Leeann+Nguyen

" Poetry is above all a concentration of the power of language, which is the power of our ultimate relationship to everything in the universe." ~ Adrienne Rich

by: Leeann Nguyen** In the far right of the room, Appears an enormous kings sized bed.
 * Ode My Bed

It’s oak rectangular wooden frame. It’s soft foamy mattress. The bright greeny sheets and pillows.

When I lay in bed, my head sinks into the form from the night before. Curling into the position Shadow comes and rubs his furry body against my blanket.

In the dark room, Silence with the occasion of yawning, the night pass. Morning appears can’t wait until tonight.

by: Leeann Nguyen** Friday in may, at the age of 6. arrived at the Lowell Elementary Magnet school. Nervous, shy and ready to perform. Got on stage and announced. "My name is Leeann Nguyen and I will be playing, Twinkle, twinkle little star & Mary had a little lamb."
 * Praise

Sat down hand on the black and whites keys. I played, red as sun at dust, in a traditional yellow dress. I finished and got up, faced my fear and.. a standing ovation.

By: Leeann** If only I could write a song, it would be about my life. It would tell you how I grown. If I could write a song, it would be for the people Who made a difference in my life. If only I could write a song, it would be from the soul travel to the heart. If only I could write a song, I would want it to make a difference to the people who listen to it. If only I could write a song. ..
 * Music (riffed from “If I knew” by Billy)

By: Leeann** In a life of misfortunes and sorrow People do the saddest and weirdest thing. People may wonder what going wrong. But people’s life always isn’t that peaceful.
 * LIfe?

Some may commit suicide while other live it. People live with tears and regret forever. Not knowing how to relieve the agony. Sitting on the bed wondering about tomorrow?

Then it comes, when blood is everywhere, the tears. Mothers regret, fathers’ wonder, what occurred. Blood drips on the side and people stand around. The child is in pieces on the ground, Tears!

Why do these things happen to most children? Life is so unfair, and I miss him so!



Analyzing my poetry I realized that my poems are about the tings I went through or the past. I love poetry but I’m not really great at writing it. The sonnet was the most difficult to do because the 14 lines and the fix pattern that follows was hard to do. I wanted my poems to be fun to read but also really thing that occurs to me. The riffed poems were the easiest to write. I feel that this project was really interesting because i thought poems were just rhyming and words that followed but poems is different, it has most to do, all different types of poems and style. Would I continue writing poetry no. I really feel my poetry not that great and I feel my English is bad. I will continue to write but that it.
 * Analyzing My Poetry**
 * by: Leeann**

by George Gordon Byron** When we two parted In silence and tears, Half broken-hearted To sever for years, Pale grew thy cheek and cold, Colder thy kiss; Truly that hour foretold Sorrow to this.
 * When We Two Parted

The dew of the morning Sunk chill on my brow-- It felt like the warning Of what I feel now. Thy vows are all broken, And light is thy fame; I hear thy name spoken, And share in its shame.

They name thee before me, A knell to mine ear; A shudder comes o'er me-- Why wert thou so dear? They know not I knew thee, Who knew thee too well-- Long, long shall I rue thee, Too deeply to tell.

In secret we met-- In silence I grieve, That thy heart could forget, Thy spirit deceive. If I should meet thee After long years, How should I greet thee?-- With silence and tears.

by George Gordon Byron** She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that's best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes: Thus mellowed to that tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
 * She Walks in Beauty

One shade the more, one ray the less, Had half impaired the nameless grace Which waves in every raven tress, Or softly lightens o'er her face; Where thoughts serenely sweet express How pure, how dear their dwelling place.

And on that cheek, and o'er that brow, So soft, so calm, yet eloquent, The smiles that win, the tints that glow, But tell of days in goodness spent, A mind at peace with all below, A heart whose love is innocent!

by George Gordon Byron** So, we'll go no more a roving So late into the night, Though the heart be still as loving, And the moon be still as bright.
 * So we'll go no more a roving

For the sword outwears its sheath, And the soul wears out the breast, And the heart must pause to breathe, And love itself have rest.

Though the night was made for loving, And the day returns too soon, Yet we'll go no more a roving By the light of the moon.

**Analyze George Gordon Byron**
George Gordon Byron is a rhythmic poet. Most of his poems ends with a rhyming word. The poems I was analyzing were “she walks in Beauty”, “When we two parted” and “ So we’ll go no more a roving”. His poems have end rhythms like part from the poem “When We Two Parted” (lines 9-16) The dew of the morning Sunk chill on my brow-- It felt like the warning Of what I feel now. Thy vows are all broken, And light is thy fame; I hear thy name spoken, And share in its shame. I think most of his poems were about his ex wife, they married and year and had many argument and fought then had legal separation. The poem “ When We Two Parted” it ends like if they ever meant how would he say hi. (lines 25-32) In secret we met-- In silence I grieve, That thy heart could forget, Thy spirit deceive. If I should meet thee After long years, How should I greet thee?-- With silence and tears. I think he doesn’t believe in love anymore because the poems I analyze talk about love and it tells me he gave up like the stanza from “So we'll go no more a roving” (lines 3-8) Though the heart be still as loving, And the moon be still as bright. For the sword outwears its sheath, And the soul wears out the breast, And the heart must pause to breathe, And love itself have rest. He good poet, I feel bad for what he went through but I guess if it didn’t happened he wouldn’t be able to write so beautifully.