Reading Response: Annie John

Annie John by Jamaica Kincaid is an extraordinary book that i would recommend to any of those who enjoy reading stories about coming of age,especially for people who are having troubles with their sexuality.

 Though growing up is difficult and all pre-teens & teens change with the years, (mentally and physically)  our feelings for our families differ. Though,  they are only temporary. This also appears in the text ; as Annie John grows older her feelings for women start to develop differently, though i believe these [had] feelings started with her mother.

In the second chapter of Annie John all Jamaica Kincaid writes about is how much Annie loves her mother, she talks about how she goes to the market with her mother or how she cooks with her mother, and even about how she bathes with her mother.It is very apparent that Annie John loves her mother very ,very much.
Gradually though, after she starts going to a new school Annie starts to dislike her mother because of sudden "coming of age" restrictions. Like learning what a lady is supposed to do with company, how to play the piano, how to wash dishes, or how to fold clothes.The older she grows the more tense things become at home with her mother.
This is around the time when she discovers a girl named Gwen; Annie and Gwen have fallen in love and are considered the "Love Doves" of the school. Annie thinks that her mother won't approve so she goes ahead and begins a serious relationship with Gwen (Or at least as serious as it can get between to teenage girls.)
I thought this was really interesting, when you read you know Annie actually loves Gwen but, only starts to have interest in her because her mother would disapprove.  So you really see the feelings for her mom are definitely going downhill.

Annie's mother is a strict, down to earth, woman who has many future plans to help Annie start her own healthy family, but i don't think she ever foresaw that Annie would grow the will to do such shameful things.
Her surprise started when she found out that Annie John played marbles. Her anger towards Annie John was very intense, BUT Annie took this anger and thought it was because she had been doing something shameful but, i think Annie's mom was upset because Annie lied to her about not having marbles and lied in a different form to her mother because she was being dishonest and was stealing. I actually really feel bad for Annie' s mom to lose your child bad influences must be a horrible thing.

I do believe that Annie has started to hate her mother but there are instances when her mother [Annie's] and Annie show they do love each other. Its very hard to find those instances but, when Annie thinks of her mother all she sees is "the soft and beautiful nape of her neck, and her mothers soft hair piled on top of her head, and her delicate hands  working the figs into her most favorite desert."  so obviously there are still feelings. 

Annie and her mothers relationship is a very complicated delicate thing that takes a lot of time and concentration but, in conclusion I really think that aging really has an effect on how Annie John views her family members but she loves them all the same in the end.
-Raindrop

Prompt # 15

Somethings that change "inside" a person is/are their dreams. When you're little you dream about fairy tales and Prince Charming' but, now we more or less dream about what we'll do in the future, things that are haunting  us, appointments at the doctor or as a matter of fact we just don't dream about anything. The things i dream about now often involve pain. I remembered this one on the night i broke my finger:

Rushing down the hill with the slushy snow wetting my back.
I held to his waist as we catapult down the hill on his dark pink sled.
I remember laughing, wiping away the tears that dripped from my face because of our speed. 
I kept shouting FASTER FASTER! 
The thrill was to die for.
Then the night froze and the sky flashed from blue to gray as you stopped laughing but, started to scream.


I remember swerving, the sides started to shatter and melt away in the wind.
I heard your scream as i fell off the sled, rolling faster and faster down the hill.


Waking up to the scrunch of your boots as you flipped me over and whispered my name.
Lifting me on your already bruised back while holding the residues of our broken sled, 
And each time you stepped i remember feeling both our pain. 
It was killing you and me, you face turn black as we walked farther and farther away from the hill. 


Coming Back 
A cast on my foot and a bruise running all the way up and down my leg.
You sitting next to me your injuries gone,
Humming to me the song we sang together before we went to sleep.


Sitting up and holding your waist like i had on the sled.
Weeping because i still remembered it all, and all the pain wasn't even in my legs in was in my one finger.
You crying and over and over saying "Im so sorry" 
 I cried "I forgive you" 
But you never heard.

Waking up from this was the worst experience in my life not only did my finger hurt like crazy but, the person i was holding on to... i couldn't remember his face. I only really remembered was that i loved him very much and that the real person who was on the sled with me, i didn't care  for at all. So, to sum it up i was dreaming about the possibility in the future that i might love someone so much that i started crying for them in a dream.

Prompt # 16

As you handed her to me I was lost for words, her warm white and gray fur pressed against my cheek and her soft sleek noise rubbing itself against my face.
I giggled as it left a cool, wet mark.
I held her closer and whispered "I love you." into her little furry ears.
You laughed as I held her above my head and twirled around the room, I matched my voice to hers as we purred  simultaneously. The "R" 's running up and down my throat. "I love you kitty"
I held her like a baby and scratched behind her ears, i kissed her light pink pads.

My lilac dress fluttered aimlessly around my waist, as my treasure and i shared our special dance
Her small  warm body left an imprint on my dress, where my petite pink ribbon had once been were small claw marks that had teared it away.

I pried the strips of fabric away from her mouth and she closed her tiny teeth around my finger. My eyes teared up but, i kept pulling the string.
She was not going to be in danger of choking.
No, no danger allowed near her.
"I love you Coco" My sweet little kitten

Walking down 4th street I open the door to my dads office, I can already hear her paws scrabbling up the stairs. She rubs her plump body against my legs and begins to purr.
I rub my hand along her back, she mews and bats my face with her tail.
She runs down the stairs in front of me and leaps on my foot as I touch the last step.

She's getting ready to take care of her own children now, hopefully she'll mature faster than i will, i don't think I'm quite ready to hang up my little lilac dress...
Just Yet. 

Response to "Graceling" By Kristi Cashore

This reading response is about the book Graceling  By Kristi Cashore. In general I thought that personally the book was great! The fantastical visions of Evil Kings, an unwanted love, and a red herring for a hero, makes this book one of my ultimate favorites.  Kristi Cashore starts off Graceling, already in action, no time for the whole "life story" simply: 

In these dungeons the darkness was complete, but Katsa had a map in her mind. 

 So already our Main Character has found herself in a dark dungeon, who wouldn't be into that?

An important observation to support why I believe this book has a more passionate love and a fantastical genre relief after the epic failing plunge of Twilight is, Twilight by Stephanie Meyer had its romantic scenes and its glorious settings, but the passion in Graceling is true, Kristi Cashore was able to create an unstable, headstrong,and intelligent girl and have her fall in love with out turning her into a reckless, brain of mush, ninny who basically had no idea of what she was dealing with. Katsa our main character and her lover Po remain equally balanced so that Po is in fact not the only one in shinning armor.  Edward from Twilight always had to defend Bella because she was a fragile human, Katsa actually has more power than Po coming from her Killing Grace*.  "And took her breathe and her pain and her mind away from her body, so that there was nothing but her body and his body and the light and the fire they made together."   this quote is used in terms of separating the "END OF CHAPTER" from Stephanie Meyer to the passionate love that fills the pages of Graceling with wonder and excitement.  
 *A grace is a special gift or talent that one is born with, it can either be completely useless or it can be admiringly serviceable like one could be born with a grace for killing, or a grace for gutting fish. But you know you have a Grace when your eyes are of two different colors, for instance one black and one sky blue.


I think that Graceling made a much more filling and respectful book than Twilight because the people surrounding we so much less... pinning for attention, Charlie from Twilight NOT IMPORTANT, though for the brief pages of the end Princess Bitterblue makes it so easy to believe that its only Po and Katsa there in the story. Though Bitterblue does let us know she's there. 
Bitterblue is one of my favorite characters because she's quiet but so willing to learn that it's admirable....


This text does relate to me because like Katsa I'm as unsure as Katsa, though if pushed to far or treated as a servant or thug we'd both separate from whatever group we were in. This text also relates to the world because it shows that no matter how powerful or influential you are you'd still use your family to gain more power. (Yassar Arafat's Wife.)  I really enjoyed this book and hope that the readers who read it as well have an open mind for change and don't hold grudges. 




-Raindrop

Incident Poem

Incident

Once riding in old Baltimore,

Heart-filled, head-filled with glee;

I saw a Baltimorean

Keep looking straight at me.

Now I was eight and very small,

And he was no whit bigger,

And so I smiled, but he poked out

His tongue, and called me, "Nigger."

I saw the whole of Balimore

From May until December;

Of all the things that happened there

That's all that I remember.

Countée Cullen

                                                            Response

When I started reading this poem, the first two lines made me think of a confederate soldier, why? It could be that I have gotten use to reading sentences like “driving through” “going through” “on the train to” -but never - Once riding in old Baltimore that conjured in my mind, a man on a horse. I was very surprised when I read the second stanza; I realize that this was the poet, speaking and remembering through the eyes of a child. The words made me feel small and sad.  The third Stanza made me ready to cry for the child that experienced such cruelty from another child who was taught that his behavior was normal.

In response to this poem in a more modern fashion I was greatly angered at the idea that such behavior was used against an innocent brown skinned child. A couple years ago I saw a news report were surrounding a coffin were several African American Women and Men; they were burying the word “Nigger” and hoped that once and for all this word would never be used for harm again. I know that many teens my age use this word as a greeting or nickname and they don’t mean it in an offensive way, but to use this word is still a disrespect and I hope that we can all refrain from using it.  

Incident by Countee Cullen is a very important poem because it shows us that there are still some people out there who’s minds aren’t “Colored-Skin” friendly and it sends us a warning to say, if you do meet someone who has been hurt by racism don’t try to imagine the pain they go through in remembering the word but offer them a smile instead of a harsh unnecessary word. 

Sonnet (Summer)

Sun kissed drops slide through my window by day
Nights Iridescent breathe becomes a fog
Waking up to Misty water drizzles
The first glimpse of Summer  becomes a truth
With eyes of a Summer Queen the sun stirs
The true form of Summer has arrived here
The queens hair flows like a rippling pond
And her her smile offends the light moon
The King of Winter now at her mercy
and bows as he regards her strength and grace
Though for centuries they have fought she wins
Not gloating in victory but a mute truce
The Winter King extends his chivalry
As he and his now consort walk as one.

 

Hide and Go Seek

Smaller than a Dormouse
You can't lock me in a cage
I can get out really easy
and escape into the maze

No more jurisdictions
No more love to share
You and me are over.
Leave me i don't care

You were gone out of my window
Nothing left
not a hair
You left me standing
On a hill
Somewhere oh Somewhere

In my dreams you stalk me taunting me with your smile
And every time i see you
I get smaller
like a child

The gypsies come and go
but you will never stay
The love we shared before

Has finally peeled away

But again every time i see you
I still feel the same

I love you please come back
i don't like this game

Martin Luther King JR. I have a Dream Revised by Raindrop

A Great American in whose symbolic shadow we stand
Came as a great beacon of light seared in the flames of withering injustice
Came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of captivity
to which every American would fall heir


Now is the time to Rise Up from the dark and desolate
valley to the sunlight path of racial justice
the time to lift our nation from quicksand of
injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood
The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake
the foundation of our nation and the sweltering summer
will not pass until there is an invigorating Autumn of Freedom And equality guaranteed to the unalienable rights of Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness.
Midst of a vast Ocean of material prosperity
in the process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds.
Conduct our struggle on the high plane of discipline & dignity.
Their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom
Their destiny is tied to our destiny
Let us not need to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness & hatred

We will never be satisfied as long as the victim of unspeakable horrors is satisfied
We will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like water
And righteousness like a mighty stream
And is transformed into an oasis of freedom

Veterans of creative suffering, let us no wallow in the valley of despair.
I still have a dream it is a dream deeply rooted in the dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out
The meaning of it's creed.

"I have a Dream"

My Poetry response to Starry Night

                                                My Thoughts

Looking at Van Gogh’s “Starry Night,” Anne Sexton wrote ‘The town does not exit…” Van Gogh painted a town on a starry night. The town does exist but the poet, who later killed herself suffered from maniac depressive syndrome. It seems to me that seeing the bushes as a drowned woman was really about how sad and depressed the poet felt about herself.

 On the one hand she is feeling good about the starry night because the painting is so alive to her, but on the other she thinks the stars “boil.”  Although she feels that the town does not exist, she obviously feels it’s calm. The calmness of this town which couldn’t possibly exist for the author; which is perhaps what she longed to be; calm and non-existent

If I wanted to describe Van Gogh’s starry night, I would see the quite homes under a starlit sky.  In this painting I also see a big golden moon in this eternal night. When I look at the painting I also see a church steeple, full of swirling clouds. It seems to represent hope and spirituality. When I read this poem, I believe that the poet felt despair from looking at the starry night. Perhaps she felt despair because she could not feel the stillness of the starry night.

The Accident

           My Love

Spiraling up my body
Like a sly fox sending currants through
Without any warning
The pain shattered through my aura of tough

Not physical

just heart break

leaning down to me smirking
Whispering back-biting  gossip
Burning my ears
And then like a broken down house
i leaned forward and cried

Tears filling my eyes
like the Ocean at its high tide

Never again would i leave my affection to anyone.

Not a Fox who would kill for me
Not a Bird who could set me free with the flight of its gentle wings

Poem Response to Vincent

                        

Mama's House

Graffiti and jailed windows

Keeping you safe and keeping you out at the same time

The heat of a hot sun blaring on your back

Cracked sidewalks

Red doors painted with blood

My Brothers disappear

one by one

My windows are closed

Mama's windows are closed

Baby doesn't have a window yet

Staring into oblivion

Down a BLACK corridor

Paintings of strange man on my house

Here is Cuba