Taniera

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 -A poem should not mean, but be? This stood out to me immediately. I pandered the deeper meaning of the statement. A poem should not mean anything but be as is? Or a poem should not be meant just exist? I feel poems are broad statements that could be taken any way imaginable. Depends on the imagination. ======


  Sonnet: **//"Insincere"//**

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 Feeling free. Unwillingly. Admired.  ======


    =**//-Ode To Death-//** = =<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif; color: rgb(14, 249, 251);"> = <span style="font-family: Georgia,serif; color: rgb(14, 249, 251);"><span style="font-family: Georgia,serif; color: rgb(0, 128, 0);"> <span style="color: rgb(21, 211, 244);">Goodbye. Forever? That’s life’s end. Then it starts again. Then people get sick. Then they die. Amazing huh? Then families and friends join in the unfairly scented hospital hallways. Then our selfish hearts feelings and thoughts force us to shed tears not considering what you would’ve wanted. Then we cry a clear substance. They call them tears. Merely the replacement of unspoken emotions. They don’t help. It never works. &Because of that I hate you. I hate you for leaving me here with only the informally unjust option of reminiscence. Pictures and images meant to demolish this feeling of isolation from ones mind body and spirit. I this a joke? Guess not. No warning. No signs. Just departure. I’ll live. <span style="color: rgb(21, 211, 244);"><span style="font-family: Georgia,serif;"> <span style="color: rgb(21, 211, 244);">

<span style="color: rgb(227, 22, 55); font-family: 'Lucida Console',Monaco,monospace;"> <span style="font-family: 'Lucida Console',Monaco,monospace; color: rgb(227, 22, 55);"><span style="color: rgb(21, 211, 244);"><span style="color: rgb(227, 22, 55);"> <span style="font-family: Impact,Charcoal,sans-serif;"> <span style="font-family: Verdana,Geneva,sans-serif;"> =<span style="font-family: Verdana,Geneva,sans-serif; color: rgb(227, 22, 55);">Ghazal: //**"Untitled"**// = =<span style="font-family: Verdana,Geneva,sans-serif;"> = <span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,serif;"><span style="font-family: Impact,Charcoal,sans-serif; color: rgb(227, 22, 55);"><span style="font-family: Verdana,Geneva,sans-serif;"><span style="color: rgb(227, 22, 55);">//-Taniera// //<span style="font-family: Verdana,Geneva,sans-serif; color: rgb(227, 22, 55);"><span style="font-family: Verdana,Geneva,sans-serif;">Such deceit I‘ve encountered throughout the years I’ve grown to appreciate as growth portions. From where do my thoughts originate? Is there a department specified for emotions?

As I approached, stumbled upon, and elapsed by adolescence, realizing the pain emotion and half pint joy, I understand the well deserved anger overload. Encountering more emotions.

Life does that. Takes you to the highest peak. Brings you to the slums of the devils desires. Then you question who your real friends could be. Sequestering yourself. Poor emotions.

Then you like boys. Then society assembles a declaration of faithlessness brainwashing women to despise yet desire the mere thought of marriage. Core emotions.

And high school isn’t what you see on television. You don’t have half the excitement throughout the course of one day. The assignments are strenuous and your narcissistic egocentric peers lure emotions.

Who stare, talk, and smile. Those select few being the mere forgery of friendship. And then there’s you. Practicing simplicity. The simple task seems to weigh heavy every day of every year. Gore emotions.

Next is the simple trance of college. Your escape to reality. Separation from one’s dependence. Erroneous influences. Substandard decisions. Florid emotions.

Actuality. Existence. Authentic. It all seems overrated. You understand this culture is fatal. To continuously reside, you must change. Unable to ignore emotions.

Hatred toward society easily develops and Loves tends to fade. It fades into a paltry image of darkness. Slowly becoming the opposite of its original form. Sore emotions.

Then you look in the mirror at the girl who’s acquaintance you once dominated. Taniera. And when she opens her eyes, she leers at life. The unpleasantly wore emotions. // <span style="font-family: Verdana,Geneva,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Impact,Charcoal,sans-serif; color: rgb(227, 22, 55);">

<span style="font-family: Verdana,Geneva,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Impact,Charcoal,sans-serif; color: rgb(227, 22, 55);"> **<span style="font-family: 'Courier New',Courier,monospace; color: rgb(0, 128, 128);"> <span style="color: rgb(0, 128, 128); font-family: 'Courier New',Courier,monospace;"> <span style="font-family: 'Courier New',Courier,monospace; color: rgb(0, 128, 128);">About the author... **<span style="font-family: 'Courier New',Courier,monospace; color: rgb(0, 128, 128);"> //<span style="font-family: 'Courier New',Courier,monospace; color: rgb(0, 128, 128);"> <span style="font-family: 'Courier New',Courier,monospace;">I am a writer. My writing consists of diversity and complexity. The many different thoughts and emotions running through my head at once. God, Life and Love. How can my thoughts be written on paper? Easily. In sonnet, ode, and ghazel form. The various rhyme schemes are quite intriguing I often find myself identifying rhyme schemes in divergent pieces of writing whether it be a poem or short story. As a poet, I personally enjoy writing to the beat of my own drum, no rules, no grammar, no punctuation, just letters bringing forth extensive emotion. One literary strategy I try to exercise when writing is visualization. I try to make certain the reader not only imagines, but paints a picture of their own. Writing overall is my first love. The substantial sentiment certain pieces of writing brings forth urges me to not only continue writing, but do it in a way where I can convey a momentous message to readers everywhere. <span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS',cursive;"> <span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS',cursive;"> //

**To Anita**
-Sonia Sanchez

high/yellow/black/girl walken like the sun u be. move on even higher. those who laugh at yo/color have not moved to the blackness we be about cuz as Curtis Mayfield be sayen we people be darker than blue and quite a few of us be yellow all soul/shades of blackness. yeah. high/yellow/black/girl walk yo/black/song cuz some of us be hearen yo/sweet/music.

code Ballad -Sonia Sanchez

forgive me if i laugh you are so sure of love you are so young and i too old to learn of love.

the rain exploding in the air is love the grass excreting her green wax is love and stones remembering past steps is love, but you. you are too young for love and i too old.

once. what does it matter when or who, i knew of love. i fixed my body under his and went to sleep in love all trace of me was wiped away

forgive me if i smile young heiress of a naked dream you are so young and i too old to learn of love. code A Poem for my Father -Sonia Sanchez

With exact wings Your words sailed back into your throat. Could not fly forward. Your mouth face startled by this autumn Thunder went south again. I had forgotten the salute of death, how it waits Militarily on the outskirts of our skin. I had forgotten how death howls inside our veins. O father, how much like a child again I felt as I ran down doctors painted on porcelain corridors. O My father, as I breathed inhaled for us both, I began to sing a song you sang when I was little without a poet's name, Afraid of all the shadows cremating my bones,

Remember the nite, The nite you said I love you remember...

I remembered your voice swollen in a ritual of words on 152nd Street and St. Nicholas Place. Now I, daughter of applause, hands waterlogged with memory, asked for nothing more as I circled your hospital room, sequined with our breaths in an hour-glass of sound.

=//<span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS',cursive; color: rgb(125, 43, 93);">Soniah Sanchez //=

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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New',Courier,monospace; color: rgb(125, 43, 93);"><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS',cursive;">Sonia Sanchez is a competent poet whose workings were rewarded throughout her career as a writer. Sanchez once said, “To write poetry, you must read and, read some more”. Poetry takes not only skill, but tranquility. Being rewarded for her astonishing work such as Does your house have lions? (1995) for which was nominated for both the NAACP Image and National Book Critics Circle Award and her the famous Homegirls & Handgrenades (1984), won an American Book Award from the Before Columbus Foundation makes her the noted poet she is. “i fixed my body under his and went to sleep in love” Is a quote from the poem Ballad. Sanchez remembers her experiences of love. Fixing her body under hers, she slept in love. Having been raised in the south, some of her poetry such as To Anita expresses her southern state of mind. “those who laugh at yo/color have not moved to the blackness we be about ” She speaks of the many diverse complexities the black race consists of African Americans. Sanchez means no one really knows the feelings of the darker ones. Those who’s color is laughed have not yet experienced the darkness of her skin. “high/yellow/black/girl walken like the sun u be. move on even higher. “ Sonia Sanchez states high and yellow before she states black girl because in society, especially in the old southern states, the lighter the skin, the more acceptance one received in society. ”…move on even higher”, meaning, keep moving up in life because your skin is closer to “theirs”. Pass your “brothers” and “sisters” and move on to a better life. In the poem, A Poem for my Father, the author states, “I had forgotten the salute of death, how it waits Militarily on the outskirts of our skin.” This quote highlights the foreshadowing of her fathers death. How death waits on the outer parts of our bodies; waiting for us to give up. She had forgotten that death was bound to happen and that when that time came, death was sure to wait for the right moment to strike. Sanchez is a prominent writer. She’s illustrious for her past achievements in the English world, specializing in poetry. Her admirable style of writing is one that’ll be not just remembered, but greatly respected.

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