<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-635416899395019194</id><updated>2011-04-21T12:58:37.872-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Poetry Unit</title><subtitle type='html'>An Undiscovered Poet</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://uniz-poetryunit.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/635416899395019194/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://uniz-poetryunit.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Eunice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15670008989218795601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>10</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-635416899395019194.post-5162598287149800465</id><published>2007-02-22T18:32:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-22T18:32:49.594-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Journal #4</title><content type='html'>The Triple Fool                                                                              &lt;br /&gt;By John Donne&lt;br /&gt;Comparative Critic&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;S: A broken hearted man&lt;br /&gt;O: After being denied&lt;br /&gt;A: The one he loves&lt;br /&gt;P: To express how he feels stupid for ever liking her&lt;br /&gt;S: Foolishness&lt;br /&gt;Tone: Regretful, Resentful, Offended&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reflection: In John Donne’s poem he proposes an idea that is an allegory because once you read his poem several times you get the sense that he is trying to convey a deeper meaning of what he wrote. After reading his poem a couple times I got the idea that he was trying to say that he was a fool because he loved someone but was another fool because he said he loved her and then made himself a third fool because he created a “whining” poem which expressed how he felt. Donne also creates an iambic rhythm that kind of sounds like a song and connects to his line, “but not of such as pleases when ‘tis read/both are increased by such songs” (18-19). To me Donne kind of implies that love and grief are like a song while love can be heard as something pretty, people don’t see the grief that it may bring. Like his character feeling foolish for being denied. There is also some consonance like in line two loving and saying. I compared this poem to John Donne’s “The Computation,” poem because I felt like they both had a very good sense of an allegory like trying to say something in a meaningful way. In the computation I got the feeling that Donne was trying to say that you never know what you have until what you have is gone. And in “The Triple Fool” poem, Donne reflects how love seems to be something so nice but when one really thinks about it, love is pain. So it is like he says one thing but actually means another. I also like the fact that he has some sort of iambic rhythm in both poems it makes the words he chose flow much better even though they do not rhyme or even if they are half rhymes&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/635416899395019194-5162598287149800465?l=uniz-poetryunit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://uniz-poetryunit.blogspot.com/feeds/5162598287149800465/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=635416899395019194&amp;postID=5162598287149800465' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/635416899395019194/posts/default/5162598287149800465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/635416899395019194/posts/default/5162598287149800465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://uniz-poetryunit.blogspot.com/2007/02/journal-4.html' title='Journal #4'/><author><name>Eunice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15670008989218795601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-635416899395019194.post-132709491834873866</id><published>2007-02-16T12:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-16T12:30:17.740-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Journal #3</title><content type='html'>I love you much (most beautiful darling)&lt;br /&gt;By E.E. Cummings&lt;br /&gt;Literary Critic&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;S: A man who is in love&lt;br /&gt;O: When he is thinking about his loved one&lt;br /&gt;A: His “beautiful darling”&lt;br /&gt;P:  To express how she is everything to him&lt;br /&gt;S:  Love&lt;br /&gt;Tone:  Romantic&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had to read this poem over so many times in order to grasps what E.E. Cummings was saying or to see how he made the speaker compare his love towards someone that he really loved. At fist the author goes on to say that he loves his “most beautiful darling,” than anything on the earth and the sky, and then he seems to go on to compare his lives to winter. I think Cummings does a good job in getting his idea across because he uses certain words that give more emphasis to the poem. The way he structures his poem also makes me feel like the author is getting his point across but the words in parenthesis are thoughts in his own head. As if he didn’t want his true feelings to show even though his feelings are strong. &lt;br /&gt;Cummings uses some rhyme like in line four the words “singing” and “coming” and he also uses consonance in lines six through seven with the words silence, darkness, and guess, because they all have the “ss” sound. It was also interesting to see how Cumming’s included, (most beautiful darling) at the very beginning and near the end of his poem.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/635416899395019194-132709491834873866?l=uniz-poetryunit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://uniz-poetryunit.blogspot.com/feeds/132709491834873866/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=635416899395019194&amp;postID=132709491834873866' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/635416899395019194/posts/default/132709491834873866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/635416899395019194/posts/default/132709491834873866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://uniz-poetryunit.blogspot.com/2007/02/journal-3_16.html' title='Journal #3'/><author><name>Eunice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15670008989218795601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-635416899395019194.post-7024575608909687624</id><published>2007-02-16T12:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-16T12:10:44.896-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Journal #3</title><content type='html'>It may not always be so; and I say                 &lt;br /&gt;By E.E. Cummings&lt;br /&gt;Contemporary Poet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;S: A man who feels like he’s been cheated on&lt;br /&gt;O: Realizing that his wife/girlfriend might be interested in someone else&lt;br /&gt;A: His wife/girlfriend&lt;br /&gt;P: To show his true feelings that he won’t keep a grudge if she decides to leave him&lt;br /&gt;S: His wife’s/girlfriends’ betrayal&lt;br /&gt;Tone: Surprising, offhand&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I first read this poem, I didn’t like it at all. But once I read it like five more times I kind of got the meaning of a man trying to tell his wife/girlfriend that if she ever decided to be with someone else that he wouldn’t be the one to hold her back. It was interesting to see how Cummings uses a lot of commas and colons to separate his thoughts. It’s like they all support one another or as if he were making a side note. I also noticed that the stanzas either have ten syllables or eleven. With this technique the poem connects together, even though most of the words do not match. The last words of each sentence form a pattern with the other ending words, which is this pattern: ABBAABBACDECDE. To respond back to this poem I made a poem that was from the perspective of the wife/girlfriend. From the last two lines I got the idea that she will regret leaving him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It should have always been, and I say&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And what if it should be; and have me&lt;br /&gt;Kissing another’s persons’ lips, which you have loved, be on someone,&lt;br /&gt;and my eyes lust at another, as I once lusted for you;&lt;br /&gt; if on his chest I lie in such a silence as you know,&lt;br /&gt; or all my helpless little lies, making you miserable everyday;&lt;br /&gt;If this should be, and so what if it should be-&lt;br /&gt;You had my heart, and with your words; made me go unto him,&lt;br /&gt;and take his hands, yet you do not desire my happiness.&lt;br /&gt;Cuz when I turned my face, I saw my own disgrace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/635416899395019194-7024575608909687624?l=uniz-poetryunit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://uniz-poetryunit.blogspot.com/feeds/7024575608909687624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=635416899395019194&amp;postID=7024575608909687624' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/635416899395019194/posts/default/7024575608909687624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/635416899395019194/posts/default/7024575608909687624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://uniz-poetryunit.blogspot.com/2007/02/journal-3.html' title='Journal #3'/><author><name>Eunice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15670008989218795601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-635416899395019194.post-7119226848113368208</id><published>2007-02-08T19:25:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-08T18:22:48.002-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Journal #2</title><content type='html'>"I am accused of tending to the past" by Lucille Clifton&lt;br /&gt; Comparative Critic&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;S: Time&lt;br /&gt;O: Reflecting the past and every day life&lt;br /&gt;A: The world&lt;br /&gt;P: How the world has changed over time&lt;br /&gt;S: History&lt;br /&gt;Tone: Awareness, Knowledgeable&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This poem has been given lots of personification because it seems like time is talking about itself and how it feels like everyone accuses it of having created history. There is also some assonance in the poem yet not much for example, “learning languages everyday,” (13). The first half of the poem reflects a view of the speaker itself. It talks about itself and reflects how it is feeling. For example, “I am accused of tending to the past/as if I made it/as if I sculpted it, with my own hands. I did not”(1-4). Like time conveys its feelings of being an innocent person who is being accused of having created the events that happen on earth. However, in the second half of the poem time reflects more on the earth and also makes it personification because it gives it human characteristics. Like being able to talk or recognize names, faces, and dates.&lt;br /&gt;I looked up another poem by Lucille Clifton and noticed how she likes to add character to simple things like hands or hair. For example, in her poem “Fury-for mama,” she wrote, “Her hand is crying,” (1) and “her eyes are animals/ each hank of her hair/ is a serpent's obedient wife” (12-14). Clifton seems to pay attention to objects or people that we would normally not pay attention to. No one really pays attention to time or to a mother’s fury or they do not write about it. However, they are existent. She differs in these two poems because the first one pays more attention to an abstract thing and the second one portrays a feeling.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/635416899395019194-7119226848113368208?l=uniz-poetryunit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://uniz-poetryunit.blogspot.com/feeds/7119226848113368208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=635416899395019194&amp;postID=7119226848113368208' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/635416899395019194/posts/default/7119226848113368208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/635416899395019194/posts/default/7119226848113368208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://uniz-poetryunit.blogspot.com/2007/02/journal-2_08.html' title='Journal #2'/><author><name>Eunice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15670008989218795601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-635416899395019194.post-8207779641191631534</id><published>2007-02-08T18:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-06T22:15:08.264-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Journal #2</title><content type='html'>My Wicked Wicked Ways by Sandra Cisneros&lt;br /&gt;Personal Response&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;S: A little girl/boy talking about her parents &lt;br /&gt;O: Growing Up&lt;br /&gt;A: Family&lt;br /&gt;P: To show how her/his parent's actions will affect her later&lt;br /&gt;S: Her/his parent's "wicked ways"&lt;br /&gt;Tone: Revealing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Response:&lt;br /&gt;This poem seems to be conveying an allegory in which the speaker tells the poem in a way where it seems like she is just describing her parents but if one pays more attention they can see a more analytical interpretation. In this case how the girls/boys’ parents actions will eventually lead to the way the kid will grow up to be. There is also consonance in every line for example, “this is my father/See He is young” (1-2). This poem also forms a dramatic framework because the character in the poem (the kid) is put in a situation that expresses the theme which is people who add up to his character.  &lt;br /&gt;When people reflect back on their lives, most tend to see how their parent's actions have had an important role in creating who they are today. When I look back to how I am today and how my parents conduct towards me, I see how my parents advise me to believe in God and to stay true to myself. Living by these examples has created the person I am. Being confident and the way I act towards others, I try to be friendly towards others just the way I would want them to confront me. The message of this poem, of how ones actions can have an impact on others also makes me believe that if a person is surrounded by negative views then that person will grow up to be pessimistic. If everyone grew up with positive and mannerly ways then the world wouldn't be as corrupt as it is today. People should realize that their actions lead to the actions made by the people who look up to them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/635416899395019194-8207779641191631534?l=uniz-poetryunit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://uniz-poetryunit.blogspot.com/feeds/8207779641191631534/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=635416899395019194&amp;postID=8207779641191631534' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/635416899395019194/posts/default/8207779641191631534'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/635416899395019194/posts/default/8207779641191631534'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://uniz-poetryunit.blogspot.com/2007/02/journal-2.html' title='Journal #2'/><author><name>Eunice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15670008989218795601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-635416899395019194.post-794108405564151332</id><published>2007-02-02T12:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-02T12:40:18.961-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Journal #1</title><content type='html'>Preface to a Twenty Volume Suicide Note by Amiri Baraka&lt;br /&gt;Contemporary Poet &lt;br /&gt;S: Forgotten Mother &lt;br /&gt;O: After a divorce &lt;br /&gt;A: Her daughter/ people who suffer from a loss of a relationship &lt;br /&gt;P: To explain how one must move on and not forget about the others &lt;br /&gt;S: Broken-hearted mother who ignores a daughter &lt;br /&gt;Tone: Revealing &lt;br /&gt;Response: When I first read this poem I was shocked by the last line; I thought the poem at first was about a lady who had lost her personality. Like she was too involved with pleasing the word that “enveloped” her that she was forgetting who she really was and what she really liked to do. But then with the last line I took it more like a mother was forgetting about her other responsibilities, which was her daughter. I believe that this poem is an allegory because it reflects a narrative that has a second meaning beneath the first surface of the poem. It also reflects dramatic framework because the mother who is the main character in this poem reveals her situation by noticing how she has forgotten her daughter and in the end she sees the reality. In response to her poem, I create a poem but from the daughters perspective. I took it as if the daughter was being ignored because her mother had gone through a divorce and instead of focusing on the suicide of her mother the girl takes it back to her and desires to die. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mamma’s Little Girl &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I felt the need to pray &lt;br /&gt;Mammas attitude had changed&lt;br /&gt;Ever since daddy left I became a burden&lt;br /&gt;Or like the annoying sound the dryer&lt;br /&gt;Makes when the clothes is dry…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things have come to that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now, each day on my way to school I count the flowers&lt;br /&gt;And each time I count the same number. &lt;br /&gt;And when they have been picked&lt;br /&gt;I count the broken stems they leave. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nobody’s happy anymore. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then last night mother would rather spend her time walking the dog&lt;br /&gt;So when she tiptoed up to my room&lt;br /&gt;She saw me kneeling with clasped hands&lt;br /&gt;Asking God to please take me with him&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/635416899395019194-794108405564151332?l=uniz-poetryunit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://uniz-poetryunit.blogspot.com/feeds/794108405564151332/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=635416899395019194&amp;postID=794108405564151332' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/635416899395019194/posts/default/794108405564151332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/635416899395019194/posts/default/794108405564151332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://uniz-poetryunit.blogspot.com/2007/02/journal-1_02.html' title='Journal #1'/><author><name>Eunice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15670008989218795601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-635416899395019194.post-4463020162248947470</id><published>2007-02-02T12:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-02T12:10:16.944-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Journal #1</title><content type='html'>Minstrel Man by Langston Hughes&lt;br /&gt;Literary Critic &lt;br /&gt;S: A former slave  &lt;br /&gt;O: Everyday Life&lt;br /&gt;A: America- “Land of the free” &lt;br /&gt;P: To express how he feels about society &lt;br /&gt;S: Unfair treatment  &lt;br /&gt;Tone: Sympathetic &lt;br /&gt;Response: When I first read this poem I noticed how it was constructed in a dramatic framework because Langston Hughes seems to be describing a man who is in a situation that reveals the idea of how America should be the land of the free but in fact from the words of the character, he implies that he has no freedom. This gives the poem a form of euphony because the selected words give it a pleasant sound to ones ear. Which is also symbolic to what the man in the poem is saying; how society thinks he is doing great but in reality he is not. This poem also uses devices such as end-stopped line because the poem contains lines that end with question marks. For example, you do no think/I suffer after/I have held my pain/ so long? Constructed with free verse is also noted in the poem because it has a basic rhythm that I constructed by the lines and the words chosen. &lt;br /&gt;I think Langston Hughes did a really good job of conveying his message because he incorporated the idea of pretending to be happy as well as the idea of not being able to experience much freedom. The words he selects in his poem also help convey the message of America not being the “land of the free,” such as words like suffer, pain, inner cry, and die. Furthermore, Hughes conveys the idea of how one can seem to be happy but in reality they hide their sorrow by pretending to be happy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/635416899395019194-4463020162248947470?l=uniz-poetryunit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://uniz-poetryunit.blogspot.com/feeds/4463020162248947470/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=635416899395019194&amp;postID=4463020162248947470' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/635416899395019194/posts/default/4463020162248947470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/635416899395019194/posts/default/4463020162248947470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://uniz-poetryunit.blogspot.com/2007/02/journal-1.html' title='Journal #1'/><author><name>Eunice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15670008989218795601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-635416899395019194.post-6084120270837418058</id><published>2007-01-29T10:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-29T10:05:46.042-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Rose That Grew From Concrete</title><content type='html'>Did you hear about the rose that grew from a crack in the concrete? Proving nature's law is wrong it learned to walk with out having feet. Funny it seems, but by keeping it's dreams, it learned to breathe fresh air. Long live the rose that grew from concrete when no one else ever cared.&lt;br /&gt;-Tupac Amaru Shakur&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/635416899395019194-6084120270837418058?l=uniz-poetryunit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://uniz-poetryunit.blogspot.com/feeds/6084120270837418058/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=635416899395019194&amp;postID=6084120270837418058' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/635416899395019194/posts/default/6084120270837418058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/635416899395019194/posts/default/6084120270837418058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://uniz-poetryunit.blogspot.com/2007/01/rose-that-grew-from-concrete.html' title='The Rose That Grew From Concrete'/><author><name>Eunice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15670008989218795601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-635416899395019194.post-3730292206494931817</id><published>2007-01-29T10:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-29T10:04:44.839-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ambition Over Adversity</title><content type='html'>Take ones adversity&lt;br /&gt;Learn from their misfortune&lt;br /&gt;Learn from their pain&lt;br /&gt;Believe in something&lt;br /&gt;Believe in yourself&lt;br /&gt;Turn adversity into ambition&lt;br /&gt;Now blossom into wealth&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Tupac Amaru Shakur&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/635416899395019194-3730292206494931817?l=uniz-poetryunit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://uniz-poetryunit.blogspot.com/feeds/3730292206494931817/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=635416899395019194&amp;postID=3730292206494931817' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/635416899395019194/posts/default/3730292206494931817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/635416899395019194/posts/default/3730292206494931817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://uniz-poetryunit.blogspot.com/2007/01/ambition-over-adversity.html' title='Ambition Over Adversity'/><author><name>Eunice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15670008989218795601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-635416899395019194.post-231973851498128781</id><published>2007-01-26T14:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-26T14:25:09.711-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Poetic Language Writing Assignment</title><content type='html'>Poetic language to me means being able to express onself through descriptive words that flow together, creating a rythm that is pleasing to the ear. Poetic language is like a nice song, consturcted of words in order to emphasize an idea or feeling of the moment. Poetic language differs from poetry becuase poetry is more selecitve words that are joined together sometimes forming metaphors or similies. Poetry is rythm made up by words that are carefully chosen; leading to a pictorial description of an object or emotion.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/635416899395019194-231973851498128781?l=uniz-poetryunit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://uniz-poetryunit.blogspot.com/feeds/231973851498128781/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=635416899395019194&amp;postID=231973851498128781' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/635416899395019194/posts/default/231973851498128781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/635416899395019194/posts/default/231973851498128781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://uniz-poetryunit.blogspot.com/2007/01/poetic-language-writing-assignment.html' title='Poetic Language Writing Assignment'/><author><name>Eunice</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15670008989218795601</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
