Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I’ve tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.

Fire and Ice by Robert Frost

This poem fulfills the poem from an author we've studied.  I chose it because it seemed interesting talking about Fire and Ice and the end of the world.  When I was looking for a poem and read this poem I read about how people think about how it will end.  The fact is true that Robert Frost felt as though either way Fire or Ice the results are the same certain end.

Still I Rise by Maya Angelou

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don’t you take it awful hard
‘Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
Diggin’ in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history’s shame
I rise
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I rise
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.

This poem fits the category of a poem we haven't read in class. I chose this poem because Maya Angelou was a famous poet.  She just recently died. I chose the poem because it is positive.  Tells us that even in the mist of hard times we all must rise out of it.

Fishing Reasons by Edgar Albert Guest

Fish can be bought in the market place,
So it isn't the fish I'm after.
I want to get free from the care-drawn face
And back to an honest laughter,
I want to get out where the skies are clean
And rest by a river's brink,
I want to get out where the woods are green
And I want a few hours to think.
Oh, it isn't the fish I am greedy for,
It's the chatter and song of birds,
And the talk of trees that I've known before.
I am weary of selfish words.
I want to stretch out, just my soul and I,
In a place from the strife afar,
And let a few care-filled hours pass by
As I think of the things that are.
Oh, it isn't the fish that I go to get,
Though there's joy in a swishing line
And a splendid thrill when my grip I set
And a small mouthed bass is mine!
But my soul seems cramped in the stifling air
That is heavy with talk of gain
And I want to get out where the world is fair
And there isn't so much of pain.
Fish can be bought in the market place
But I long for the running streams,
And I want to be free from the care-drawn face
And the city of dreadful dreams.
I want to stretch out, just my soul and I
On a sun-kissed river shore,
And be, as a few mad hours rush by,
The man that I am, once more.

This poem fulfills the poem about something we are passionate about.  I chose it because I love fishing.  I like that it tells a reason for my fishing.  I don't go for the fish I go to to forget all that is going on around me.  I go because it is a place

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