Stephen+Holts


 * Poetry is… **

** “…either something that lives like a fire inside of you…or else it is nothing” **  ** - F. Scott Fitzgerald **

My Inspiration: media type="youtube" key="wZDv9pgHp8Q" width="425" height="350" I love the way you pop. Crack. You're hot. I can't get enough of you, but you're not good for me. "One last time." I always say but never I mean it. You're aroma can be picked out from miles away. It draws me closer. It wakes me up. You're so flexible. You make anything better. Nothing can be ruined by adding a little bit of you. You've even managed to get in my salad. That's how bad everyone wants you. And who can blame them, everyone loves you, Bacon.
 * Bacon - An Ode **

Abud really wanted to eat some food. He talked to his friends they weren't in the mood. He begged. He screamed. To him, they still said nay. "Come on." He said. Still, they voted against. Abud had not eaten at all today. "No food!" They said with all their money spent. "Let's go!" He said. "I am going to pass!" "We have no cash. You can go if you want. "Besides," they said "you ate first class. In math." "Did not!" He yelled and with one great big punt,  Abud kicked Stan's glasses away from him.  They fought. They went to detention for lunch.  At lunch they had food he smiled happily,  he broke a rule, they called his family.
 * Abud's Hunger - A Sonnet **

I was raised by mask wearing favoring "Don't bother me." Type of parents
 * Who Raised Me **

Some "Call me when you're on your  way home." Type of mother

Some fist bumping, "You ain't no man." Type of father

Some "You're nothing like your sister." Type of criticism

The cold, unforgiving never-forgetting Type of judgement

"Love us, love your sister,  love your family." Type of values

The "Be better than us" Type of encouragement

The "You're not smarter than me." Type of reality

Some "Skin and bones" Type of comedy

The faces, the feelings, the taunts, the words.

I was raised by my parents.

He spoke, she listened. As long as he had her ear, Only lies spoken.
 * Liar - A Series of Haikus **

His plan worked. She fell. He had her heart in his hand. He tightened. It crushed.

He spoke, she listened. Again, he only spoke lies. She was crushed. Again.

Now her ear is sick. Infected. She hears all lies. Even the truth, lies.

All lies. All liars. She trusts no one, has no one. All because of him.

He changed her with lies. Now truth speaks, but she hears not. Thanks to you, liar.

** Poet's Statement ** All of my poems are different. Different inspirations, different techniques, different uses of language, you get the point. For //Bacon,// I used a lot of loving descriptions. Because it was an ode, we were supposed to speak of our subject as if we were writing a song praising our subject. I decided to personify bacon as much as I could, almost as if it were a real person. //Abud's Hunger// was the hardest of the three to write because there's a syllable limit per line, AND a rhyme scheme. That means I had to stick to 10 syllables per line, and make them rhyme. On top of that, I was supposed to write a story. I ended up filling most of the lines with back and forth dialogue, but I got sick of the talking towards the end, so I had to think of a way to wrap it up. I think my choice of ending was a bit unrealistic, but other than that, it was an adequate sonnet.  When I wrote L // iar, // I imagined a girl being lied to constantly, and have her experience with liars alternate and control her perception of people from then on. L // iar // was a bit personal because I have many friends and relatives that have trust issues because they'd been lied to so many times, so this was my poem representing them. Writing this in the form of a haiku was pretty interesting because of the way haikus are written. The syllable limit per line (5,7,5) forced me to think more about what word was going to go where. It was a bit hard not being able to right exactly what I wanted to write, but I think it turned out okay.

** Epitaph on a Tyrant ** **__ By W. H. Auden __** Perfection, of a kind, was what he was after, And the poetry he invented was easy to understand; He knew human folly like the back of his hand, And was greatly interested in armies and fleets; When he laughed, respectable senators burst with laughter, And when he cried the little children died in the streets.

Epitaph on a Tyrant could be the eulogy of a dead dictator. You can imagine a context where this is read. It’s almost like the people under this tyrant's rule were reading this at his funeral in a celebration of his failure. "...when he laughed, respectable senators burst with laughter, and when he cried the little children died in the streets.” That lines describes the type of influence the tyrant had on those under him. When he was happy, they were relieved. When he was angry or upset, people died. Auden probably used this type of language to send a mental picture to the reader's head to show them what the tyrant was like while he was alive, and maybe even get the reader to side with the writer and hate the tyrant as much as the reader does.

** The Shield of Achilles ** __ By W. H. Auden __ She looked over his shoulder For vines and olive trees, Marble well-governed cities And ships upon untamed seas, But there on the shining metal His hands had put instead An artificial wilderness And a sky like lead.

A plain without a feature, bare and brown, No blade of grass, no sign of neighborhood, Nothing to eat and nowhere to sit down, Yet, congregated on its blankness, stood An unintelligible multitude, A million eyes, a million boots in line, Without expression, waiting for a sign.

Out of the air a voice without a face Proved by statistics that some cause was just In tones as dry and level as the place: No one was cheered and nothing was discussed; Column by column in a cloud of dust They marched away enduring a belief Whose logic brought them, somewhere else, to grief.

She looked over his shoulder For ritual pieties, White flower-garlanded heifers, Libation and sacrifice, But there on the shining metal Where the altar should have been, She saw by his flickering forge-light Quite another scene.

Barbed wire enclosed an arbitrary spot Where bored officials lounged (one cracked a joke) And sentries sweated for the day was hot: A crowd of ordinary decent folk Watched from without and neither moved nor spoke As three pale figures were led forth and bound To three posts driven upright in the ground.

The mass and majesty of this world, all That carries weight and always weighs the same Lay in the hands of others; they were small And could not hope for help and no help came: What their foes like to do was done, their shame Was all the worst could wish; they lost their pride And died as men before their bodies died.

She looked over his shoulder For athletes at their games, Men and women in a dance Moving their sweet limbs Quick, quick, to music, But there on the shining shield His hands had set no dancing-floor But a weed-choked field.

A ragged urchin, aimless and alone, Loitered about that vacancy; a bird Flew up to safety from his well-aimed stone: That girls are raped, that two boys knife a third, Were axioms to him, who'd never heard Of any world where promises were kept, Or one could weep because another wept.

The thin-lipped armorer, Hephaestos, hobbled away, Thetis of the shining breasts Cried out in dismay At what the god had wrought To please her son, the strong Iron-hearted man-slaying Achilles Who would not live long.

The Shield of Achilles is a poem that stretches a short moment to such a length that everything can be seen in great detail. The language that Auden uses to drag out the moment of a woman waiting on her loved one to come home, and soldiers on the frontline, adds suspense as you read. “She looked over his shoulder for athletes at their games, men and women in a dance, moving their sweet limbs quick, quick, to music, but there on the shining shield his hands had set no dancing-floor, but a weed-choked field.” This is an excerpt from The Shield of Achilles that shows a woman looking back on the good times. The celebrations, the dances, the games. Now the reality sinks in that the one she loves isn’t celebrating or dancing, but running through a field fighting. Moments stretched like this are all throughout this poem, and these moments are extended so you can see the smallest of details. The Shield of Achilles is shows that even the smallest of moments can be important.

Time will say nothing but I told you so, Time only knows the price we have to pay; If I could tell you I would let you know.
 * If I could tell you **
 * __ By W. H. Auden __**

If we should weep when clowns put on their show, If we should stumble when musicians play, Time will say nothing but I told you so.

There are no fortunes to be told, although, Because I love you more than I can say, If I could tell you I would let you know.

The winds must come from somewhere when they blow, There must be reasons why the leaves decay; Time will say nothing but I told you so.

Perhaps the roses really want to grow, The vision seriously intends to stay; If I could tell you I would let you know.

Suppose the lions all get up and go, And all the brooks and soldiers run away; Will Time say nothing but I told you so? If I could tell you I would let you know.

Written by W.H. Auden, If I could tell you, a letter written from Auden to his lost loved one. The letter was an attempt at reconciliation or closure. His desire to tell this person everything he wanted to tell them was so real it was almost heartbreaking. I think everyone can relate to this fantasy of one last conversation with a loved one. “There are no fortunes to be told, although, because I love you more than I can say, if I could tell you I would let you know.” He wishes he could tell this person how much he loves them, but for some reason he can’t. Somehow, circumstance took this person away from him. In this poem, you can feel the pain and the longing to be reunited with Auden's loved one. The language he used makes this poem feel real.