Thankgiving Poem

A Holiday Rhyme and Rhythm

I have never been one for poetry
But in this great time of solemnity
I suppose a rhyme and rhythm would suffice
So here I toss the cards and roll the dice
In hopes of a good line or two
Before I close and bid ado

The greatness of the universe unfurled
I marvel at the beauty of the world
The feast in which I do partake,
Jollity to the depths of my soul doth take

The sound of laughter, the sound of friends
The blind course of life, what's beyond the bend
Yet each day brings smiles
Even if for but a while

Let us not question or doubt
Simply sing praises and shout
For one day forget the woes and fears
When you are around loved one and dears

Remember the good
As ever one should
And on this Thanksgiving,
Thank Him for living

I am not one to smile and laugh
Despite all the goodness my life doth hath
But from now on I pledge,
Amongst the darkness I'll wedge
A bit of sunshine to my living
And remember it each Thanksgiving

-Mandee Sorensen

(I looked back at my posts and realized how negative I have become! Here's my attempt to brighten my paradigm!)

On Reading Poems to a Senior Class At South High by D.C. Berry

I spent a few minutes researching D.C. Berry to see if insights into his life would somehow grant me a few insights into this poem. Berry had a good personality and frankly lived a good life. However, he did fight in Vietnam. It seemed to me he struggled with the concept of conforming. This poem reminded me of my own views of high school. We go to high school and conform ourselves into model students. We are the "frozen fish in a package," just waiting to to be turned into something. We let the words and ideas of our superiors drown us. As the little "school of fish," we never stick out and never fend for ourselves. Sometimes I feel as though I go to school only to have another coat of paint caked on to conceal my individuality. It's been such a long time since I've really been allowed to think for myself. I hope I'm not another fish in the aquarium: on display behind a glass, limiting my view to the 4 walls around me.

At the same time, I wonder if we even have a problem being conformed. I mean, the fish get fed right? They have security and clean water. Perhaps they don't get to see the rest of the ocean, but if they never know, does it even matter? I think we like people limiting our potential. We may not admit to it, but if there is a limit on our potential, then we don't have to figure it out or our own. It's easier that way. We become what others except us to be.

Then there are the people like me. I realize I'm being brain washed by the system, but what am I doing about it? Writing silly blog posts about how pathetic it is that society is the master of my destiny. Or like Berry, write poems about being crafted into schools of fish. I guess we are either naive or afraid.

Poetry Response #9

This week's poem of choice is "Acquainted with the Night," by Robert Frost. I really enjoyed our conversation about it in class and decided to do it for the week. Unfortunately, I was in a really bad mood then, so this dark poem fit perfectly. Now I'm in an excellent mood, so my take on this might be a bit more positive than usual.
This poem is discussing seeing the darkest hours of life. Frost's son committed suicide, which has to be one of the darkest corners the earth has to offer. He has certainly been "Acquainted with the Night," but haven't we all? Not all corners are as dark and deep, but all consume and all destroy just that little part of us that felt alive. In this poem, it really sounds like Frost is ready to go down the same dark lane as his son. He says, "I have passed by the watchman on his beat/And dropped me eyes, unwilling to explain." This of course, the watchman being the people in life who notice you are sad, but will never understand. Nevertheless, although I think it was written about suicide, I will not take it like that. The best part about the night is even though you're surrounded by darkness, if you look up there is a glimmer of light. Just a small shimmer of hope. Yes, I have been aquainted with the night. I have seen dark days, months, and even years. But I have also been acquainted with the warm summer day. Sometimes winter lasts longer than it should, but the spring does come. When we're in the dark, it's so hard to realize that light is even there. We get so consumed and our sense of time is skewed. It's hard to understand that darkness is temporary.

"Human Condition" by Tom Gunn

One thing I've been contemplating lately is my own insignificance. Perhaps it's partially due to the daunting uncertainties of my future (namely college.) I have been questioning my own individuality. My mind cannot possibly fathom the wonders of the universe, let alone the wonders of the earth. Lately I have been so engrossed by the thought that everyone has thoughts! It seems so basic, yet I cannot wrap my mind around the concept that while my mind is spinning, tossing around ideas, marveling, pondering, wondering, analyzing, remembering, the kid right next to me in AP Stats is doing the same thing! Right now on this earth, there are 6 billion stories being written, 18 billion being cherished or remembered, and perhaps an infinite more to be created. The line in this poem that haunted me the most was in the 2nd stanza, "I am condemned to be/ an individual." Among the 6,697,254,041 people on the earth (according to Google) I have associated with an estimated 1,000 people on a personal level. If those stats are true, then only .00000014931% of the world has ever been aware of my existence! I am .00000000015% of the population of the earth. And yet, many other .00000000015% of the population have actually altered the lives of the other 99.9999999999999999999999999999% of the world! I suppose the greatest lesson I learned is that 'insignificant' is not a permanent label. And perhaps one may be insignificant statistically speaking (being only .00000000015% of the population) but to the .00000014931% of the world you do associate with, you're anything but insignificant. "I must/find out the limitation/of mind and universe."Perhaps this is the "Human Condition;" among my own insignificance lies a unique individual with infinite potential; with the power to love, sing, dance, cry, hate, run, eat: with the power to be a ripple on the destiny of the world.