citizens of Camelot as well. One day she sees a knight riding by Shalott in her mirror, and upon seeing his reflection she abandons her weaving and attempts to cross the river in a boat. The Lady of Shalott dies while crossing the river and singing a song, and the poem ends with the citizens rushing out of their houses to find her dead body.

    The message of “The Lady of Shalott” is that curiosity will frequently get the best of everyone. The Lady of Shalott had to weave for most of her life, with no knowledge of the outside world. To make things worse for her, the Lady of Shalott was able to see parts of the world in her mirror which would tempt her to look outside every day. She was also forced to live her life with no connections anyone. The Lady of Shalott was probably craving a relationship, as many would had they been unable to speak to anyone their whole lives. When the prince was seen in her mirror, she finally reacted to her impulses and left the tower to society.

    Something that interested me about the poem she had so much self-control in the tower for basically her whole life, but in the end of the poem, she perishes anyways. I also found the imagery in the poem memorable, especially as her boat was rowed down the river of Camelot.

The poem "The Lady of Shamlott" was found from the list, "Theme and Image".