A Poison Tree

I was angry with my friend:
I told my wrath, my wrath did end.
I was angry with my foe:
I told it not, my wrath did grow.
And I watered it in fears,
Night and morning with my tears;
And I sunnèd it with smiles,
And with soft deceitful wiles.
And it grew both day and night,
Till it bore an apple bright;
And my foe beheld it shine,
And he knew that it was mine,
And into my garden stole
When the night had veiled the pole:
In the morning glad I see
My foe outstretched beneath the tree.

I really think this poem relates to everyone. It's like when you get in a fight with a friend and you go to another friend or family member and rant and rave about why you are angry and eventually the steam runs out on the issue at hand, but on the other hand a person you don't like and don't plan on getting to know that you have an issue with could keep popping up. Maybe they have no idea that you like them, but then at the end of the poem it makes me think that the "foe" does know that the author doesn't like them, but they really don't care. I think that is the hardest thing. When a person knows you are so angry with them, but it never seems to cause them any grief and you are so upset and continue to get more and more upset about it.It seems like the more you think about the foe in your life, the madder you get and the more you find to rant and rave about. Your wrath grows and grows and it never gets let out and it never ends and finally in the end you realize your wrath means nothing to the foe and that fact may even make your wrath grow to a greater height. I really think this is a poem about real life and I really enjoy it the more I read it.

Many Red Devils

Many red devils ran from my heart
And out upon the page,
They were so tiny
The pen could mash them.
And many struggled in the ink.
It was strange
To write in this red muck
Of things from my heart.

I didn't really understand this poem until 

we analyzed it in class. Then I realized that

it is about the little things we do in life 

and little parts of ourselves go into it. 

They may go unnoticed for a while, but maybe 

while you reread a paper you realize all the 

little bits of your mood and yourself that have 

been added in. I like how the poem says the devils 

can be crushed by the pen, but he doesn't crush 

them. It is good to bring your life experiences 

and biases into some situations. You should make 

things that are a part of you because you are 

different and there is no person that can think 

the way you do and no two life experiences are the 

same. Maybe the part about the devils struggling 

is saying that the authors sometimes doesn't 

know how to put himself into the writing when 

he thinks that it should be there. These little 

parts of the author, creator, director, artist, or 

even reader can be so small. They could be the 

connections a reader makes to a part in the story, 

or a bit of a movie that the director changes 

because of a life experience they had. I think that

it is really interesting to look back at my writing

and see where all my life experience comes in and 

see where my opinions really shine even when I know 

that they shouldn't be there. I think he calls them

devils because perhaps he doesn't want them in the 

writing or they are very personal devils or faults

that he doesn't want to show in his writing. He says 

that it is very hard to write in all the "muck" and 

I think that maybe that could meant that the things he 

is letting out in his writing could be challenges in

his life or very hard things for him to talk about. 

Overall, after listening to the analysis in class I 

really think that I like this poem a lot more and it 

makes much more sense.  

This is just to say

I like this poem a lot because it is something that I think everyone is guilty of. You either take something, use something, wear something, or eat something that you know you probably shouldn't because the owner will be missing it at some point. It always seems like they don't need it forever and the point that you finally decide to take it or use it is when they realize that they want it too. It's almost that feeling of guilt, but then you realize how good it really was. Like the author saying, " they were delicious so sweet and so cold" means that he may be sorry that you are missing the sweet plums, but you should know that even though it wasn't you that enjoyed them, they were greatly enjoyed by someone. They brought great joy to someone even if they were supposed to bring joy to the owner. I think it is interesting how the author breaks up the stanzas. The first is just a statement with no indication of guilt and there seems to be nothing interesting happening. The second stanza is the authors admittance of guilt to taking the plums that were not his. The third stanza is sort of a reassurance to the previous owner of the plums that they were not taken and smashed or thrown away after a taste, but enjoyed by the author. I really liked this poem a lot. I think it is very interesting.