Found Poem

Without bombs,
Without ammunition aboard,
The plane should have enough power
To stay in the air.

Crash procedures were reviewed,
Special inspections completed,
Survival equipment in place,
Take off.

Clouds pressed against the plane,
Someone noticed one side's engines burning more fuel,
There was a sudden shudder,
"Prepare to crash."

Rolling onto the left side,
Engines thundering,
He felt intensely
Alive.

Pulled into the water,
Down,
Then up again,
The wires were tangled like spaghetti.

Arms flung out,
Trying to find a way
To escape the darkness
Pulling him under

Long, smooth metal
Is the savior.
Through the window he went,
Pushing off the frame.

Fumbling for the Mae West cords,
Praying no one poached the carbon dioxide canisters.
Suddenly light,
Floating up to the bright surface.

He burst into dazzling daylight,
Gasping for breath,
Followed by vomit,
"I survived."


- I chose this "section" because it had a lot of imagery. I took bits and pieces throughout the whole packet and made something out of it.
- I tried to write it so that people would get a picture in their head as they read.
- I like it because I feel like it paints a picture. I set it up this way to "add drama" to the poem.

(First part; background) Louis Zamperini (January 26, 1917) is the son of Italian immigrants Anthony Zamperini and Louise Dossi. His older brother is named Pete, and has two younger sisters, Virginia and Sylvia. The family moved to Torrance, California in 1919, where Louie attended Torrance High School. Louie and his family spoke no English when they moved to California, making him a target for bullies. His father taught him how to box in self-defense. Soon he claimed to be "beating the tar out of every one of them"..... To keep Louie out of trouble, Pete got him involved in the school track team. In 1934 Zamperini set a world interscholastic record for the mile, clocking in at 04:21.2 at the preliminary meet to the state championships.The next week, he won the championships with a 04:27. His record helped him to win a scholarship to the University of Southern California and eventually a place on the 1936 U.S. Olympic team in the 5000 meters, at 19 the youngest U.S. qualifier ever in that event.

(Second part; War life) Zamperini enlisted in the United States Army Air Forces in September 1941, and eventually became a second lieutenant. He was deployed to the Pacific island of Funafuti as a bombardier on a B-24 Liberator bomber. In April 1942, the plane was badly damaged in combat, and the crew was told to search for the lost aircraft and crew. They were given another B-24, The Green Hornet. While on the search, mechanical difficulties caused the plane to crash into the ocean 850 miles west of Oahu, killing eight of the eleven men aboard. The three survivors (Zamperini; Russel Allen "Phil" Phillips; Francis "Mac" McNamara), had little food and no water. They drank rainwater and ate small fish, raw. They caught two albatrosses, which they ate and used to catch fish, all while fending off constant shark attacks and nearly being capsized by a storm. They were strafed multiple times by a Japanese bomber, puncturing their life raft, but no one was hit. (McNamara died after thirty-three days at sea.)
On their 47th day adrift, Zamperini and Phillips reached land in the Marshall Islands and were quickly captured by the Japanese Navy. They were held in captivity and severely beaten and mistreated until the end of the war in August, 1945. Zamperini was held in the Japanese POW camp at Ōfuna for captives who were not registered as prisoners of war. He was especially tormented by sadistic prison guard Mutsuhiro Watanabe (nicknamed "The Bird"). Held at the same camp was then-Major Greg "Pappy" Boyington, and in his book, Baa Baa Black Sheep, he discusses Zamperini and the Italian recipes he would write to keep the prisoners' minds off the food and conditions.
Zamperini had at first been declared missing at sea, and then, a year and a day after his disappearance, killed in action. When he eventually returned home he received a hero's welcome.

* Zamperini wrote two memoirs about his experiences, both of them bearing the same title, Devil at My Heels. The first was written with Helen Itria was published by Dutton in 1956. The second was written with David Rensin appeared in 2003 from Morrow. *

I am from

I am from picture frames,

From Pine-sol and air freshener, 

I am from the small house on the left,

Where everyone is welcome. 

I am from the soil,

The oak tree,

Whose long gone limbs I remember 

As if they were my own. 

I'm from homemade banana bread and blue eyes,

From Dawn and Jeffrey.

I'm from smart-alecks, quick thinkers,

And hard workers. 

I'm from "No" and "You can be anything you want to be."

And "This Little Light of Mine".

I'm from Robbinsdale and the Czech Republic,

Southwestern sloppy joes and pickle roll ups,

From counterfeiters,

Who were caught and jailed for five years. 

From military flags sitting on bookshelves, 

And my great-great-great grandmothers clock, stored away on the basement brick work. 

Poem

Background: Growing up, my mom experienced a lot of abuse from her father. Physical, mental and emotional. He was very controlling and angry and would walk out all the time. When my mom was 22, she married my father. Let's just say he was not any better of a man than my grandfather was. They had three kids together, but that only made their marriage more strained and eventually, it fell apart.

Before:

The Endless Game

I used to be,

So broken,

So fearful,

So isolated.

I felt as though I was sinking,

So much deeper,

So much lower, 

So much faster each day.

Everything I did as a wife,

Was wrong to him,

Was never good enough, 

Was never enough,

He wanted more.

When he would lie,

It was as transparent as glass.

The sadness his unfaithfulness and abuse brought me,

Engulfed me, pulling me under,

Twisting, 

Turning,

Spinning me around.

I left broken

After: 

A New Beginning  

I am strong now,

I stand on my own,

I got myself together

And created a life for my family.

I have three amazing kids,

Who shine as bright as the sun.

My love for them

Is as strong as Hercules.

I have a house

That I pay for on my own.

I have a job

That allows me to put food on the table

Years ago, 

I thought I needed him,

To live,

To feel loved,

To be worth something

I realized that I don't

I am strong now 

Reflection; 

In my poem, I used personification (the sadness...), simile (is as strong as Hercules... as transparent as glass...), allusion (same as the simile for Hercules) and repetition. I thought I did an okay job on this, it's definitely something I could improve on because it has been years since I have written poetry, I used to do it every day. I feel like I needed a little more time and help on writing this, I feel like it isn't as strong as it should be and I'm disappointed with myself. 

Poem

Background: Growing up, my mom endured a lot of abuse from her father. Anything you can think of, she probably went through it. When she was 22, she married my dad. He was very controlling, angry, abusive and neglecting at times. You could say she got out of a bad situation and into another..


Before:
I used to be
So broken,
So fearful,
So isolated

I felt as though I was sinking,
So much deeper,
So much lower,
So much further down

Everything I did as a wife
Was wrong to him,
Was never good enough,
Was never enough,
He wanted more

When he would lie,
It was as transparent as glass.
The sadness his lies and abuse brought me,
Ran deeper than an ocean

I left broken


After:
I am strong now,
I stand on my own,
I got myself together
And created a life for my family

I have three amazing kids,
Who shine as bright as the sun
My love for them
Is as strong as Hercules

I have a house
That I pay for on my own
I have a job
That allows me to put food on the table

Years ago,
I thought I needed him
To live,
To feel loved,
But I don't

Because I am strong now

Lord of the Flies Connection -- Basically Good or Basically Evil?

Basically Good, or Basically Evil?

To me, this article makes it seem like people can be basically good and evil. 

On September 17, 2013, a man named Aaron Alexis, 34, went to a navy yard in Washington and unleashed a barrage of bullets using an AR-15, and a semi-automatic handgun. The AR-15 is believed to have been used for most of the attack. The gunman killed twelve people before being killed himself by police during a shoot out. The part where I believe that people are basically evil is when I read that the gunman was shot and killed. I get the police were just doing their job, and that twelve other people were killed, but things  could have been handled differently. They didn't have to kill him.

The news influenced Sen. Dianne Feinstein, one of the strongest proponents of a ban on assault weapons like the AR-15, to issue a statement the same day asking, "When will enough be enough?"

That statement is an example, to me, of people being basically good. The Senator is trying to do something good for this country by banning guns. And I see his point. There's been too many tragedies involving guns. So, when will enough actually be enough?

English 10 - First Poem

Hi, how are you?
Yes, I am a soccer player.
I've played for 10 years.
Yes, it involves a lot of running. We scrimmage a lot during practices, and we're constantly running during games.
I have asthma, so sometimes it gets really difficult to run. It feels like I have a ton of bricks on my chest, my throat feels like it's closing and my lungs start to burn.
I play defense.
Yes, there's a huge amount of pressure on defensive players.
We're required to support the goalie and help keep the ball away from the net as best we can.
Yes, I've been injured.
Pulled muscles, rolled ankles, knee problems, and loads of bruises.
No, I would never quit.
It's not "just a sport", it's my life.



Why I wrote this poem:
I wrote this poem because many people think that soccer is a fairly easy sport. Well, it's not. It takes loads of dedication, commitment, practice, hard work, sweat & injuries you don't plan on getting. Many people spend more time with a soccer ball than they do with friends, family, or even on school work. It's something that floods through the veins of soccer players that makes the sport so great. The skills & technique isn't just handed to you, it's worked for & earned. So if you believed soccer was easy before, try it & think again.