Beginner’s Attempt to Master Poetry 101

Poetry was never my strength when it came to literature. Whether it was analyzing a poem in my AP Literature class or attempting to write one, I always struggled and gave up on it. Even though poetry is a very expressive and inspiring tool to convey a person’s emotions or deliver ideas about a specific topic, I just could never master its art. What I’ve learned in my composition class managed to give me enough information about poetry, its different forms, and literary devices to help me find my way in poetry and know how to at least put my ideas out on paper. Now, even though I’m very far away from mastering this art, I feel like I have a new way of expressing myself.

While thinking about what I’m going to write about, I figured out that I’d only get something down if I think about a topic that I’m passionate about. The first poem I wrote was “Ode to Egypt”. I didn’t really struggle with it because when it comes to praising Egypt, I have so much to say. I thought that an Ode would be the best form I’d use since it is about exaggerated praise of a person, place, or item. When thinking about the rhyme scheme, I found that an Ode wasn’t strict about having a true rhyme, but the poet has the freedom to play around with the rhymes or not even have a rhyme. Throughout the poem, I used rhymes multiple times, but not religiously. I also focused on using a lot of imagery, metaphors, and descriptions to deliver how I feel about Egypt thoroughly. For example, I used the adjectives in “With its glorious Nile and victorious Palm Trees” (6) to give the Nile and Palm Trees human characteristics that show the pride I have in them. When describing my love for Egypt, I compared my heart to a “shimmering star” (7) that glows to portray the intense love I have for the country, where the glow of my heart when I’m there is visible and beautiful. I feel like I was able to share a huge part of me and my identity in this poem and putting my love into words made me realize my love even more.

The second poem I wrote was “America 2.0”. When I first read “America” by Claude Mckay, his description of how America “feeds [him] bread of bitterness” (1), yet he still “love[s] this cultured hell that tests [his] youth” (4) resonated with me because being an immigrant, I feel the same way. I came to the United States when I was 5 and I never really thought of myself as different or was treated differently. As I grew up, I realized that even though I wasn’t discriminated because of my religion or where I’m from, others were, including my parents. When I put the hijab on, that’s when I started noticing weird glances from certain people on the train or hear people mumbling something about me in the street. From then, I had promised myself that I would never give up on my making my family proud and proving myself to everyone around me. “I couldn’t look weak” (3) and I had to prove that “I’m not an alien” (8). “I couldn’t hate [America]” (1) because of her I was able to find myself and grow up with intellect and knowledge. Although I hate the hateful glances on the train, I still respect the land that took me in and gave me the opportunity to make something of myself.

The third poem I wrote was the found poem in response to Joyce A. Joyce’s “The Black Canon: Reconstructing Black American Literary Criticism”. I chose to do a found poem because I didn’t know it was a form of poetry and found it pretty unconventional and different. While reading the “The Black Canon”, I couldn’t help but feel inspired by the assertive tone of Joyce and how she demanded that Black writers and critics try their best to expose Black American literature. She necessitated that the Black critic is able to “find a point of merger between phenomenal nature of Black literature and aesthetic” and that the Black writer would continue using language to bind people together. I focused mostly on highlighting her demands because I think minorities aren’t given enough attention and space to express their talent and art to the majority. Because of political differences, racism, and discrimination, Black writers and others fron different underrepresented groups aren’t given the praise and respect they deserve. Therefore, it’s up to the writers and critics of those groups to step up and represent their culture and valuable literature.

When thinking about my fourth poem, I wanted to write about something that connected the African American experience to my personal experience as a Muslim American. I wanted to write about how I felt being part of one of the most disliked minorities in America. I named my poem “Epiphany” because I wanted to show a transition from what people see of me to how I’ve come to know myself. I talk mostly about how the discrimination my people face makes me feel such as “Paining my confidence, murdering my pride” (4) which portrays how the hatred we as Muslims receive affect our personal life and our future. I also wanted to include the idea of epiphany in it by including a moment when I realized that none of this hatred is irrelevant when I said “Actually, none of this matters” (6) to portray that the hatred doesn’t actually put me down, but gives me motivation to become better. The reason I chose to make it an acrostic poem is because I wanted a simple poetic form that everyone knows to hold a topic with great weight and importance in the American society. 

For my final poem, I didn’t really know what to write about, until I saw the word Omelas which really caught my attention. I searched it up and found out that it comes from the book “The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas” by Ursula K. Le Guin and it really caught my attention. I found out that Omelas represents a utopian society where all it’s residents are happy but at the expense of the suffering of one child. This resonated with me because that made me think about morality and what I would do if I was put in the people of Omelas’ position, whether I’d choose to remain in Omelas and let the child suffer, or I’d walk away from it. I chose to write it from the child’s perspective because I found the opportunity to use Pathos by expressing the intense emotions of sadness that the child felt such as questioning society’s morality by saying “How is this fair,/ When my heart is filled with despair?” (7-8) and continues by asking “How is this fair,/ When I’m always in pain?” (9-10). He doesn’t understand why he is the only one that has to suffer while everyone else is happy. This shows us how questionable the morality of society is and is also reflected on how we live nowadays. Everyone doesn’t mind stepping on another person if it means that they will succeed or be happy. The poem ends with “ But I still can’t help but hope/ That one day,/ I’ll escape.” (19-21) which brings back the idea of the American Dream and that regardless of all the suffering America puts us in, we still have hope in escaping this torment and being successful ourselves.

Even though I thought the creative process of this project was pretty heard, I can’t deny that I enjoyed it. The challenge I faced while I tried writing poems from scratch made me realize that I have so many thoughts in my mind. I discovered that writing those thoughts down and giving them extra thoughts makes more room for creativity in one’s mind. The knowledge I’ve come out with from this project will definitely stick with me forever. 

 

 

 

Ode to Egypt

Golden rays glistening in my eyes,

Feelings of pride rushing through my veins.

Are you Egyptian? Yes, I am.

Daughter of Pharaohs, inherent of their reigns.

When I’m there, all I feel is peace,

With its glorious Nile and victorious Palm Trees.

Like a shimmering star, my heart glows, 

And everyday, my passion grows.

No love can top this love,

No hardship can break this bond,

Egypt is my safe haven,

Whenever it calls me, I will always respond.

 

 

 

America 2.0: Response to “America” by Claude Mckay

I couldn’t hate her

Could not forget what she’s done

I couldn’t look weak

I had to be strong

Show her that I am worthy

Worthy of her love

Worthy of respect

That I’m not an alien

That I’m one of you.

Claude McKay, “America” from Liberator (December 1921). Courtesy of the Literary Representative for the Works of Claude McKay, Schombourg Center for Research in Black Culture, The New York Public Library, Astor, Lenox and Tildeen Foundations.

 

 

 

The Black Critic’s Obligation

 

The Black creative writer has continuously struggled to assert his or her real self and to establish a connection between the self and the people outside that self. The Black creative writer understands that it is not yet time-and it might not ever be possible-for a people with hundreds of years of disenfranchisement and who since slavery have venerated the intellect and the written word to view language as merely a system of codes or as mere play. Language has been an essential medium for the evolution of Black pride and the dissolution of the double consciousness.

Since the Black creative writer has always used language as a means of communication to bind people together, the job of the black literary critic should be to find a point of merger between the communal, utilitarian, phenomenal nature of Black literature and the aesthetic or linguistic-if you will- analyses that illuminate versality” of a literary text. Rather than being a “linguistic event” or a complex network of linguistic systems that embody the union of the signified and the signifier independent of phenomenal reality, Black creative art is an act of love which attempts to destroy estrangement and elitism by demonstrating a strong fondness or enthusiasm freedom and an affectionate concern for the lives of people, especially Black people.

 Black creative art addresses the benevolence, kindness, and brotherhood that men should feel toward each other. Just as language has no function without man, the Black literary critic is free to go beyond the bonds of the creative writer. For we have many thoughts that we have yet no words for, particularly those thoughts that remain in an inchoate state. It should be the job of the Black literary critic to force ideas to the surface, to give them force in order to affect, to guide, to animate, and to arouse the minds and emotions of Black people.

 

The Black Canon: Reconstructing Black American Literary Criticism

Author(s): Joyce A. Joyce

Source: New Literary History, Vol. 18, No. 2, Literacy, Popular Culture, and the Writing of History (Winter, 1987), pp. 335-344

Published by: The Johns Hopkins University Press

 

 

 

EPIPHANY

Every eye looking at me, judging my every move

Pressuring me to conform, forget who I am

Identity of mine ridiculed, informing me that I don’t belong

Paining my confidence, murdering my pride

Hating my roots, loathing my beliefs

Actually, none of this matters

Never will your hate force me to neglect my essence

You will never tell me who I should be.

 

 

 

Omelas

My suffering has no value

My happiness isn’t important

“I will be good”, I say

But to no avail, my pleas are ignored.

They sacrifice my happiness and feed on my pain

For the majority’s contentment I’m anguished.

How is this fair, 

When my heart is filled with hurt and despair?

How is this fair,

When I’m always in pain?

They say Omelas promises eternal joy

But where is my share of this euphoria?

No matter the tears I shed,

The cries I cry, 

They look and listen,

But are they actually listening?

I’ve accepted that this is what I’m destined for.

Everlasting suffering and endless torment.

But I still can’t help but hope

That one day, 

I’ll escape.