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 Posted: Sun Jul 01, 2007 7:25 pm
Thank you! 3nodding And I agree - Mr. Frost had a natural, thoughtful feel to his poem. He seems like a wise man.
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Posted: Mon Jul 02, 2007 8:33 am
you're welcome, and you're also exactly right. he plays his outlining of poems so well, its like we're there to hear him telling them all. its like what i said about graveyards. theres always an undercurrent of an untold story hidden somewhere. *sighs*
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Posted: Mon Jul 02, 2007 3:07 pm
"I never have really understood the meanings of some of his poems, but I think Skoot has a good theory." said Kas from her seat.
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Posted: Mon Jul 02, 2007 4:26 pm
yes. *looks back to Miss Onyx* Miss Onyx, can I give you a poem i wrote today that you could possibly read and critique?
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Posted: Tue Jul 03, 2007 10:36 am
ChaosCannotBeControlled its like what i said about graveyards. theres always an undercurrent of an untold story hidden somewhere. *sighs* People are stories. So many things happen in one lifetime that one's life practically is a story. In which case, graveyards are like a library, full of stories of tragic losses, beautiful romances, and strange occurances. Plus, it's quiet there. blaugh
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Posted: Tue Jul 03, 2007 7:02 pm
yes, sometimes even stories of heroes and people corrupted by power can be found there.....i like the quite sometimes,but not always
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Posted: Thu Jul 05, 2007 12:59 pm
*sighs peacefully, looking back to Scoot*
wonderfully true!
cemetaries are places where
the long lost whispers of stories
re-tell themselves during the night.
just like a library of tales untold!
you're really smart, did you know that?
or maybe the word i'm looking for is 'inspiring'
because you're very thought inspiring.
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Posted: Fri Jul 06, 2007 6:45 am
"You are thought inspiring to Chaos. In fact, we all are in our own different ways."
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Posted: Fri Jul 06, 2007 7:18 am
Hmm, some very interesting theories. It's true that Frost's way of writing is as though we're in a very deep conversation.
You say that perhaps the Picker represents Fate, but then what do we make of his ladder?
This takes me to my initial theory of perhaps his apples being opportunities. Has anyone looked up his life yet? It tells me that his poems were rejected in America at first, so he moved to England. Perhaps the fallen apples are opportunities that he couldn't quite catch. Maybe the Cider is what represents his life, how even all the fallen opportunities go towards the whole life experience.
This also ties in with how he is "done with apple-picking now", as he's getting old.
What do you guys make of this final stanza?
"One can see what will trouble
This sleep of mine, whatever sleep it is.
Were he not gone,
The woodchuck could say whether it's like his
Long sleep, as I describe its coming on,
Or just some human sleep."
Oh, and Chaos, you can post the poem here if you want, or you can PM it to me. I'll be glad to look over it for you.
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Posted: Fri Jul 06, 2007 10:05 am
*hands Miss Onyx a piece of paper to look at* Look at Me
Look at me,
sitting down against
the off-white walls
Look at me,
black-streaked face
mascara tends to do that
Look at me,
hair is mussed
clothes are torn
Look at me,
beaten and bruised
ripped and used
Look at me,
I'm looking at you
with my dark, battered eyes
with my torn clothes,
with my abused soul
Look at me...
I hope it
hurts
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Posted: Sat Jul 07, 2007 12:07 pm
Quietly, she says, "Personally, I don't think graveyards represent anything but our ridiculous inability to accept our mortality. I don't want a concrete tomb to surround my decaying body, or a granite rock with my name on it. If I am enshrined in anything, I want it to be in my words."
She pauses a moment, looking thoughtful and a little sad. "The grave is the end, and that is all."
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Posted: Sat Jul 07, 2007 8:21 pm
*looked up t Miss Quirina's quiet words* do you really believe it's the
end? truly? i think that there has to be more then these eighty-odd years
shortly lived, going through the motions of mortality only to die so quickly.
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Posted: Sun Jul 08, 2007 7:22 am
ChaosCannotBeControlled *hands Miss Onyx a piece of paper to look at* Look at Me
Look at me,
sitting down against
the off-white walls
Look at me,
black-streaked face
mascara tends to do that
Look at me,
hair is mussed
clothes are torn
Look at me,
beaten and bruised
ripped and used
Look at me,
I'm looking at you
with my dark, battered eyes
with my torn clothes,
with my abused soul
Look at me...
I hope it
hurts
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Posted: Sun Jul 08, 2007 10:50 am
ChaosCannotBeControlled you're really smart, did you know that? or maybe the word i'm looking for is 'inspiring' because you're very thought inspiring. Actually, I have been told that people remember more when I'm around. sweatdrop But thank you for your kind words! ^^ Miss Qui, in what way do you want your body after your death?
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Posted: Sun Jul 08, 2007 1:18 pm
scooterkid34 ChaosCannotBeControlled you're really smart, did you know that? or maybe the word i'm looking for is 'inspiring' because you're very thought inspiring. Actually, I have been told that people remember more when I'm around. sweatdrop But thank you for your kind words! ^^ Miss Qui, in what way do you want your body after your death? you're welcome!!
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