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My Poetry Portfolio

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BC: Hope you enjoyed this portfolio!

FC: My Poetry Portfolio Hanfei Wang Mrs. Glenn

1: Table of Contents Where I'm From...............2 My Mother's Kitchen..........4 Mother to Son..................6 Ode to GSMST.................8 Journey Through Language..10 The Road Not Taken..........12 100 Years......................14

3: Where I'm From I am from the warmth of my mother, which was the first thing in the world to greet me, yet it is something that I often forget about. I am from the absence of my father in my earliest years, leaving a hole in my life that even now is not completely filled. I am from the vibrant, populous city in which I had lived for seven years in, before fate had intervened, uprooted me, and put me down in a new place- a new country- with a new set of choices. I am from the American suburbia in which I presently reside, those new choices, once as far away as the horizon, are now upon me. I am from the toys, the games, the TV shows I used to watch as a child, all left in the dust behind while I was sprinting away from memory lane. I am from the assignments, the homework, the projects, and all the other work that were- and still are- thorns in my side, reminding me that “being bigger” comes with a price. I am from the lonely years of my earlier childhood, a child without friends, because he was a foreigner, someone from a distant land, someone “who should be avoided at all costs”. I am from the friends made over the past few years; a group of friends that I cherish, believe in, and am indebted to, for they have cracked open my thick turtle shell and introduced me to their world, a world of happiness, fun, and enjoyment. I am from everyone who cared about me, people who took the time out to help me, because I wouldn’t be here without them. I am from the sum of my life experiences, from the obliviousness of infancy to the innocence of childhood to the arduous transition into a mature being. I am from.....everything.

5: My Mother's Kitchen I come home, and boy am I itchin’ To find some food, right in the kitchen. To my surprise, I find my mother there already, And as for our food, almost ready. There are green peppers laid all around, And a dead cow, which I knew was going to be ground. Suddenly, my grandmother comes in here, And my mother goes, “Who’s there?” My grandmother calmly replied, “It’s your mother, smart one.” And my mother simply said, “It’s cooking time, oh so fun.” In time, the meal is completed, And my mother cries to everyone, “It’s dinner time, get yourselves seated.”

7: Mother to Son Well, son, let me tell you, Life won’t be a scenic drive. Sometimes there are potholes that try to suck you in; Avoid them at all costs, I know you can. There are nails that try to puncture your tires; Just drive around them and you’ll be fine. There are times where the road gets curvy; Just make the turns, with utmost caution. There are times when you’ll want to stop, But others will pass you, and you’ll be behind. There are times when you’ll want to pull off the road; And to that I say, if I’m still going, You can keep going, And life won’t ever be a scenic drive.

8: Ode to GSMST O GSMST, our glorious institution! How we always wonder what you do! You assert that there’s always a solution, And we used to always say, “We’ve no clue.” But you have taught us well, And brought our brains to bear, To make our futures bright, To future generations we’ll tell: “If for your education you care, GSMST will set you right!” O GSMST, our grand school! How we work and stay up late for you! Selected from a talented pool, We in August jumped in anew. No time to play or even sleep, Working had become our lives. Around the clock we stay awake, All for the fragile grade we attempt to keep. Not unlike bees busy in hives, Heavy is the workload we must take. O GSMST, a technology center! How we wonder at the laptops given to all! Into the high-tech world we enter, And out of it we shall not fall. Everything is done on these machines, Without them, we wouldn’t be GSMST. It seems like an audacious thing For a school system to give laptops to teens. But we at GSMST know with certainty, The laptops will be in safe keeping.

9: O GSMST, a school of high achievement! How we wonder how you make that so! Half the incoming class will leave in bereavement, They couldn’t (or wouldn’t) keep up, so they had to go. Starting from boot camp, you were tough, Weeding out those unable, and hardening the rest. During the year, you kept up expectations, For you mediocrity wasn’t enough. You demanded of us the best, Causing in many of us numerous lamentations. O GSMST, jewel of Gwinnett! How we laud you for your education! All our expectations have been met, No- not met, exceeded beyond expectation! From advanced classes and towering stress, To tons of homework and difficult tests. All of that will prepare us, for what comes ahead, College, unlike for some others, won’t be a mess. This school doesn’t allow for many rests, But will make us stronger instead. O GSMST, our glorious institution! How we always wonder what you do! You assert that there’s always a solution, And we used to always say, “We’ve no clue.” But you have taught us well, And brought our brains to bear, To make our futures bright, To future generations we’ll tell: “If for your education you care, GSMST will set you right!”

11: A Journey of Language Every afternoon we’d come in, And there we see Mrs. Glenn. She always has something to do, And we’ve sometimes no clue, But there’ll be a lot of learning within. Essays we used to write, Sometimes into the night. And we’ll peer review, Always by a few, And that always sets things right. Then we were reading, Oh, it was like force feeding! The stories we’d engulf, From Odyssey to Beowulf, We came to love it before proceeding. Persuasion followed soon, Livening the afternoon. Oh there was debate, But there was never hate; To intolerance we were immune. Poetry here we are; The end of a journey not far. Analyses we have done, And this portfolio we’ve begun, Which we hope we won’t mar.

12: Analysis This poem by Robert Frost is an extended metaphor. In the poem, the narrator has to roads to pick from; one is well-traveled, while the other was through thick woods and was not traveled. The roads refer to paths of life that you can take, and Frost's message for the readers is to go your own route in life and don't merely follow others.

13: The Road Not Taken Robert Frost Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth; Then took the other, as just as fair And having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy and wanted wear; Though as for that, the passing there Had worn them really about the same, And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back. I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: two roads diverged in a wood, and I -- I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.

14: 100 Years- Five for Fighting I'm 15 for a moment Caught in between 10 and 20 And I'm just dreaming Counting the ways to where you are I'm 22 for a moment And she feels better than ever And we're on fire Making our way back from Mars 15 there's still time for you Time to buy and time to lose 15, there's never a wish better than this When you only got 100 years to live I'm 33 for a moment Still the man, but you see I'm a “they” A kid on the way, babe A family on my mind I'm 45 for a moment The sea is high And I'm heading into a crisis Chasing the years of my life

15: 15 there's still time for you Time to buy and time to lose yourself Within a morning star 15 I'm all right with you 15, there's never a wish better than this When you only got 100 years to live Half time goes by Suddenly you're wise Another blink of an eye 67 is gone The sun is getting high We're moving on I'm 99 for a moment Dying for just another moment And I'm just dreaming Counting the ways to where you are 15 there's still time for you 22 I feel her too 33 you're on your way Every day's a new day 15 there's still time for you Time to buy and time to choose Hey 15, there's never a wish better than this When you only got 100 years to live Analysis This song is about a 99-year-old man who reflects back on his life and briefly describes his life. He wishes he was 15 again, when he had a whole life ahead of him. He encourages the audience to live their lives to the fullest.

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  • By: Hanfei W.
  • Joined: almost 7 years ago
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  • Title: My Poetry Portfolio
  • 5th Period Mrs. Glenn February 21, 2010
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  • Published: almost 7 years ago

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