Brandon+Mangum

"poetry is like making a joke. If you get one word wrong at the end of a joke, you've lost the whole thing."

I am cu-pid on the day of true love. my ap-pear-ance is not stu-pid to-day. my job match-ing cou-ples is very ra-pid. x's and o's like a game of tic tac toe tic tock time pass-ing like my ar-rows thrown

Raised:

I was raised by The soothing sounds in my hood. Every night my parents told me a lie They told me it was fireworks Just to keep me clam, Knowing damn well, that a god damn lie I’m that kinda man that never got told the truth.

Very disciplined Strong like the military Doing 30 push-ups a day just to keep me strong Never had a bully, always fought back Knew right from wrong I’m that kinda man that was raised by a dad in the navy.

Always having money Name brand clothes Always have the best things And a watch that you wish you had “I know I’m the shit” I’m that kinda man that always gets what he wants.

I was raised by my parents.

  ode to food I love food, my love for it grows bigger everyday i love the way it looks, with all its shapes and forms. when i taste it, i feel like all of my problems have disappeared, nothing else matter to me. tasting the bacon, egg and cheese in my mouth, will fill any hole in my heart. i love the nice tenderness of chicken, after eatting it i feel way stronger i love how food make me fell invincible. if i could eat all day i would be the happiest person in the world.  

I’m the person you hate; you might call me your worse nightmare I’m the person you talk about behind there back I’m like the rain on a nice summers day Or the snowstorm that shuts down a big amusement park. I’m someone that you never want to meet I’m all of your deepest, darkest emotions I’m more powerfully then anything, I can make people run away in fear If I’m so powerfully, why am I so sad? How could I possibly be sad, I’m doing great I have no friends. ** 3. ** ** My Mother on an Evening in Late Summer **

code 1 When the moon appears and a few wind-stricken barns stand out in the low-domed hills and shine with a light that is veiled and dust-filled and that floats upon the fields, my mother, with her hair in a bun, her face in shadow, and the smoke from her cigarette coiling close to the faint yellow sheen of her dress, stands near the house and watches the seepage of late light down through the sedges, the last gray islands of cloud taken from view, and the wind ruffling the moon's ash-colored coat on the black bay.

2

Soon the house, with its shades drawn closed, will send small carpets of lampglow into the haze and the bay will begin its loud heaving and the pines, frayed finials climbing the hill, will seem to graze the dim cinders of heaven. And my mother will stare into the starlanes, the endless tunnels of nothing, and as she gazes, under the hour's spell, she will think how we yield each night to the soundless storms of decay that tear at the folding flesh, and she will not know why she is here or what she is prisoner of if not the conditions of love that brought her to this.

3

My mother will go indoors and the fields, the bare stones will drift in peace, small creatures -- the mouse and the swift -- will sleep at opposite ends of the house. Only the cricket will be up, repeating its one shrill note to the rotten boards of the porch, to the rusted screens, to the air, to the rimless dark, to the sea that keeps to itself. Why should my mother awake? The earth is not yet a garden about to be turned. The stars are not yet bells that ring at night for the lost. It is much too late. code In this poem “My Mother in an Evening in Late Summer”, the poet didn’t use a rhyme scheme because the poet didn’t want his poem to be silly; it is a serious theme he is trying to get across, he made it more like a story. He talks about his mother and how his mother acts. He did give a little bit of imagery to help the reader get a feel for the mother. Eating poetry

Ink runs from the corners of my mouth. There is no happiness like mine. I have been eating poetry.

The librarian does not believe what she sees. Her eyes are sad and she walks with her hands in her dress.

The poems are gone. The light is dim. The dogs are on the basement stairs and coming up.

Their eyeballs roll, their blond legs burn like brush. The poor librarian begins to stamp her feet and weep.

She does not understand. When I get on my knees and lick her hand, she screams.

I am a new man. I snarl at her and bark. I romp with joy in the bookish dark. In the poem “Eating Poetry”, the poet uses a celebratory/fun tone and imagery in each stanza in order to get the readers to fully understand what he is trying to say, and in a funny way. This poem is about a person that is in the library and he is expressing his love for poetry, he said no happiness is like his, and then he talks about how he eats the book with poetry. The imagery helps the poem out because it is says how the people in there looked and reacted when he was eating the poems, this helps the reader get a better feel for the poem. This poem also uses some enjambment is used to make the reader slow down. That will help with the readers interpretation of the poem. the coming of light

Even this late it happens: the coming of love, the coming of light. You wake and the candles are lit as if by themselves, stars gather, dreams pour into your pillows, sending up warm bouquets of air. Even this late the bones of the body shine and tomorrow's dust flares into breath.

In this poem “The coming of light” by mark strand, the poet uses strong word and a lot of detail in one stanza. The poet uses a romantic and remorseful tone to give the poem the emotion it needs. The poem talks about love between people, how they love each other when they wake up and go to bed, and when they kiss they feel each other warm air on their bodies. This poem used some enjambments, and it helps with the tone because it makes the reader read slower. The tone is very important because the poet wants to make sure the reader understands the poem is about love and he want to have a romantic feel to it.