Highland Park

The deer emerge from the woods only for

A second before a car passes, scaring them back.

A raccoon tries to squeeze into the sewer, 

his eyes highlighted by a dark mask.

The silver maple towers over the house,

Providing a canopy, that will soon be lost in fall. 

Squirrel's hidden homes become public, as animals 

Begin to settle in for a winter that could spring at any time.

On the edge of St. Paul, Highland is my home.

Time is Peace

The chair wrapped around me and gave me time,
The noise of the lounge began to fade away,
I had reached a place of peace and now I'm
Not afraid to take the next step and say.

Every day is new with things to learn,
From class to class we move and shape our minds,
I sit in my house and attempt to burn,
The new information we seek to find.

I love my life because it is all mine,
the environment I'm in lets me shine

Sutphen Response

Of all Joyce Sutphen's poems, I enjoyed "How to Listen" the most. I feel it applies to my life at school and how I interpret the world around me. Her line, "Don't attempt to copy anything down. Don't bring a camera or a recorder”. A literal example of this is at music concerts when everyone in the front row is filming the concert that is taking place in front of them. I'd think that people would enjoy the concert more if they actually watched and enjoyed the show they paid for. This applies to life and enjoying what’s in front of you. The next line I enjoyed was, “make no comparisons”. This is saying that although we learn from our past experiences we need to go into new situations with an open mind.

In the reading about voice and style, I thought it was interesting how a poem can be broken down and directly related back to the author. What ethnicity is the poet, are their poems long or short. Also what structure are their poems written in. Although I wouldn't want myself to be forced into writing a poem a certain way, it's interesting how everyone has a style that they continually go back to. Something they are comfortable with. It would be cool at the end of the semester to have anonymous poems up on the board and see if  the class could agree and identify the poet.

Free to Leave

I sat in the front seat

With my parents in back,

Continually asking

Questions about the car.

“Yeah, I like the car”

“Yeah, it’s nice”

“Yeah, it’s comfortable”

“Yeah, it’s the one”

I sat outside the door

As my dad finished the deal inside

I had a car now

I was free to leave