Christopher+Cassise


 * Praise:Teachers, Scholars, Doctors...**

Setting the foundation for human life, Shaping the future protectors of indisposition and disease, Building the individuals intellect. Depriving human life from them, who would influence our future leaders. Characteristics of heros. But not celebrated as heros? Actors, Athletes, receive more money and waste it on drugs. But heros, who shaped the doctors and nurses who will save those actors and athletes from death, What is there salary? What do they get? 3 quarters less then millions. Struggling to feed their family. Should Heros struggle?? Why does the true Hero to people, remain, just a shadow in the mind of humans everywhere? Why is there this imbalance?


 * Ode to the Economy**

Like a stranger caught pants down the a heavenly choir No safe bet since their start in life Reality sends me no where I climb the steps and it builds more No matter how inflexible your duty maybe, Or its resilience to your fight, You must all was succeed Father speaks of, But yet no help from the economy, will stricken me with hell! I am hurt, battered, and dead When can the important people in this life who must actually work get the money they need? How come I must watch an athlete play a game fit for a child and later learn about his million dollar contracts with luck and unbalanced life?

Hornworm: Autumn Lamentation by Stanley Kunitz Since that first morning when I crawled into the world, a naked grubby thing, and found the world unkind, my dearest faith has been that this is but a trial: I shall be changed. In my imaginings I have already spent my brooding winter underground, unfolded silky powdered wings, and climbed into the air, free as a puff of cloud to sail over the steaming fields, alighting anywhere I pleased, thrusting into deep tubular flowers.

It is not so: there may be nectar in those cups, but not for me. All day, all night, I carry on my back embedded in my flesh, two rows of little white cocoons, so neatly stacked they look like eggs in a crate. And I am eaten half away.

If I can gather strength enough I'll try to burrow under a stone and spin myself a purse in which to sleep away the cold; though when the sun kisses the earth again, I know I won't be there. Instead, out of my chrysalis will break, like robbers from a tomb, a swarm of parasitic flies, leaving my wasted husk behind.

Sir, you with the red snippers in your hand, hovering over me, casting your shadow, I greet you, whether you come as an angel of death or of mercy. But tell me, before you choose to slice me in two: Who can understand the ways of the Great Worm in the Sky?


 * The Long Boat**

When his boat snapped loose

from its mooring, under

the screaking of the gulls,

he tried at first to wave

to his dear ones on shore,

but in the rolling fog

they had already lost their faces.

Too tired even to choose

between jumping and calling,

somehow he felt absolved and free

of his burdens, those mottoes

stamped on his name-tag:

conscience, ambition, and all

that caring.

He was content to lie down

with the family ghosts

in the slop of his cradle,

buffeted by the storm,

endlessly drifting.

Peace! Peace!

To be rocked by the Infinite!

As if it didn't matter

which way was home;

as if he didn't know

he loved the earth so much

he wanted to stay forever.

I Dreamed That I Was Old

by Stanley J. Kunitz I dreamed that I was old: in stale declension Fallen from my prime, when company Was mine, cat-nimbleness, and green invention, Before time took my leafy hours away. My wisdom, ripe with body’s ruin, found Itself tart recompense for what was lost In false exchange: since wisdom in the ground Has no apocalypse or pentecost. I wept for my youth, sweet passionate young thought, And cozy women dead that by my side Once lay: I wept with bitter longing, not Remembering how in my youth I cried.

**Poem Response**
Christopher Cassise I thought to respond to a poet I have grown a liking on. Stanley Kunitz is the name and was born in 1905 and died recently in which he left behind a legacy of memories in WWII and his poems. What had me interested in him were his thoughts and outcries in his poems. In such poems that I selected, one that made me think of possible reasons he wrote them, led to different routes to the same idea, which gives it a unique and complex quality piece.

The poem “Hornworm: Autumn Lamentation” is a poem in my view about life in general. With the questions and doubts wondered during the process of getting to know the universe. The bad and the ugly are often endured often as a child that grows with a person’s belief. This poem relates to me and how I outcry about the tendencies of our world and how things are handled. I believe that how I interpret my messages are in terms of how Stanley Kunitz does with much analyzation and deeper meaning.

“My dearest faith has been that this is but a trial.” A trial of emotions, discomforts, and torments. The agonizing pain believing in this world. The scarce sums of individuals who are relatives and friends… How do I disconnect and transfer to a life of significance? Bursting these seams with faith and virtue Take every word and grasp it for my own? To have a possession of it Is it with in the realms of possibility? No
 * Poem Riff**

Christopher Cassise Copper
 * Poem reflection**

My poem is expressed and viewed symbolically about our world now. It talks about our problems with the economy and outcry. Stanley Kunitz, who has become an inspiration for me, influenced me to write my ode and praise. He has shown me that not all poets have the same meaning but stretch the thoughts and ideas to a masterpiece.

4 The way the rain blows in the sky 4 Has a feeling of love or hate 4That feeling covers my eye 2 where I will see my fate.
 * Poem Sonnet**

What will I do? nothing or something as a teen to do as FUN when it rains for you not for me, Im never that mean

To wish such a problem of fun I guess my days are cut short Where my run and gun strategy will fall to none how can I break this fort?

Grow up and go outside, rain doesnt hurt and its short why?