Jason+Davis



A poem is true if it hangs together. Information points to something else. A poem points to nothing but itself -.**E. M. Forster**

-Love; family; comfort; excitement; anticipation; anxiousness; enlightenment; joy.
 * Memory Poem#1**

All the feelings I cherished most on christmas seemed to slowly fade away.

When I found out Santa wasn't real, I was livid. When my uncle couldn't get me a christmas present i was annoyed. When the smell of a christmas tree wasn't there, I was confused. When I couldn't see mom on Christmas, I was sad. When I couldn't see my family, I was empty

-Love; family; comfort; excitement; anticipation; anxiousness; enlightenment; joy.

All of the feelings I cherished most on Christmas seemed to be gone.

I can see myself there:
 * Memory Poem#2**

Lights all around me, Smell of pine mixed with the ham fills the air. Sound waves from conversation echo through the room,An echo that never reached my ear drums.

I can see myself there:

Using my imagination,Nothing but innocence on my face. The troubles of the world don't matter,Just me and my yellow train.

I can see myself there:

Rolling around on the floor,"Next stop 15th street." As I mocked the El Train. I knew every single stop, of every single routeand here they could all be crammed into my living room.

Oh Chuck Oh Chuck Oh Chucks
 * Ode To My Chucks

Gosh do I love you Chuck. Every single morning, I get up and decide which one of you I'm going to wear that day, fight to get my foot inside you, and then take another 3 mintues to lace and tie you into a fashonable way.

Oh Chuck

Gosh do I love you Chuck. Every time someone asks: "Hey Jason you playin' footaball?" or.."Yo Jason wanna go for a run?" I'm forced to reply: "Sorry man, I'm wearing chucks" And if I do decide to play with you, I end up eventually saying: "Fuck...i messed up my Chucks". Proves that I love you though right?

Oh Chuck

Gosh do I love you Chuck. by the way, I'm sorry that I just kicked you off to the other side of my room My bad. But your cheap, your styley, your fly, your... Well I can also say that your tedious to put on and not too comfortable. But it's something I'm willing to deal with.

Oh Chuck

Gosh do I love you Chuck. **
 * Riff Poem**

It's hard being a person Wondering how you compare to everyone else They say everyone is unique but doesn't that make us all the same?

-It's hard being a person having to choose our lifestyle choose our belief fighting for the changes we can make, and accepting the ones we can't We take things for granted, thinking the come as our destiny Not realizing that ever choice we make ultimately decides our final fate.


 * Sonnet**

Held back by the hurt denial and despise Whenever I try to open my eyes. My Palate and my gums are very dry, It;s the constant inhalations of all, the impurities, doubts, regrets, and lies. i guess if i really wanted to cry Fall straight to the ground roll over and die. I do not believe I could if I tried. Religions, is it a truth or a lie? Is it my choice, to accept or deny? God expects me to get to the heavens? Will he throw me a rope, or must I fly? -I, hold no more regrets and no more lies, -Live life to the fullest until I die.


 * My Poetry

During this poetry unit, i tried my best to follow the requirements and expectations of these forms of poetry, while still expressing myself in the process. In the past I have written poetry, and it is often an outlet for stress, anxiety, heavy thinking, and other things. I do take my poetry to heart, and although some may not understand or even appreciate it, I do find it very important. In this unit it was in some ways difficult to adjust to the requirements. For example writing the "sonnet" poem was a bit tedious. This is a poem that I had written before, but i altered the vocabulary and form a bit so that it would be turned into a sonnet. Honestly I was glad I was able to do it, because in the end, i realized that I could take a general poem that I only valued for my own opinions, and turned into something that hopefully will influence others. Essentially I did enjoy writing this poetry. And will remember this next time I sit down to write a poem, and every time after that. **


 * Detailed Study**

Jason Davis

Emily Dinkinson

Emily Dickinson was born in Amherst, Massachusetts, in 1830.

By the 1860s, Dickinson lived in almost total physical isolation from the outside world, but actively maintained many correspondences and read widely. Dickinson's poetry reflects her loneliness and the speakers of her poems generally live in a state of want, but her poems are also marked by the intimate recollection of inspirational moments which are decidedly life-giving and suggest the possibility of happiness.Her work was heavily influenced by the Metaphysical poets of seventeenth-century England, as well as her reading of the Book of Revelation and her upbringing in a Puritan New England town which encouraged a Calvinist, orthodox, and conservative approach to Christianity. The first volume of her work was published posthumously in 1890 and the last in 1955. She died in Amherst in 1886.


 * Upon her death, Dickinson's family discovered 40 hand bound volumes of nearly 1800 of her poems, or "fascicles" as they are sometimes called. These booklets were made by folding and sewing five or six sheets of stationery paper and copying what seem to be final versions of poems in an order that many critics believe to be more than chronological. The handwritten poems show a variety of dash-like marks of various sizes and directions (some are even vertical). The poems were initially unbound and published according to the aesthetics of her many early editors, removing her unusual and varied dashes and replacing them with traditional punctuation. The current standard version replaces her dashes with a standard "n-dash," which is a closer typographical approximation of her writing. ||
 * Upon her death, Dickinson's family discovered 40 hand bound volumes of nearly 1800 of her poems, or "fascicles" as they are sometimes called. These booklets were made by folding and sewing five or six sheets of stationery paper and copying what seem to be final versions of poems in an order that many critics believe to be more than chronological. The handwritten poems show a variety of dash-like marks of various sizes and directions (some are even vertical). The poems were initially unbound and published according to the aesthetics of her many early editors, removing her unusual and varied dashes and replacing them with traditional punctuation. The current standard version replaces her dashes with a standard "n-dash," which is a closer typographical approximation of her writing. ||


 * EMILY DICKINSON** **POETRY**


 * **SUCCESS is counted sweetest** || ||
 * By those who ne’er succeed. || ||
 * To comprehend a nectar || ||
 * Requires sorest need. || ||
 * Not one of all the purple host || ||
 * Who took the flag to-day || ||
 * Can tell the definition, || ||
 * So clear, of victory, || ||
 * As he, defeated, dying, || ||
 * On whose forbidden ear || ||
 * The distant strains of triumph || ||
 * Break, agonized and clear. ||
 * The distant strains of triumph || ||
 * Break, agonized and clear. ||


 * **TO fight aloud is very brave,** || ||
 * But gallanter, I know, || ||
 * Who charge within the bosom, || ||
 * The cavalry of woe. || ||
 * Who win, and nations do not see, || ||
 * Who fall, and none observe, || ||
 * Whose dying eyes no country || ||
 * Regards with patriot love. || ||
 * We trust, in plumed procession, || ||
 * For such the angels go, || ||
 * Rank after rank, with even feet || ||
 * And uniforms of snow. || ||   ||
 * Rank after rank, with even feet || ||
 * And uniforms of snow. || ||   ||


 * **COME slowly, Eden!** || ||
 * Lips unused to thee, || ||
 * Bashful, sip thy jasmines, || ||
 * As the fainting bee, || ||
 * Reaching late his flower, || ||
 * Round her chamber hums, || ||
 * Counts his nectars—enters, || ||
 * And is lot in balms! || ||
 * And is lot in balms! || ||