Desirée+Mack

"Poetry is like making a joke. If you get one word wrong at the end of the joke, you've lost the whole thing."-William Stanley Merwin

__Ode to the Moon__ As a young girl When I rode in the car I watched the sky And something bright caught my eye The world around me was so dark and cold The moon hovered there glimmering bright and bold

She lay there full bodied Blessed with beauty A little different every night

I always had the question Why does she follow you wherever you go And whisper in the wind to make her presence known I pondered this for a while

I found that she follows and watches over me To protect and guide From all the malice of the night

__Praise poem__ Never in my life had I run that fast Down the busy streets and across the grass The four legged brown monster was hot on our trail Pray to God my feet don’t fail Praise to Brandon for spotting the danger Praise to the gym teacher Who made sure we always had on sneakers Like an Olympic track star I jumped over rocks and hurdles In my mind I rehearsed hymnals Praise to my thighs for staying strong Praise to the universe For making in sure nothing went wrong I made it to the Rec. center safe and sound Come to find out he was the nicest dog in town

__Sonnet 1- Deep water__ I am in need of deep water To jump in over my head To drown all of my sorrows and failures And lay them to rest Swim down to the bottom Feel the changing pulse of the water I need to feel it caress and cool my skin Finally, finally touching the bottom To drag up some hope and lost, silenced dreams Slowly but surely reaching the surface Feeling the changes in the tide Soaring high and breaking through the surface Taking the time to collect the precious warm air Expanding my lungs to revive the hope and lost, silenced dreams

__Living life__ I love living life So many paths to follow Life is a long dream -Riffed from Maya Angelou's untitled poem from Book of Love

__Come down, O maid__ (Lord Alfred Tennyson) Come down, O maid, from yonder mountain height: What pleasure lives in height (the shepherd sang) In height and cold, the splendour of the hills? But cease to move so near the Heavens, and cease To glide a sunbeam by the blasted Pine, To sit a star upon the sparkling spire; And come, for Love is of the valley, come, For Love is of the valley, come thou down And find him; by the happy threshold, he, Or hand in hand with Plenty in the maize, Or red with spirted purple of the vats, Or foxlike in the vine; nor cares to walk With Death and Morning on the silver horns, Nor wilt thou snare him in the white ravine, Nor find him dropt upon the firths of ice, That huddling slant in furrow-cloven falls To roll the torrent out of dusky doors: But follow; let the torrent dance thee down To find him in the valley; let the wild Lean-headed Eagles yelp alone, and leave The monstrous ledges there to slope, and spill Their thousand wreaths of dangling water-smoke, That like a broken purpose waste in air: So waste not thou; but come; for all the vales Await thee; azure pillars of the hearth Arise to thee; the children call, and I Thy shepherd pipe, and sweet is every sound, Sweeter thy voice, but every sound is sweet; Myriads of rivulets hurrying thro' the lawn, The moan of doves in immemorial elms, And murmuring of innumerable bees.

__The Lady of Shalott__ (Lord Alfred Tennyson) On either side the river lie Long fields of barley and of rye, That clothe the wold and meet the sky; And through the field the road run by To many-tower'd Camelot; And up and down the people go, Gazing where the lilies blow Round an island there below, The island of Shalott. Willows whiten, aspens quiver, Little breezes dusk and shiver Through the wave that runs for ever By the island in the river Flowing down to Camelot. Four grey walls, and four grey towers, Overlook a space of flowers, And the silent isle imbowers The Lady of Shalott. By the margin, willow veil'd, Slide the heavy barges trail'd By slow horses; and unhail'd The shallop flitteth silken-sail'd Skimming down to Camelot: But who hath seen her wave her hand? Or at the casement seen her stand? Or is she known in all the land, The Lady of Shalott? Only reapers, reaping early, In among the bearded barley Hear a song that echoes cheerly From the river winding clearly; Down to tower'd Camelot; And by the moon the reaper weary, Piling sheaves in uplands airy, Listening, whispers, " 'Tis the fairy The Lady of Shalott." There she weaves by night and day A magic web with colours gay. She has heard a whisper say, A curse is on her if she stay To look down to Camelot. She knows not what the curse may be, And so she weaveth steadily, And little other care hath she, The Lady of Shalott. And moving through a mirror clear That hangs before her all the year, Shadows of the world appear. There she sees the highway near Winding down to Camelot; There the river eddy whirls, And there the surly village churls, And the red cloaks of market girls Pass onward from Shalott. Sometimes a troop of damsels glad, An abbot on an ambling pad, Sometimes a curly shepherd lad, Or long-hair'd page in crimson clad Goes by to tower'd Camelot; And sometimes through the mirror blue The knights come riding two and two. She hath no loyal Knight and true, The Lady of Shalott. But in her web she still delights To weave the mirror's magic sights, For often through the silent nights A funeral, with plumes and lights And music, went to Camelot; Or when the Moon was overhead, Came two young lovers lately wed. "I am half sick of shadows," said The Lady of Shalott. A bow-shot from her bower-eaves, He rode between the barley sheaves, The sun came dazzling thro' the leaves, And flamed upon the brazen greaves Of bold Sir Lancelot. A red-cross knight for ever kneel'd To a lady in his shield, That sparkled on the yellow field, Beside remote Shalott. The gemmy bridle glitter'd free, Like to some branch of stars we see Hung in the golden Galaxy. The bridle bells rang merrily As he rode down to Camelot: And from his blazon'd baldric slung A mighty silver bugle hung, And as he rode his armor rung Beside remote Shalott. All in the blue unclouded weather Thick-jewell'd shone the saddle-leather, The helmet and the helmet-feather Burn'd like one burning flame together, As he rode down to Camelot. As often thro' the purple night, Below the starry clusters bright, Some bearded meteor, burning bright, Moves over still Shalott. His broad clear brow in sunlight glow'd; On burnish'd hooves his war-horse trode; From underneath his helmet flow'd His coal-black curls as on he rode, As he rode down to Camelot. From the bank and from the river He flashed into the crystal mirror, "Tirra lirra," by the river Sang Sir Lancelot. She left the web, she left the loom, She made three paces through the room, She saw the water-lily bloom, She saw the helmet and the plume, She look'd down to Camelot. Out flew the web and floated wide; The mirror crack'd from side to side; "The curse is come upon me," cried The Lady of Shalott. In the stormy east-wind straining, The pale yellow woods were waning, The broad stream in his banks complaining. Heavily the low sky raining Over tower'd Camelot; Down she came and found a boat Beneath a willow left afloat, And around about the prow she wrote The Lady of Shalott. And down the river's dim expanse Like some bold seer in a trance, Seeing all his own mischance -- With a glassy countenance Did she look to Camelot. And at the closing of the day She loosed the chain, and down she lay; The broad stream bore her far away, The Lady of Shalott. Lying, robed in snowy white That loosely flew to left and right -- The leaves upon her falling light -- Thro' the noises of the night, She floated down to Camelot: And as the boat-head wound along The willowy hills and fields among, They heard her singing her last song, The Lady of Shalott. Heard a carol, mournful, holy, Chanted loudly, chanted lowly, Till her blood was frozen slowly, And her eyes were darkened wholly, Turn'd to tower'd Camelot. For ere she reach'd upon the tide The first house by the water-side, Singing in her song she died, The Lady of Shalott. Under tower and balcony, By garden-wall and gallery, A gleaming shape she floated by, Dead-pale between the houses high, Silent into Camelot. Out upon the wharfs they came, Knight and Burgher, Lord and Dame, And around the prow they read her name, The Lady of Shalott. Who is this? And what is here? And in the lighted palace near Died the sound of royal cheer; And they crossed themselves for fear, All the Knights at Camelot; But Lancelot mused a little space He said, "She has a lovely face; God in his mercy lend her grace, The Lady of Shalott."

Lord Alfred Tennyson was a poetic genius he used his surroundings, and moral views in his poetry. In the poems I selected, Lord Alfred Tennyson gave us a view into the victorian world and showed us the lives of women in that era. In these poems the world of courting and marriage are depicted.

In the beginning of “The Lady of Shalott” it tells of how she is locked in a tower with beautiful surroundings away from the rest the world. //Four grey walls, and four grey towers, Overlook a space of flowers, And the silent isle imbower. . . And moving through a mirror clear, That hangs before her all the year, Shadows of the world appear. (Lord Alfred Tennyson)// The tower symbolizes the sheltered life women have lived. It symbolizes the upper class circle; everyone around “protects” them from the “outside world” and makes sure they obtain a lady like status and well represent the circle. When watching the mirror it is the only chance for The Lady of Shalott to experience real life outside of the circle or to see her dreams and who she really is inside of her self. The poet used a sad, depressed tone to reflect the way the women of this time period felt. There were dreams, wishes, and opinions before the courting began, but they were never to be expressed. The only thing women were supposed to do was prepare to be the best wife possible.

Relationships between men and women were most definitely different than today, the dating process was of a whole other world. In this part of “Come Down, O Maid”, a colloquial poem, the shepherd has come to court his beauty. //For Love is of the valley, / come thou down, And find him; by the happy threshold, / he, Or hand in hand with Plenty in the maize. (Lord Alfred Tennyson)// This part of the poem is a contradiction to most of the ways women found love. In the 19th century many women were forced into arranged marriages. An arranged marriage is a marriage planned and agreed to by the families or guardians of the bride and groom, who have little or no say in the matter themselves. (Dictionary) In many cases families married for money. The laws of Britain were based on the idea that the husband would take care of his wife. Once married, the woman’s wealth was passed on to her husband. Also the family of the bride would arrange the marriage to get out of debt and obtain the life they had become accustomed to. The lives of women have been dictated since the womb by their parents and then later their husbands.

In this part of The Lady of Shalott Sir Lancelot has come for The Lady of Shalott. //Out flew the web and floated wide; / The mirror cracked from side to side; / "The curse is come upon me," cried / The Lady of Shalott. (Lord Alfred Tennyson)// The connotation of the web represents her life and when she throws it out of the window to Sir Lancelot it means her life is now his to do what he pleases. As with the mirror, when the mirror cracked it represented her chances of her hopes, dreams, and wishes are lost and never to come true. The curse that is put on The Lady of Shalott is their marriage.

In this exert from the poem The Lady of Shalott loses her life out on the river. //And down the river's dim expanse, / Like some bold seer in a trance / Seeing all his own mischance. . . She loosed the chain, and down she lay; / The broad stream bore her far away. . . Singing in her song she died, / The Lady of Shalott.(Lord Alfred Tennyson)//The diction of this exert is beautifully put together to reflect on the lives of women and their long stream of life. The Lady of Shalott riding down the river was to show her reflecting on her life only to find she never really had one to begin with. Her whole “life” was dictated from birth and it will be until death. Singing her song as she died inside and became numb, she was telling the story of women’s history. Hoping another women who is strong, and assertive could change our history in years to come. It is evident that men didn’t appreciate the minds, opinions, or the support from their wives and mistresses; but there was one thing they did.

At the end of The Lady of Shalott Sir Lancelot has heard the news of the death of The Lady of Shalott. //But Lancelot mused a little space;/ He said, "She has a lovely face;/God in his mercy lend her grace, (Lord Alfred Tennyson)// This shows how all through out history women were seen as a pretty piece of property that men can use to satisfy their lust and desires. What the men don’t realize is that without the love and support of their wives, and all the hard work and struggles, they might not be in the same position or of the same status. The men of 19th century have gotten their ideas and perceptions of women from their fathers before them. If they couldn’t see they were wrong maybe we women weren’t the dumb ones.