My Papa's Waltz: By: Theodore Roethke

My Papa's Waltz

The whiskey on your breath Could make a small boy dizzy; But I hung on like death: Such waltzing was not easy. We romped until the pans Slid from the kitchen shelf; My mother's countenance Could not unfrown itself. The hand that held my wrist Was battered on one knuckle; At every step you missed My right ear scraped a buckle. You beat time on my head With a palm caked hard by dirt, Then waltzed me off to bed Still clinging to your shirt            When I first read this poem, I had the idea that the author was trying to express the theme of child abuse through his poetry. I believed that the author purposely wrote this poem in a way that seemed calm, but had a darker story behind it that he wanted you to think more deeply about.            But after reading the poem again and again, I realized that the author was being literal about the, "Waltz". "The whiskey on your breath could make a small boy dizzy.", This whole time, I thought that the author was implying that, the father in the poem was drunk. But if you really think about it, there is no proof that the father is drunk.            "We romped until the pans slid from the kitchen shelf; My mother's countenance could not un-frown itself", This whole time, I thought that this meant that the father was still drunk and without realizing, he destroyed the kitchen.            I believe that this poem is basically just about a father and son, waltzing around the house. They are just playing around. The father is so clumsy that, he knocks down a bunch of pans accidently. although the father didn't mean to, the other probably was upset simply about the mess. The father isn't the best dancer which probably explains why he had missed so many steps while dancing. So, this poem could be about two things. A father and son, playfully waltzing around their home, or a drunk father who abuses his own son without realizing it.

Narrative Poem: Fashion Illustration

I sketched.
Non stop, my hand maneuvered
around the white sheet,
creating shapes, and
smooth contour lines.
I was in the zone.

It was almost like a dream,
so simple yet so complex.
I heard voices,
demanding my presence down stairs.
I ignored them all,
too busy to leave behind what I have already
accomplished.

The final touches.
It was divine.
It was complete.
I pin it up to the bare wall,
to watch it from a distance.
Another piece in my collection.

An Incident

The loud rays of the sun, softened.
I watched how to sky darkened,
from a sweet baby blue,
to a pure,
deep, dark blue.

The ocean was cold first.
I slowly entered the salty waters,
simply thinking about nothing.

I was alone.
I shut my eyes, ceasing to remember
things. I floated.
Still.

Distant from shore,
I tilted my head back to watch
the dimming sky.
I listened to waves, rushing back and forth.

My mind had became conscious,
I recollected me. I felt lost,
I was too far.

A sudden overwhelming fear,
took over me.
I had forgotten how to swim.
I fell beneath the ocean waters, feeling
the waves brushing
over me.

I kicked, and
kicked as water flowed into my mouth
and nose.
I was blind under deep blue ocean,
salt burned my eyes.

I felt my hands resting on the sand.
I was still living.
I opened my eyes to only darkness.
Turning back to the sea was almost
painful.

Incident: Poem

Eight, small
He
was no larger, in
size, or
shape,
or height

Even at youth,
Bold lessons are taught.
Not everyone will
delicately greet you,
and will be as
pleasant as
You are.

Poem On An Piece Of Art

She

Is anonymous.

Distant,

Silent,

Lost in a crowd.

She is like a boiling rock,

under the loud heat rays of the sun.

Strong,

Steady,

on the outside.

Insecure,

In hiding,

Inside.

What is she thinking right now?

People avoid her,

Or does she just avoid others herself.

She's so pale,

cold,

Where is she coming from?

The Starry Night

That does not keep me from having a terrible need of -- shall I say the word -- religion. Then
I go out at night to paint the stars.

--Vincent Van Gogh in a letter to his brother
By: Anne Sexton

The town does not exist
except where one black-haired tree slips
up like a drowned woman into the hot sky.
The town is silent. The night boils with eleven stars.
Oh starry starry night! This is how
I want to die.

It moves. They are all alive.
Even the moon bulges in its orange irons
to push children, like a god, from its eye.
The old unseen serpent swallows up the stars.
Oh starry starry night! This is how
I want to die:

into that rushing beast of the night,
sucked up by that great dragon, to split
from my life with no flag,
no belly,
no cry.




In 1889, Vincent Van Gogh painted,
“The Starry Night”, while in an asylum. The Starry night portrays a ray-less
scenery with eleven illuminating stars in the night sky. Van Gogh balanced his
painting with a combination of angry motions and serenity. While being in an
asylum, his feelings must have been conflicted. Confused with his own emotions,
he still imagined peacefulness and calmness in his mind.
Anne Sexton ingrains powerful
themes such as, life and death in her poem. It seems that she is drawn to Van
Gogh’s powerful sky, It is something that she consistently stresses in the
poem. “The night boils with eleven stars. Oh starry starry night! This is how I
want to die”. Here, The writer gives away the main image of the poem. Without
even seeing the actual painting, you can visualize the vibrant sky that Van
Gogh had painted. “It moves. They are all alive. Even the moon bulges its
orange irons to push children, like an god, from its eye”. Here, the writer
shows how she sees both the stars and the moons. She believes that the moon and
the stars in the painting are alive.
I noticed that the writer repeats
the line, “Oh starry night! This is how I want to die”. I believe that Anne
Sexton was trying to express her feelings toward death. The painting exposes a
beautiful scenery, and I think that Anne Sexton thought that taking place in
the painting and peacefully dieing there would bring her happiness. I am
convinced that Van Gogh felt the same exact way. While being in an asylum, he
probably wanted to be free. Painting was a way he could express his emotions.
While being trapped in a small room, he painted. He imagined a scene where
there were glowing stars in a deep blue sky. A bulging, yellow moon at the
corner of the sky, and a peaceful town at bottom. I think that Van Gogh dreamed
about being able to live like that. Vincent
Van Gogh and Anne Sexton both expressed their emotions through some sort of
art. Van Gogh used his paintings, and   Anne Sexton used her poetry. There are sure a lot of
ways to interpret this poem. But, what was Anne Sexton trying to convey in
her  poem? Is she trying to show that she wants to die? Or, is she trying to reveal her
feelings towards, "The Starry Night" to readers, and show how
beautiful the themes of painting are. 
This poem, and the painting by Van Gogh or both very similar, even
though one is literature   
and the other is a painting. Any work of art can be interpreted in many
ways.

What is Poetry?

Poetry is what defines your inner 

self,

an imaginative experience in the mind that can be

expressed

through 

music

love

friendship.

Poetry evokes a beautiful 

rhythm,

the nature of art and passion.

Poetry exposes the 

heart and the

shimmering light in hiding, beneath your skin.

Poetry brightens the dimmed corners of a room.

Poetry in unique.

Individuality.