On the eve of the execution by Jaime An Lim

There is something about this poem that instilled in me such a feeling of patriotism and love of country. The persona's words (let us assume he was being sincere) burned with a passion that made me remember the sort of proud romantic notion that came with sacrificing your life for your country. It seemed so noble, for someone to make such large sacrifices for their country, and I wondered what that sort of love must have felt. It must have felt wonderful to know that you were sacrificing to save your country, that you were making sacrifices for a greater cause. Sadly, it seems as if today, there is no longer so great a cause that can inspire such a passion in me.

Dedication by Czeslaw Milosz

A poem in honor of those who died in the Second World War or the Holocaust, Milosz talks about how poetry becomes useless when it cannot save those who need to be saved. I got the impression that the persona in the poem was undergoing some sort of personal turmoil, the understandable dilemma of those who survived the war. Again, the poem is sad in the sense that there is nothing anymore that the persona can do. He has survived and it has become both a gift and a burden to him. I saw the extents of the effect of the war, how it not only killed people and destroyed nations but warped people's principles and their outlook on life as well.

The summer I was sixteen by Geraldine Connolly

The fun and folly of youth is beautifully described in this poem. The words conjured up a perfect, ideal image of summer in my mind, filled with sun, friends and carefree fancies. Summers in my youth have always been a time of great fun and just letting go of everything that happened over the year. It's the time to forget the world and escape into your own happy place, where nothing can touch you and everything is just as you want them to be. These beautiful summers pass so quickly and before we know it, it is over, but all the while we still remember how we felt on that beautiful summer afternoon, feeling as if we were invincible, that summer would never end, and that we would never grow up.

The sad art of making paper by Ramon Sunico

The poem tells of the process of making paper and the sadness that comes with it. It speaks of the intertwined relationship of beauty and destruction, how sometimes we need to sacrifice something in order to make something else that is even greater. There was something about the words in the poem that seemed so wistful and sad. The words just flowed like a melancholic, yet beautiful song. It filled me with a sort of sadness but also a deeper appreciation of beauty. It made me feel that sometimes, beauty is made even more beautiful if there is a certain sadness or mystery to it.

The secretary chant by Marge Piercy

The poem evoked in me such a feeling of routine. I have always had this fear of being stuck in an office someday, doing such routine jobs that even my life is reduced to an errand. It made me wonder how it would feel to live such a life, where you have become almost an object. You are lowered to the level of the things you work with--Xerox machines, rubber bands and paper clips. It is as if the secretary in the poem has become an office supply as well. I did like, however, the use of metaphors in the poem and the imagery it projects.

Love After Love by Derek Walcott

"Love After Love" struck me as a sort of self-help poem about recovering after a relationship. It talks about loving yourself after all the drama that has passed. Often, after a messy break-up, people tend to go into a spiral of self-destruction. The poem talks about the opposite of that: taking care of yourself after a time of constantly giving to someone else. In order to move on and fall in love with another, we first have to learn how to love ourselves.

Pigtail by Tadeusz Rózewicz

I can gather from the poem that it is a sort of retelling of the tragedy of the Holocaust, only this time, focusing on the women's hair. It is as if it is told in a museum, the persona speculating about perhaps, the past life of the hair he/she is staring at in a museum. The last line tells of a "pigtail with a ribbon pulled at school by naughty boys." The Holocaust is often just a tragic incident in history, to be mourned and learned from. Sometimes, however, I forget that the Holocaust is not just a statistic. The mention of the pigatil at the end reminds me that all of the people in the concentration camps were very real, with very real experiences, and very real lives that were as real as I am now, writing this paragraph.

Ballad of Birmingham by Dudley Randall

This is a poem that encapsulates one of the painful ironies of life. Reading it filled me with a sense of sadness, and I remembered all the stories I heard about people involved in bombings, accidents, fires and the like. Afterwards, there would always be stories about the last time the person saw his/her family or friends, last glances and last words. It is ironic how sometimes, the things we try to run from find us in the places we think we are safest. An interesting touch also, is the seemingly casual and storytelling tone of the poem while retelling a tragic and devastating event.

Myth by Muriel Rukeyser

The conversation between Oedipus and the Sphinx reveals that the Sphinx has, in a way, tricked Oedipus. Reading the poem, I got a sort of sexist vibe from it. The Sphinx seems to have taken offense at Oedipus' answer of "Man", and his assumption that this already included women. It was as if there was some resentment from the Sphinx at Oedipus' insensitive answer. It was clever and I found it quite funny, too.

Those Winter Sundays by Robert Hayden

I think the part I liked best in the poem was the last few lines, which reflected a sort of regret that I was all too familiar with. The poem made me sad. Very often we take things for granted and it is only at the end that we realize how much those things made a difference. It seems like those typical relationships between a father and a son, and their not being able to be open with each other. Although at first, it doesn't seem like a very good tribute, towards the end, we see how much the persona valued his father, elevating his ordinary chores to "offices".

My Papa's Waltz by Theodore Roethke

I read this poem and I wondered, "Is this about child abuse?"

If it were, I found it a bit strange for the writer to be comparing it to a dance, what more a waltz. Either he was glamorizing his father too much that he couldn't--or wouldn't?--see his flaws, or he was being sarcastic. I'm more inclined towards the latter. Reading the poem, I couldn't really tell anymore which side the persona was on. The language was neutral, and he described everything as he would a regular waltz, minus the violence.

But then, it could also NOT be about child abuse, but something else. As I said...The poem is quite enigmatic.

The Unknown Citizen by W. H. Auden

As was discussed in class, I agree that it seems as if the poem is talking about some fictitious "model citizen". He exactly that--a model citizen, a figment of the imagination created for society to emulate. At the end of the day, however, he is still very unreal. It is our flaws that make us human, and a person like this would have been like a robot, an alien or a Stepford wife. This poem seemed so conspiracy theory type, the kind they make into movies, starring Tom Cruise as a man living in a fictitious society.....

Jabberwocky by Lewis Carroll

There was a point in the poem where I was wondering if Lewis Carroll just made up most of the words. Whatever he did, it worked. The tone seemed like the storytelling type, and it just engages you. This is another one of those poems that are just really entertaining. It's light, sounds great and seems like an enjoyable poem. It paints a colorful image in my mind of a very fantastic world.

Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening by Robert Frost

While Robert Frost is best known (at least to me) as the man who wrote "The Road Not Taken", I like this poem best. It conjures to my mind a very vivid mental image of the snowy woods, with the horseman cloaked in the night. I have no idea why, but the poem gave me a sort of ominous feeling, as if the night was filled with mysterious occurrences and devious strangers. I especially love the last four lines of the poem,

"The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep."

It sounds great and has a kind of lulling quality to it that makes you feel as if you are being lured to the woods as well.

in just- by e.e. cummings

There is something so distinctly whimsical about this poem that captivated me. Never mind that it didn't really make much sense the first time I read it, or that it doesn't follow any of the usual conventions I encounter in poems. It reminded me of Disney's Alice in Wonderland, with its playful, carefree tone. It is such a spring poem, full of happiness and the vibrancy of youth. It makes me feel like closing my eyes and letting myself go. There are things you encounter that make you feel like nothing can go wrong, and this poem is one of those.

The Red Wheelbarrow by William Carlos Williams

The first time I encountered this poem was in senior year in high school for our poetry lesson. I didn't immediately get what the poem was trying to say, but there was something about it that I liked, and I couldn't quite forget it. The poem seemed so simple but full of potential for interpretation as well. As I was reading (and rereading..and rereading) it, I also wondered why so much depended upon the red wheelbarrow, why it was glazed with rain water and why the white chickens were there. The only way I could answer that question was with a cornucopia of situations and stories about the red wheelbarrow and its great destiny.

We Real Cool by Gwendolyn Brooks

First off, I think the poem reads wonderfully. It sounds great, and the effects of the alliteration and rhyme in it add to the smooth quality of the poem.
The poem seems to be glamorizing the lives of the seven delinquent pool players of the Golden Shovel. I got the impression that the pool players were the ones speaking in the poem, telling the readers about their lives and ultimately, their mistakes. There seemed to be no hint of remorse or regret in the poem though. Reading this, I recalled the quote, "Live fast, die young, leave a good-looking corpse." And live fast they did.

Love Sonnet 116 by William Shakespeare

This is one of the few works of Shakespeare in which I do not need to have a study guide beside me to half understand it. I liked the poem not only for its message but also for its language. There is something about it that feels so archaic, that reading it makes me remember the olden times when people used to express their love for each other in such eloquent terms. It was not merely "I will always be here for you through thick or thin" but rather, "Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds." I feel it is a very beautiful poem, professing love we can no longer express in our everyday language.

Tonight I Can Write by Pablo Neruda

This is easily one of my favorite poems of all time. Call me sentimental but there's just something about this poem that makes me want to sigh and marvel at the beauty of a "shattered" or a "starry" sky. Reading the poem is like hearing a lullaby. There is a sense of calm about this poem, something so romantic without being cheesy or fake. There is a sadness and a longing that I am so unfamiliar with, and this feeling, despite being unfamiliar, can still make me feel so alive.

Cargoes by John Masefield

The first time I read this poem, I didn't really get it. It sounded good but.... So, I looked up some words (okay, maybe a lot) to get the gist of the whole thing and one thing I can say about it is that it can really call images to mind (of course when you know the meaning of the words). I don't have a hard time imagining the galleon "dipping into the Tropics" with its cargo of diamonds and topazes.

The different stanzas also speak of different eras and empires: the Assyrians, the Spanish and the English. It shows how objects of value differed in those times. The first two stanzas involve cargoes of great luxury while the last one is much more humble. It seems to be illustrating the things that defined a particular empire or time. As time passes, the things that people value become less and less grandiose and more utilitarian, practical and useful. What that says about our society now, I'm not really sure. Humble, yes. Rich? Yes too, I guess. But happy?