Jovan+Lewis

Sonnet

Erno Rubik with your puzzle insane Just stick to architecture and sculpting Frustration always comes with this small game But some are lucky at this sort of thing More complicated than the human mind So when people solve it they shout out loud And now there are much more of your games kind So many Rubiks 'round I bet you're proud O all the fame and fortune came your way There are secrets to solving this mad maze There is more than one way for us to play Frustration always comes before we're done But somehow this thing you made is just fun

Ode to Ice Cream It is the perfect treat on a summer day The sweet creamy goodness Melts away in your hands and mouth As it is devoured by those who desire it However this delicate treat has a defense Sending painful chills to the brain Giving the sensation that the eyes Are being pulled back into the head The only way to bypass this defense Is to devour the treat slowly

"I Was Raised by..."

I was raised by Cheesesteak lovin' Board-game playin' Dancin', Singin' "You don't know me" Kind of family

I was helped by Black and white ones That bring the fun Always doin' what they do "Thats some funny s*** right there" Kind of friends

I reside in Former D.C. With all ages around me Always gettin' something new Knowledge, Art, and skateparks too With transport marked as colored lines "You ain't have a cheesesteak 'till you had mine" Kind of city.

Personal Poem It has to stop all the yelling all the fighting STOP BRINGING UP MY AGE I don't like it My siblings don't like it I don't try to hurt you with my mistakes but mistakes are mistakes no mistakes is not human I know most of the work is easy but I said MOST NOT ALL and to tell the truth yelling will soon have no effect Shout at me all you want once it stops working it's done that will be nothing but water on gator-skin sliding off of me with no problem And I don't have the courage to say what I want to you when I get mad That is why I cry when I'm yelled at because you are so obsessed with what happened that you refuse to listen to another point refusing to take an answer that isn't the one you want This effects me in school This effects my work all those angry thoughts in my head questioning why didn't I say it then Why is it so hard to tell them the truth It keeps me off focus and not in my best range I've even tried taking it out on material Items I've KICKED a HOLE in the wall from anger toward my mom because I can't kick her this time it is not **I** that is out of line It is **YOU** mom and dad so when you change your ways we will all see improvement in both my grades and our family relationship.

Poetry Analysis Poet: Stéphane Mallarmé

1. A tomb for Anatole

Child sprung from the two of us Showing us our ideal, the way ours! father and mother who sadly existing survive him as the two extremes badly coupled in him and sundered from whence hi death o beliterating this little child "self"

Analysis Paragraph:

In this poem It seems like the speaker is talking to his marital sibling. This poem has an organization however it is only one stanza. This whole poem must be one single thought because there is no punctuation the "o" creates a pause and emphasizes the moment. The line lengths are mostly consistent except for that one line. The diction seems moderately formal and the tone seemed elegant and smooth yet also firm and serious. I can get a image of a baby and arguing parents from this poem. I think the deeper meaning of this poem is that when you do something as drastic as bringing new life then you life in turn will change. 2. A throw of the dice
 * NOTHING

of the memorable crisis or might the event have been accomplished in view of all results null human

WILL HAVE TAKEN PLACE an ordinary elevation pours out absence

BUT THE PLACE some splashing below of water as if to disperse the empty act abruptly which otherwise by its falsehood would have founded perdition

in these latitudes of indeterminate waves in which all reality dissolves

EXCEPT on high PERHAPS as far as place can fuse with the beyond

aside from the interest marked out to it in general by a certain obliquity through a certain declivity of fires toward what must be the Septentrion as well as North A CONSTELLATION

cold from forgetfulness and desuetude not so much that it doesn't number on some vacant and superior surface the successive shock in the way of stars of a total account in the making

keeping vigil doubting rolling shining and meditating

before coming to a halt at some terminus that sanctifies it

All Thought emits a Throw of the Dice ||  Analysis Paragraph:  In this poem It seems like the speaker is talking to him/herself. This poem has a strange organization but there are see a few stanzas of 6-7 lines. This whole poem must be one single thought because there is no punctuation but there are capitalized words this must be to induce emphasis on those words. The capitalized items are; NOTHING, WILL HAVE TAKEN PLACE, BUT THE PLACE, and A CONSTELLATION. Considering their positions in the poem they add stress and emphasis to them similar to the way a poet would raise their voice when reading certain lines. The line lengths vary and its hard to tell with them all over the place, but you could call all of the enjambments to bring a pause while reading. The diction seems moderately formal and the tone seemed elegant and smooth yet also firm and serious. I can get a faint image of a game with that last line, "All Thought emits a Throw of the Dice" or maybe taking a risk while gambling where the gambler is on the brink of losing everything. From this excerpt of a who-knows-how-long poem I cannot find a deeper meaning or thesis statement based on it. Only that when people take a big risk it seems as if the universe stops to watch the result. 3. Reminiscence at the quincunx, the tents of a fair were unfolded; did I experience the future and that I would take this form? I loved the odor of the vagabonds, and was drawn toward them, forgetting my comrades. No cry of a chorus clamoring through the canvas rift, nor distant tirade, the drama requiring the holy hour of the footlights, I wanted to speak with an urchin too unsteady in his wavering to figure forth among his people, in a nightcap cut like Dante's hood who was already returning to himself, in the guise of a slice of bread and soft cheese, the snow of mountain peaks, the lily, or some other whiteness constitutive of internal wings: I would have begged him to admit me to his superior meal, which was quickly shared with some illustrious older boy who had sprung up against a nearby tent and was engaged in feats of strength and banalities consistent with the day. Naked, he pirouetted in what seemed to me the surprising nimbleness of his tights and moreover began: "Your parents? — I have none. — Go on, if you knew what a farce that is, a father...even the other week when he was off his soup, he still made faces as funny as ever, when the boss was flinging out smacks and kicks. My dear fellow!" and triumphantly raising a leg toward me with glorious ease, "Papa astounds us"; then, biting into the little one's chaste meal: "Your mama, maybe you don't have one, maybe you're alone? Mine eats rope and everyone claps his hands. you have no idea what funny people parents are, how they make you laugh." The show was heating up, he left: myself, I sighed, suddenly dismayed at not having parents. ||
 * Orphan, I was wandering in black and with an eye vacant of family:
 * Analysis Paragraph:

In this poem the poet and/or the main character seems to be addressing the reader.According to the poem above there is no rhyme scheme or any hint of a pattern in the line organization. It seems to be free verse. ||