Khari+ali+Evans-McGraw+Aka+(Peachew)

I say drop a mouse into a poem and watch him probe his way out, Billy Collins

I want you to fail why? so you can grow Your hurt is my happy for you will grow don't go on hating my work I'm building you up so you can do for me

music is cool when we play games I like music when I work You like music when sleep You don't remember sound yet still need the music

I hate to say long things with you lets play what is the matter with you to day my friend would you come out to play with me my friend would you not like to play a game with me what is the game that we both like my friend Tuesday is not over yer until one hour I feel that more can be done in this time something fun to wet the appetites of youth how about a game of tag no that silly watch the youtube until the wee hours a game of chess might kill the clock shall we no your eye is on other matters I see is that a bmark in thy hand i see Would you like help my friend with it today This game i press shall have to wait some more

Ode to star trek

The TV turning on to the sound to snare drums

The title screen comes on

I’m happy

The date gives the setting

The storyline picks up with the sound of dyeing red shirts

All is chaos until the women is found

Now it’s an uphill battle until the elf finds a fix

As the eternal pessimist goes on trying to stop him

The crew does noting but wait for their return to the planet

They pickup the pace to find the place that will end their search

Their search is over but a trap was sprung in its place

Back on the ship all is well the mission is done

the sound of snare drums send me off

I was rasied by sound The morales of a question The sight of a people The blur of a window The river of the mind The point of a word The color of a pixel The taste of blood The warmth of the sun The smell of paper I was rasied by life

When I write, I try to use words to see. My main hope is to write something that will bring to mind pictures and ideas. It does not have to deep, just a picture. I have always wondered what sparks ideas I find pictures to be this. So my words word are my paintbrush. The Words I use have unique meaning so I can write as little as possible.

A Red Palm
You're in this dream of cotton plants.

You raise a hoe, swing, and the first weeds

Fall with a sigh. You take another step,

Chop, and the sigh comes again,

Until you yourself are breathing that way

With each step, a sigh that will follow you into town.

That's hours later. The sun is a red blister

Coming up in your palm. Your back is strong,

Young, not yet the broken chair

In an abandoned school of dry spiders.

Dust settles on your forehead, dirt

Smiles under each fingernail.

You chop, step, and by the end of the first row,

You can buy one splendid fish for wife

And three sons. Another row, another fish,

Until you have enough and move on to milk,

Bread, meat. Ten hours and the cupboards creak.

You can rest in the back yard under a tree.

Your hands twitch on your lap,

Not unlike the fish on a pier or the bottom

Of a boat. You drink iced tea. The minutes jerk

Like flies.

It's dusk, now night,

And the lights in your home are on.

That costs money, yellow light

In the kitchen. That's thirty steps,

You say to your hands,

Now shaped into binoculars.

You could raise them to your eyes:

You were a fool in school, now look at you.

You're a giant among cotton plants.

Now you see your oldest boy, also running.

Papa, he says, it's time to come in.

You pull him into your lap

And ask, What's forty times nine?

He knows as well as you, and you smile.

The wind makes peace with the trees,

The stars strike themselves in the dark.

You get up and walk with the sigh of cotton plants.

You go to sleep with a red sun on your palm,

The sore light you see when you first stir in bed. Gary Soto

The poem addresses a farmer who is trying to support his family. The central topic is the cost of life in relation the work needed to meet it. The poem shows this by adding a cost to every thing this farmer does “chop, step, and by the end of the first row, You can buy one splendid fish for wife And three sons.” The storytelling is very indifferent and although the title seems to tell of hardship, the man seems happy. The poem uses a lot of enjambments and all line are about the same length. The main image I get is a man working in a flied and think how much he gets out of his work. P.S. I did math 9*40=360

Mission Tire Factory, 1969
All through lunch Peter pinched at his crotch,

And Jesús talked about his tattoos,

And I let the flies crawl my arm, undisturbed,

Thinking it was wrong, a buck sixty five,

The wash of rubber in our lungs,

The oven we would enter, squinting

---because earlier in the day Manny fell

From his machine, and when we carried him

To the workshed (blood from

Under his shirt, in his pants)

All he could manage, in an ignorance

Outdone only by pain, was to take three dollars

From his wallet, and say:

"Buy some sandwiches.You guys saved my life." Gary Soto

The poem “Mission Tire Factory” takes off at a breathless pace. The shortness of each line makes the reader want to speed thought it. Many of “Mission Tire Factory” lines need a reading of the next line in order to understand the complete thought. The shortness also gives the feeling of not being told everything yet knowing enough to make guesses. The person who is “speaking” tells the story of a man, Manny, who “fell from his machine” which speaks to the size and power of this object from which one could fall. Also “his machine” shows that this person might be important to have his own machine. The shortness of the lines also speaks to the magnitude this event had on the speaker. There also is a sense of guilt in the wording which is confirmed in the third line, “Thinking it was wrong, a buck sixty five”. The man Manny seems to see the event in a different light, however. "Buy some sandwiches. You guys saved my life." Overall this poem’s pacing and story leaves the reader guessing.

Saturday At The Canal
I was hoping to be happy by seventeen.

School was a sharp check mark in the roll book,

An obnoxious tuba playing at noon because our team

Was going to win at night. The teachers were

Too close to dying to understand. The hallways

Stank of poor grades and unwashed hair. Thus,

A friend and I sat watching the water on Saturday,

Neither of us talking much, just warming ourselves

By hurling large rocks at the dusty ground

And feeling awful because San Francisco was a postcard

On a bedroom wall. We wanted to go there,

Hitchhike under the last migrating birds

And be with people who knew more than three chords

On a guitar. We didn't drink or smoke,

But our hair was shoulder length, wild when

The wind picked up and the shadows of

This loneliness gripped loose dirt. By bus or car,

By the sway of train over a long bridge,

We wanted to get out. The years froze

As we sat on the bank. Our eyes followed the water,

White-tipped but dark underneath, racing out of town. Gary Soto

The poem addresses a person who is about to graduate college. The central subject is looking at a canal’s water. The tone of the poem is to make the situation to be melancholy, and make the reader try to see what is the person is thinking about. The water hints at trouble “White-tipped but dark underneath” this add to the “racing out of town” make it seem that the person is about to leave this home to go to school or to start his adult life. This poem is very formal but some lines have an informal sound when the person is thinking. The poem has a lot of enjambments that keep the reader on task. The image I get from this poem over all is a teen going on into his adult life and is worried about the future.