Assignment # 3 Write a poem using anaphora (repetition of a phrase or sentence). One page, typed, single-spaced, with double spacing between stanzas.
Excerpts from I AM WAITING by Lawrence Ferlinghetti
I am waiting for my case to come upand I am waitingfor a rebirth of wonderand I am waiting for someoneto really discover Americaand wailand I am waitingfor the discoveryof a new symbolic western frontierand I am waitingfor the American Eagleto really spread its wingsand straighten up and fly rightand I am waitingfor the Age of Anxietyto drop deadand I am waitingfor the war to be foughtwhich will make the world safefor anarchyand I am waitingfor the final withering awayof all governmentsand I am perpetually awaitinga rebirth of wonderI am waiting for the Second Comingand I am waitingfor a religious revivalto sweep thru the state of Arizonaand I am waitingfor the Grapes of Wrath to be storedand I am seriously waiting ...for Billy Graham and Elvis Presleyto exchange roles seriouslyand I am waitingto see God on televisionpiped onto church altarsif only they can findthe right channelto tune in onand I am waitingfor the Last Supper to be served againwith a strange new appetizerand I am perpetually awaitinga rebirth of wonder.I am waiting for my number to be calledand I am waitingfor the living endand I am waitingfor dad to come homehis pockets fullof irradiated silver dollarsand I am waitingfor the atomic tests to endand I am waiting happilyfor things to get much worsebefore they improveand I am waitingfor the Salvation Army to take overand I am waitingfor the human crowdto wander off a cliff somewhereclutching its atomic umbrellaand I am waitingfor Ike to actand I am waitingfor the meek to be blessedand inherit the earthwithout taxesand I am waitingfor forests and animalsto reclaim the earth as theirsand I am waiting ...for linnets and planets to fall like rain. . .in a new rebirth of wonder.I am waiting for the Great Divide to be crossedand I am anxiously waitingfor the secret of eternal life to be discoveredby an obscure general practitionerand save me forever from certain deathand I am waitingfor life to beginand I am waitingfor the storms of lifeto be overand I am waitingto set sail for happiness ...and I am waitingfor the lost music to sound againin the Lost Continentin a new rebirth of wonderf f f g g gGo to the website for The Academy of American Poets at http://www.poets.org/Look on the menu on the left side of the page for ŇFind a PoetÓ and use it to find out more about Lawrence Ferlinghetti and Pablo Neruda. Click on the letter for their last names and look down the list which opens up. Click on the poetŐs name and you will find a short bio plus a few of their poems online.
TONIGHT I CAN WRITE
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
Write, for example, 'The night is shatteredand the blue stars shiver in the distance.'
The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.
Through nights like this one I held her in my arms.I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.
She loved me, sometimes I loved her too.How could one not have loved her great still eyes.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.
To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.
What does it matter that my love could not keep her.The night is shattered and she is not with me.
This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.
My sight searches for her as though to go to her.My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.
The same night whitening the same trees.We, of that time, are no longer the same.
I no longer love her, that's certain, but how I loved her.My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.
Another's. She will be another's. Like my kisses before.Her voice, her bright body, her infinite eyes.
I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her.Love is so short, forgetting is so long.
Because through nights like this one I held her in my armsmy soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.
Though this be the last pain that she makes me sufferand these the last verses that I write for her,
-- Pablo Neruda in Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despairtranslated by W.S. Merwin
Pablo Neruda was born in the frontier lands of southern Chile in 1904 and lived a life charged with political and poetic activity. In 1971, Neruda, often referred to as "the poet of enslaved humanity," was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature. He died in 1973. His Memoirs are worth reading.