Terrance+Williams

= "Poetry is important. No less than science, it seeks a hold upon = = reality, and the closeness of its approach is the test of its = = success."- Babette Deutsch  =


 * __Friday Night__**

one, two, three we ran, as fast as we can into the mysterious land but not just me, there were three

others followed, others lead if we got caught, we're good as dead but who cares no, not i because whats waiting on the other side cannot be described

but i lied, because in the blink of an eye we were on the girl's side

it was too dark for our destination to be seen but an easy entrance if you know what i mean for we were smart we were cunning

we had to be for the prize.... stunning we could see it like a bright light whoaa satch his truck turned the corner of the palace's back door my heart dropped to the floor we're dead

no, we came too far to go back i sprinted ahead but the truck didnt shed he followed i swallowed the frogs in my throat that built up over time

because committing this crime was adrenaline then, as the truck drove past us we leaned in to pass the finish line we were there

and the door was wide open LITERALLY


 * __Ode to My Mirror__**

Mirror Mirror on my wall You are the greatest of them all

you show let me see what hides behind me what otherwise, would be mere wishful thinking and assumption you guided me through those early stages of cutting my own hair when uncle mike wasn't there

you let me see a part of me that is physically invisible an image only seen by those around me an image that endures endless criticique but what binds the unbreakable balance between reality and reflection is confidence and assurance i keep my trust in you mirror to let me know let me know what my appearance truly is whether im under the weather and i look pale or could my red eyes land me in jail you assure me that what i look like is honest mirror mirror on the wal you are the most honest of them all


 * __I am From the City__**

I am from the city.  From Marvine and Camac.  From a row home and a single home,  (The foster home until I was four,  Then a single home until present).  I am from Friday night water gun fights, Saturday morning cartoons and Sunday Dinners. OH! How I love Sunday Dinners.  I am from sneaking to watch Pulp Fiction,  To playing Xbox all night long.  From clean up that room,  To clean this house.  From boarding school bull,  To Magnet School Kid. From Foot, To Basket... I ball I’m from “it only gets easier kid”, <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman Bold',serif; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 24px; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">To “being a teen aint so easy”, <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman Bold',serif; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 24px; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"> “So I’ve noticed”. <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman Bold',serif; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 24px; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">I’m from Kind and Non-chalant, <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman Bold',serif; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 24px; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"> To stubborn yet over-achieving. <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman Bold',serif; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 24px; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">I’m from sitting on the corner with friends during the summer, <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman Bold',serif; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 24px; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in; text-indent: 0.5in;">Jumping in piles of leaves during the fall, <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman Bold',serif; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 24px; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"> And sliding down the hill of snow in my yard during winter. <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman Bold',serif; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 24px; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">I’m from catching septa, <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman Bold',serif; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 24px; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"> Walking to the corner store and the Chinese store, <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman Bold',serif; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 24px; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"> Only for my favorite “homemade” tea and fried chicken wings. <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman Bold',serif; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 24px; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">I am from my mother and father, <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman Bold',serif; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 24px; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"> Sisters and brothers, <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman Bold',serif; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 24px; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"> All an influence on me. <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman Bold',serif; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 24px; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">I’m from the Gallery at Market East, <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman Bold',serif; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 24px; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"> From South Street and Penn’s Landing, <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman Bold',serif; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 24px; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"> From Scotland School and the Philadelphia Zoo. <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman Bold',serif; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 24px; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">But, most importantly, <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman Bold',serif; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 24px; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">I am from the city.

//<span style="font-size: 9pt; line-height: 24px; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;">Credited to: **George Ella Lyon and Dana Williams** //

media type="file" key="Cornerback Poem.m4a" width="300" height="50" **__Cornerback__** i cut the post i block the fly i steal the prize and do you know why because its my job i stare at you with 8 spider eyes i bet you its picked if i cheat on the lob i strafe into backfield scanning my zone the qb knows possession is at stake i yearn for the moment we are alone when i get the pick, 6 points i will take cuz i love chucking wide-outs at the line of scrimmage so he knows that I am farreal knowing its only a matter of time before i can make my highlight reel oh how i love being a cornerback

oh how i do love this football mayhem

**__I Was Raised By-__** Poem i was raised by wolves i was raised by a family that took me in although i wasn't theres but, i dwell with, live with, eat with, and breathe with them I was raised by wolves  they taught me to be what i became how to survive in this cold world how everybody isnt your friends, to watch my back, but to know they always had it i was raised by wolves  i have an aunt, shes my sister i had an uncle, he was my brother i have a grandmother, shes like my mother i have a grandpop, he's like my father when we separate, we seem alone but we stay in each others hearts always we stay together we roam in packs because i was raised by wolves

__**<span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS',cursive;">Personal Analysis **__ It’s funny that I almost felt like writing a poem about how I write poems, then you list it as an assignment- then I don’t feel like doing it anymore; its now like an obligation than something I would prefer to do. This is exactly how I write my poetry, as a hobby, as a casualty, as a privilege. It is a privilege for me to write poetry, and through this mindset is how I manage to keep my poetry free open and enjoyable to read. Actually, I think this all boils down with me keeping my poetry about myself because I constantly remind myself that it is for me, and other people just happen to benefit from it. For example, I like football. This is why I wrote a poem about my position in football. I didn’t write this poem because I tried to think about how many people will like to read my poem, I just thought to myself “I like football, and I am going to let everybody know.” And if you think about it, there are approximately 2 billion people in this world, there is bound to be at least one person who will enjoy what you are writing about. It is fact that there are so many people on earth that no matter what you think about, at least 5 people are doing exactly what you are thinking about. Also, in riff poem, I wrote about my life in the city. Now I didn’t even have to think about my audience in this poem because I knew I wouldn’t have to- its not like I live in Philadelphia by myself. I know that everything I do when I am a teen, other teens are doing it too. In fact, most of what I do, I do with my friends. So I know for a fact people can relate to it. I think the best technique I use to write is personal entertainment. I write as if I were the audience, and if I am not enjoying writing my own piece, how can other people? So I write until I like it 300%. The first 100 percent is myself; the other 100 is the audience that’s populated by the people I know. And the last 100 percent is for the people I don’t know. So all in all, I think I keep my poetry personal and easy to enjoy for the audience.

__**<span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS',cursive;">Detailed Analysis **__ All right, when I was first given this poet, I wasn’t too ecstatic. I just thought this was going to be a boring poet who writes poems about things only he can apprehend. Well, I was right about one thing, he does write some pretty different poems. The first poem I ever read of his was Under the World… and I thought this guy was a class one lunatic that just wrote really odd poems, but little did I know, he was actually a man of many names- so to speak. He was a liberal activist and a leader of a post WWII group. It was a regular practice for members of this group to experiment with different drugs and sexuality. Now, I know this doesn’t seem important to poetry, but this was actually the foundation I built my perspective of him around. This was the stepping stone that prevented me from being a judgmental critic that preceded to just call him crazy. It was really an excuse for his odd way of writing, but in actuality, I understood. Over the course of these two weeks, I have read numerous poems by Ginsberg, and one very consistent technique Allen used was to break the rules. You may think I’m speaking figuratively by writing with straightforward context, but no. I am speaking literally. He would write poems that would, either specifically or coincidentally, been a particular form of poetry. For example, in 1955, he wrote a poem, that he never published, titled Haiku. Ironically, the format of this poem followed only one of many rules that are needed to formally write a Haiku- he did make each stanza three lines. But, each stanza should contain only three lines, syllables landing 5-7-5… every time. But Allen would write lines with as many syllables as he wanted. I mean, sometimes one of his three rebellious lines would spur a pinch of loyalty to the poetry laws, but it was more rare than a poem he wrote that I could understand. This leads my next observation in his writing. In 1948, Allen Ginsberg was reading a book named Ah, Sunflower, The Sick Rose. During his reading, he claimed to have heard this voice of God, but late claiming it was the author of the book himself speaking. This may have been a result of his experimentation with drugs in his life. Nonetheless, he wrote a poem about this exact event, but a whole twelve years later. So, whether or not his drug use influenced that poem he wrote, it is undoubtedly a possibility, and this may explain the content of many of his poems. In various poems, there are specific lines that make absolutely no sense whatsoever. For example, in the poem Haiku, that I mentioned earlier, there is a line that say, “ah, my brain and eggs.” Now, this would have made sense if he was talking about breakfast, but the prior lines were “the sparrow shits upside down.” That’s it… noting more. Also, a poem that he named, strangely enough, Hum Bom. Now, I know that humming is making a noise through the vibrations of your lips while your mouth is closed. As for “Bom,” I have no clue what that means, and neither of those two words appear anywhere in this poem. In fact, the entire poem consists of “bombing”, and at the end he begins speaking in an entirely different language. But, I later discovered what he was saying was “Armageddon did the job.” Now to me that’s a little scary, but despite its terroristic ultimatum, he was, I think, talking about the end of the world by a bomb. Again, his experimentation with drugs, and his complete opposition of militarism, materialism and sexual repression probably brought this on. So, all in all, I have a pretty “open-minded” person. And I say the word minded very loosely because, although he was not a drug addict, he did “experiment” with drugs, and we all know that crack is a “hell of a drug.”