Reaction 7: "A Girl and Her Monsters"

This week I wanted to post my crafted poem that I made for my LITR322 class, another in Spenserian stanza, and inspired by the book series "Witch on the Broom" as well as the overall theme of women combating their demons and monsters within them to be better or at least equal to men.

The poem was written for my daughter and I read it out loud here:
Otherwise, here is the poem! Please enjoy.

I will have one more week of blog posts about poetry and then I plan to move on to my travels when I take my family to Florida next week. Some thing to look forward are: food and business reviews, movie reviews, and another travel translation companion! Stay tuned!




“A Girl and her Monsters”

Once upon a time there lived a small girl, [a]

Near the castle made of beautiful gems. [b]

A quaint little girl whose beauty was pearl, [a]

Her bold mind always sought truth in life’s stems. [b]

Though unlike her King who lived on the Thames, [b]

Her heart was with the moon that lived in truth. [c]

But then one day her pa did say “Your hems [b]

my darling will bless you always with youth” [c]

And with a smile and kiss her pa spoke sooth. [c]

Up on learning of the beautiful girl, [a]

The King sent his Knight of gold to find her. [b]

Moon did see Gold when the Knight came with twirl, [a]

Taking her breath with his beautiful blur. [b]

In her hand he left a beautiful fleur. [b]

Her heart in that moment felt like the sun, [c]

The wind took her breath and words as a slur. [b]

Bright as the day but at night would be done, [c]

She spoke in kind lest she fall for his stun. [c]

“Dear knight sir knight what do you need my knight?” [a]

The knight with a smile did reply “You [b]

are summoned by the King my little sprite.” [a]

“Oh dear” she replied with a crimson flu. [b]

Her pa looked to the Knight of Gold and knew, [b]

“My lovely daughter, do go to your call [c]

This life o’ yours will in deed carry through” [b]


So the Moon left with the Gold to the Hall, [c]

And soon met the King who stood proud and tall. [c]

The King brought up a gem of arcane light, [a]

That flickered and beamed across the hall. [b]

He said with a grin “For you dear to fight, [a]

this weapon you comes from a cross the Gaul, [b]

and with it you shall never stop or fall.” [b]

So the girl nodded and a greed forth with [c]

“What shall I do my lord if I meet thrall? [b]


The girl replied not being a blacksmith. [c]

“Worry not little girl you will find pith” [c]

“Now on with the task, I ask that you go, [a]

Into the woods where there you face monsters [b]

Wicked and haunted they will fight with know, [a]

The monsters have already made their slaughter [b]

Of all knights here but not across water. [b]

No one left to fight well except for ye, [c]

Please forgive my hasty imprimatur. [b]

Cry the girl did not for she was to be[c]

A hero for once in a world lacking Free[c]




Several days passed and more did come, [a]

The little girl found herself in the woods, [b]

Heading towards the forest feeling numb. [a]

The sun was high in the sky as she stood, [b]

Looking at a truly wondrous dog wood. [b]

It rose highest of the trees in the sky, [c]

But from a branch up in the dog tree would [b]


Be the monster hauntingly standing by, [c]

As it bared its fangs howling a cry. [c]

It jumped down before her before she [a]

Could move but out came her weapon ready, [b]

As she stood. She held it tight as can be. [a]

But the monster one slash it took already, [b]

She ducked and dodged so unsteadily, [b]

Before she could fight back, the evil monster [c]

Swung hard but fell unintentionally. [b]


Then from deep inside she finally conjured [c]

The will to fight back and finally conquer. [c]

With a howl and a yowl, the monster fell, [a]

By the hand of the little girl and passed. [b]

She took a deep breath and could heard a yell, [a]

And before her eyes more monsters in mass. [b]

So she drew up her sword once more with class, [b]

Fighting to save her kingdom from the foes [c]

Though the creatures of darkness amass [b]


In groups they still could not win to her blows [c]

For Ever fighting in the woods no one knows[c]

Reaction 6: "War Within"

This week I would like to reflect on moments in war when a soldier is faced not just with the physical issues but the inward, logistical, and personal issues. Inspiration comes this week from the poems I read with the themes of ‘war’ in mind including Robert Lowell’ “For the Union Dead” and Karl Shapiro’s “Troop Train.”

Much of what has and hasn’t been said will always remain hidden with the wells of one’s soul. Nonetheless, one must deal with these issues or forever face an immortal nightmare. While I was not in combat in the military per se, I was in a combat all my own.

October of 2015 I had a lot of issues with my unit between harassment, disregard of my heritage, and religious bias. My life flipped over, just as suddenly as the Troop Train did during World War II. And like Lowell’s message and perspective of a horror story from a soldier, I have one to tell as well… but that is for another day. Today is another poem I would like to simply call “War Within”

“War Within”

The War,
It rages,
It burns,
It destroys.

But nothing can stop its flame,
Until you find a way.
The war within is
Always outside of us,
Even when we
Are looking in.

If War can cause chaos,
So peace can cause war.
This is the mentality,
Of the Prisoners
Of War.

But the war within,
Rages and burns,
Destroys and devours,
All of our soul.

Nothing can stop it,
At least with force.
But give it some life,
And maybe you’ll lose,
Remorse.

War Within,
Never without,
If one takes his soul,
Through the iron Hels of doubt.

Reaction 5: "Little Birdy" and "The True Slave"

This week I would like to talk about how the term “race” does not make sense and at the same time, truly upsets me. It makes me realize how ignorant the world is. From one person’s perspective race could be identified as separation of genes, inherent in the subject’s species. But for a wide majority, it seems, race applies to a species as well.

In the early 1900’s an extremely interesting movement occurred: The Harlem Renaissance. It brought to life ideas of race, and how, as Langston Hughes put it, “blacks” should be proud of their race and not try to be so “white.” The flaw here, in my opinion (and particularly today) is that we are all one race. All Human. All Homo Sapien.

Needless to say, the struggle with these weeks poetry have been emotional and at a deeply painful surge of doubt. I want a stronger, better future of people, of humanity. And thus, I hope you will enjoy my inspiration for today’s poems: “Little Birdy” and “The True Slave”



“Little Birdy”

Within the mind’s eye
Eye’s I, I see,
Sits a little birdy,
I, with an eye, see.
Look a little closer,
Birdy, birdy, birdy.
Caught yourself in the net.
Eye, I, my eye sees.

Left alone little birdy,
And soon the world free.



“The True Slave”



Slavery is made of madness,
Madness found within sadness,
And sadness found within madness.
But slave madness is not sadness,
Nay it is but ill madness.

The True Slave is total madness,
Compelled by only sadness,
But what is the true slave?
Nothing but madness and sadness.

The world speaks with broken lips,
But nothing upon which it can kiss.
Subtle, seductive, slowly serpentine,
Slavery soothes sleepless sours.
True Slavery eats up all hours.

Lost in a puzzle of the mind,
Deciding what is truly kind.
Madness and sadness overrun,
In a world of forgot Sons.
The True Slave awaits.