Screw this; I’m not putting any effort into this. Let me read my book. Jared Poetry Anthology
Table of Contents: Dedication Vignette Freedom A Lost Snowflake by Jared P. Happy Birthday by Ted Kooser This isn’t a Sonnet by Jared P. Everything awesome Language by M.S Merwin As Time Passes, it gets Worse by Jared P. Books by Jared P. One Art by Elizabeth Bishop Effort Sick by Shel Silverstein I can’t I won’t I don’t by Jared P Hardwood Groves Robert Frost
My name is Jared. To me, the name is simple and straightforward, like an arrow. For my parents, my name, means the definition; ruler or commanding. But to me, the name Jared isn’t like me. Broken up it spells “ja” and “red”. “Ja” means yes in German and red is my most hated colour. I prefer variants of blue like the sky. But, the “ja” in my name does fit me though because I am willing to say yes to do a lot of things. Or perhaps I’m being too literal with my name. However, when broken up, it roughly fits me like 2 pieces of a puzzle that were never meant to go together. Perhaps my name should be different. It’s too different from me. It should be something that fits me. If you knew me back in the day, I was as injudicious as a dog. You told me to do something, I’d do it, even if it was to climb ancient, creaky trees. Or maybe I’m smart; at least my grades say so. But beyond the lazy days at school, I’m like a penguin; curious to discover the world. I ventured the grounds of science through the magic of Khan Academy. Grade 10 math? No problem! How about chemistry? Easy! Does Jared sound like a name to fit all of this awesomeness? Of course it isn’t. But what would be suitable? Something like Mathew, or Ryan? No, those won’t fit me. They never will, but why even care about our names? In the end, names are just mere labels for one’s identity. These labels define our society, our world and us. Without these labels things would be confusing, like having a lack of a language to communicate. Perhaps names, these labels, are important after all and if it were to be changed, you lose its past. The rich past identified with that name. That label. Yes, any other name would be no greater or no lesser than mine. I am me. I define my name, Jared.
This isn’t a Sonnet
By Jared. Above the triangle lands of rules and laws, where like anchors, one is tethered amongst the flows of influences. In the sand, boat through the canals of freedom, be fast!
Trust the hopeless, believe those faithful things, they will rise without a hand, but perfect soldiers of the river will bear on one. Sing, the song of skies, fly free like an insect.
Through the canals of freedom. Grab a hand, help those in need. Fight, against the soldiers, disband their pride, stomp their swords. Take a stand, fuel the rebellion, hate without sympathy and forever and ever keep the fires. Toss the body in prison, jail it for eternity, but there is no such place for the mind. Where rules are tossed out the window, where one believes in other causes, but in all the worlds, this isn’t a sonnet.
Jared’s poem “This isn’t a Sonnet” is quite ironic with a very powerful message. The title eases one into thinking that this poem is a joke, hence the name, but right from the start, metaphors and similes are launched at you in an extremely serious tone. Adding onto the 1st stanza, this stanza follows the criteria for a shakespearean sonnet and the second stanza follows the same criteria. Jared used so many metaphors in his poem, giving the poem a very deep meaning of being free/fighting against the absurd rules. An example of a metaphor used is “In the sand,/boat through the canals of freedom”. This metaphor compares the difficulty of being freed from the influences of others to boating through sand. In the third stanza, it breaks the requirements for a shakespearean sonnet with the last line of the stanza having 24 syllables, but does follow the proper rhyme scheme. Overall, the tone is extremely serious, as in it is about one hating the stupidity of rules and fighting against it. Lastly, the poem ends reminding the reader of the title, on how it isn’t a sonnet
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