Interpretative Paragraph -- "Harlem" by Langston Hughes

What's the effect of the food imagery?

The use of food imagery in the Langston Hughes poem Harlem, adds a visceral effect that reinforces his description expired dreams. The poem opens with the line “what Happens to a dream deferred?'(1). This establish that the rest of the poem will address that question in some way. Lines like "like a raisin in the sun"(3), "stink like rotten meat"(6), and "crust and sugar over---"(7) use imagery of various food items to exploit the fact that most food reactions are extremely strong in people's minds. This occurs because of humans automatic relation of disgust with rotten, expired, or unwanted foods. When Hughes relates the expiration of dreams with the expiration of food, the imagery of rotten meat and crusty sweets becomes a powerful poetic tool. The disgust created by this tool is used by Langston Hughes to add a deep-wired response of disgust with expired dreams.

Theme For English B -- Analysis

I loved all of my group members poems. They communicated unique stories and ideas within one distinct format. I was very surprised to find out Leanne started with the same first line. We ended up in very different positions at the end of our poems. I ended with a dispute of the weight of ideas formed by adults and kids. Leanne ended by establishing that adults effect kids and vice versa even though adults have more power and freedom. I was also struck by how deep and thoughtful people's poems where. I think the blog system is allowing people to feel more comfortable with their writing, it definitely helps me. All in all I learned a lot about my classmates and poetry through this project. I realized the structure of a poem does not necessarily equate to its personality. That simply by applying their personal experiences to a known structure, my classmates created moving and creative works.

Theme For English B

The instructor said,

Go home and write

a page tonight.

And let that page come out of you-
Then, it will be true.

I wonder how it could be true?

I am seventeen, white, born in Seattle, Washington.

I moved here early, and stayed, then

a few years in private school, a few in public.

Now, I am a blissfully lost student at a  new school

I walk past others, friends, teachers, kids.

In a vehicle, and an hour home

to the farm stand, a halfway point

but not really, almost home

Tired, reluctant to write this

In my world, they shouldn't care if its true

Sometimes, it feels true, other times false

Its relative, dynamic, Port Townsend I know you're not true

The wet streets, faced buildings, repainted homes.

City sounds. We talk on this page.

Well I like to listen, almost as much as I like to talk.

I like to criticize, and empathize

and try and just exist.

be myself, and someone else.

I guess being young doesn't make me a liar

Many things older's say hold less than that of the youth

Being younger, will you see me as a lie?

Disregard my words,

Do you feel true?

if so how, and why.

I can't lie, for I am me

Sometimes perhaps you don't want to believe it.

Nor will I

We all lie, we must, for lies are truth!