Monday, February 21, 2011

Reading Myself

Like thousands, I took just pride and more than just,
struck matches that brought my blood to a boil;
I memorized the tricks to set the river on fire-
somehow never wrote something to go back to.
Can I suppose I am finished with wax flowers
and have earned my grass on the minor slopes of Parnassus....
No honeycomb is built without a bee
adding circle to circle, cell to cell,
the wax and honey of a mausoleum-
this round dome proves its maker is alive,
the corpse of the insect lives embalmed in honey,
prays that its perishable work live long
enough for the sweet-toogh bear to desecrate-
this open open coffin.
This poem has a hopeless effect on me. Lowell is using an analogy of a bee and its life and comparing it to his own actions throughout his life. The bee makes honeycombs cell after cell, with of what purpose? Lowell is comparing that with his life and the decisions he makes too. He is living in the "now" so to speak and in reminisence he realizes his actions have no purpose. The structure in this poem is very interesting as well. The author uses so much punctuation. I feel like he uses punctuations in the poem so that when your speaking at a natural pause he just adds in periods and commas. This is interesting becuase he obviously does not trust the reader to read it how he speaks it, which is pretty cool.

This poem is very relatable in terms with a teenager. Most teenagers live in the moment. I like how this author shows the bad affects of living in the moment. He is always trying to get a small thrill in his purposeless life.

1 comment:

  1. Good. Try to get a little deeper. You are skimming the surface. You can do it!