Monday, October 1, 2012

poetry: on allusion

A literary allusion is defined as the following:
a brief reference to a person, event, place, or phrase. The writer assumes the reader will recognize the reference. For instance, most of us would know the difference between a mechanic's being as reliable as George Washington or as reliable as Benedict Arnold. Allusions that are commonplace for readers in one era may require footnotes for readers in a later time.

Allusions are frequently used in poetry and prose alike. Your timed writing on Tuesday about the poem "Icarus" alludes to the Greek mythological story of Icarus. (for those who are interested in knowing more about the story: )

Write your own poem while utilizing allusion. This can be an historical, biblical, mythological, etc. allusion--any of your choosing. The poem may either center around the allusion, or the allusion may simply be used as a small piece of your poem to drive home an illustration or idea. You are the poet. The rhyme scheme (or lack thereof), format, length, content--everything--is entirely up to you. 
Let your creativity soar unlike the wings upon which Icarus flew and fell.

This blog is due no later than 8am Wednesday, October (can you believe it's October already?!) 3.


  1. As I walk around in nature
    I see the Almighty One
    I look ahead to my future
    I see my son.

    I pray he loves to play
    I hope he loves to fish
    I pray he is not gay
    Yes. This, this is my wish

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  3. Get me out of this town,
    I’ll go anywhere but here,
    But if I am too slow,
    I’ll never know.
    This town is way too small,
    Every wall has a tell all,
    But I trusted you with mine,
    Maybe I’m just blind.
    This town don’t like the truth,
    It don’t like anything new,
    You wear your masks so soundly,
    You like to fake so proudly.

    This party in this town is a Masquerade Ball ready to fall.

  4. God is the greatest
    He created the Earth, Stars
    He wrote the Bible

  5. Rain is coming.
    No, not rain--
    A flood.
    I sit and ponder what this word "flood" entails.
    I begin my preparations.
    my helpers begin to gather.
    the helpers that will revive the world.
    I pile on the planks of survival
    day by day by day.
    the stares and jeers used to bring shame.
    now all I feel is pity.
    when the day comes,
    their sins will wash them away--
    they will drown in their independence.
    I will float on His mercy
    and revive the world.
    I will await the dove.

  6. Effortlessly Gliding
    Man-made stone over the frozen rain
    The terrain is is my playground
    Like Hercules, I feel slightly beyond human
    Nothing can touch me
    The mountain side is mine to manipulate
    ...And then I hit a bump

  7. He came.
    A man? No, not quite...
    He had been dreamed of, longed for,
    desired by an entire nation for years on end.
    For what? That's a puzzle, you see,
    the nation wanted glory, but He came only to be...
    To be last when he deserved first.
    Not in style, but in rags.
    What was his legacy, you ask?
    Death. Gruesome death.
    But death is only the beginning of his legacy.
    If his legacy were to be written down, "I suppose that
    all the books in the world could not contain it."
    So what of him? Oh, don't you see?
    That man, that "nothing",controls every breath you breathe.

  8. Running and running,
    But there is no where to hide.
    He is everywhere.
    Every nook, every crevice,
    Every dark corner
    And there is no where to go.
    Every time I am thrown
    Into the belly of the whale,
    Where I live in the filth and rot
    And when I am ready,
    I am vomited out.


  9. I sit and i watch
    All around i see his handy work
    The glory that is his creation.
    As i sit i listen
    I hear the echoes of the wild,
    And i feel honored to be apart of his creation.

  10. After the War
    The rain fell all day long,
    No one knew where it had come from.
    The dry land, dry from war, sin, and defeat
    Began to be fed with water only from Heaven.
    But it was strong and powerful,
    Destroying most in its path.
    For three days the rain fell,
    As if Jonah himself had walked onto the earth and disobeyed God,
    Just to cause the terrible storm for the land. But …
    Isn’t if funny how the rain always brings something good?
    The remnants of the forsaken battle: gone from our sight,
    Aiding in our recuperation.
    The smell of death; distant, now, from our nostrils.
    Only a field of mud,
    Soon to be fertile soil;
    To become beautiful with growth,
    Never remembering the past.

  11. It rises quickly
    As I race to type
    It draws nearer.

    Passing myself is a thing of the past
    And the time is coming to a close.

    My procrastination
    Oh! what a horrible thing.

    Now I can see it breaking
    Just over the horizon so
    Just enough to let me know:

    The time has come to publish
    And I have 3 more lines to go.

    It rises quickly
    like a wild boar.
    Maybe. Just Maybe:
    I should have
    done my blog
    the night before.

  12. rolling everlasting
    tides passing
    crushing power
    every hour
    sustaining life
    my wife

  13. All a girl wants
    Are two small desires:
    A beautiful face
    And a boy she admires.
    Like the Greek Aphrodite
    That represents love
    And natural beauty,
    The kind from above.

  14. Strength like a lion
    His honor is like a small child;
    It grows and morphs into a man,
    Which soon will gain him respect,
    And his death will be like an old man-
    His years filled with honor and wisdom.
    His bravery is as high as the peak of Everest;
    His acts of heroism are achieved in the way child achieves his/her acts-
    Through purity, and not through harming others.
    Beowulf is the Hercules of his people.
    For he protects them at all costs.