Block Three= Mary Moriarty

In Moriatys poem she says "I lost my mother’s watch. And look! my last, or next-to-last, of three loved houses went. The art of losing isn’t hard to master." She starts out by explaining one detail that she had lost, and then says how another tragedy had occured. When she said "And look!" it kind of made you wonder what was going to happen. Even though we actually couldnt look, metaphorically, we could see where the poem was going. "Lose something every day. Accept the fluster of lost door keys, the hour badly spent. The art of losing isn’t hard to master." She says that we lose something everyday, and that the art of losing isnt hard to master. She kind of made me think about my last day, and maybe about something I may have misplaced. This poem kind of makes you think about your life, and notice all of the things you have lost.

Seeing?

Seeing isnt believing, believing is seeing
instances that none will accept
to be questioned until sought.

Seeing things new
Now accepting the possibility.
Seeing isnt believing, believing is seeing.

Going farther and farther:
mystical, monsters, aliens.
Believable to the crazy

Seeing these stories.
Fake! We all say
Seeing isnt believing, believing is seeing

Seeing these sights
doesnt need to happen
We can believe, if you want.

-Even seeing the unseeable,
I do believe in the unbelieveable
Seeing isnt believing, believing is seeing.
Seeing creates beliefs?
My beliefs create sight!
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"We left before I had time
to comfort you." The form of this first line is very different, but has meaning. The skip after time, kind of is not just telling you, but is showing you that she didnt have him. "I wanted
to stem the burning waters running over me like tiny
rivers down my face and legs, but at the same time I was reaching out." This form is kind of jumpy. It's very difficult for me to follow, and I dont like it. When I read these lines, I cant comprehend all that is going on because my mind is to focused on finding the next line. I do like when she says that the waters running over her like tiny rivers because it is very descriptive. I can imagine water trickeling down her arms in seperate rivers all going down, but finding different ways to get there. The overall form of this poem is very distracting. I like the metaphors and descriptions she uses, but it's so hard to follow and appreciate these descriptions when your mind is trying to keep with these breaks.

Family Poem- Boston

The endless trip
8 year old Taylor
Aquariums, My obsession
Marine fish fascinated my life
My family beside me
watching my over excited face
overwhelmed

My family
always beside me
to guide
and to hold.
Through the packed
quincy market,
we weeved

We find our exit
out of the crowd,
we found the ocean.
My first time.
My obsession in my eyes
I stood fascinated
obsessed
wondering,
why I loved the ocean blue?
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I cant rate the speaker because I wasnt there