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Digital Portfolio

Grace Kwon

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Table of contents

Ballad poem………………………………………

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First poem (field trip)…………………………

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Second poem (field trip)…………………….

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Third Poem (field trip)………………………..

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Fourth Poem (field trip)……………………..

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Narrative poem………………………………….

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Extended Metaphor poem………………….

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Concrete poem…………………………………..

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Scar poem…………………………………………..

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Apology poem…………………………………….

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Poetry reflection/grading selection……..

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Ballad Poem: Locomotive

Trudging along a peaceful stroll, Leisurely and at ease, Lover’s caressing it’s their soul, Clasped in embrace that’s a please. Snow drifting like some sugar tufts, Play ballads let’s take flight, Dream tonight it’s enough, Ride with me honey hold tight.

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Dreamy Night

Look at that sky My, my a starry night it is Might I pluck a star out of the veils of black? And swing upon the curtains In wistful dreaminess, Shadows from dusk drift here and there Some dash, others stroll It is a calm peaceful night No room for remorse or regret, I sit, breath mingling with warm winds Pushing off the ledge, I float, down, down, down Away I go.

The Death of The Poet Walter Roheimer

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Conrad Felixmuller

Party Scene

It’s a sexy mood, Laughter is vibrant in the air And I watch it swirl and twirl around The curve of bodies, people sway, It is a charming scene, A skirt twirls and an arm Entwines with another, Dancing tells it like a love story And the building rocks with the notes, Perhaps it is a woman’s lips That sets the trance, it doesn’t matter, The party goes on late into the night, To one, two, three…

Nightlife

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Archibald J. Motley Jr. Observer

Oh he’s handsome, Brown lush curls and an air of confidence Puts to shame my blushful ways By the window I wait Hands clasped and body held poise In an extravagant embellishment, Peeking out the window, Eyes are laid on a man of curious drawing, Heart tight on the edge of the lips. My eyes wander and take a stroll.

Madame Singer Sargent

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John Singer Sargent Life Isn’t Simple

It is not easy to sit in the lap of concrete Pressed upon every day, Fingerprints marked upon every crease, Poked and prodded, Looked at in and out, Sleek and handsome as a pin Oh what a waste is this attractiveness, Cannot move nor shift but only sit. A terrible shame, This roundness of mine, Forever lolling about in the sun Fading away to whatever This state can presume A large shiny bean Set in Millennium Park.

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The Bean 100% skill, 100% strength, 100% grace

When I was just 10, I would dream, no I would dance Arms and legs entwined It was as if my body fell in love, My own little world and I thought, Nobody could change this. Now, I met a teacher of hard bearings Face set serious, he was not here for charm. I felt an affair taking place, Butt in, chin up, line stretched Poked, turned, pulled, and pushed I asked my lover what had happened‌ It felt brutal, my back ached My foot pulsed and I wondered Why he pushed me so. It was for my best, 100% skill, 100% strength, 100% grace I was trained to be a triple threat, A tough love situation And I became better than my best.

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You

Neglecting, shadow passing through night, Eyes set to the north, a broken cane, Bipolar like the weather. Clear-minded, not, Sharp as a whip, painful yes, a cactus, Matter over mind, blindfolded child, You prey others, pouncing as if survival. Dulled to the depth, Captain Dieward Haggard, Fling me a vest, you lying bastard, Sour residue, pickled jug of water. Sam I am, take a pass Truth Avenue, Shy as a pea nestled in a corner. Dull as a rock on doomsday hoarder, Restless as a bumble bee near dewdrop honey, Thick as the dough that clings you dummy. Heavy as wet clothes hang, Mind if I hit you with bang, Spoiled like my aunt’s lunch patty,

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Smile, round, bright lightface, Curved, circled, a happy embrace. Directional, solid, expression based, Ecstatic hew my own put face. Proportional eyes, set deep and dark, Perfect circles, smile the pleasure is mine.

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Scars

These scars I have, That is so deeply embellished, The knees, ankles, feet I explain like this, It is the way I live To tumble, roll, and run. The field and studio is where it starts I create and no matter what Shape, size, round, big small, I consider them war wounds These deep set tissues of mine, But it is what makes them, That portrays them as special.

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I’m sorry

Forgive me For closing The door In your Face I noticed You were Behind me And thought It was a chase

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Reflection

The experience for this unit was quite stressful. I wish there were more time given to complete these pieces of poetry. I felt that everything was rushed and crammed into a very short amount of time instead of the writing itself being creatively thought out and enjoyed. As a writer, I noticed that my writing becomes very cheesy, especially when it comes to poetry, multiple times I would have to catch myself from saying various phrases. I actually used to enjoy writing poetry but ever since this unit‌.I truthfully sort of got sick and tired of it instead of appreciating it more. I think if we were given more time for each assignment and not given so much one after the other, my mind wouldn’t have felt so overwhelmed and I would have felt like this was a good learning process. Although, the attempt to make poetry interesting really did help, I did indeed learn how to be more insightful when it comes to poetry and did not know that there were so many types and various styles. The three selections that I chose to be graded is the extended metaphor poem, the narrative poem, and the forgive me poem. All of these I have felt seemed the most natural from my style, although they are not by best, they are the best among the rest of the poems. They are all written in various ways and have different characteristics which is the best of a poet because a poet is able to write different qualities of a poem, not just one.

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digital portfolio  

a bunch of poems put together

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