Analysis Of The Poem After You My - opinion you
This poem features the theme of the agony of captivity. It is a song that features the mental pain of a slave. The poet presents contrasting images to feature the theme of freedom vs enslavement. Moreover, the repetition in each stanza emphasizes the pain of the slave who was detached from his motherland Senegal, a West African country. He was deported to Virginia. This poem is told from his perspective. In this poem, there are a total of three sections. Each section presents a set of images to create a contrast. In the first stanza, the poet refers specifically to the shore of Senegal that the slave has seen while being ransacked of freedom. Analysis Of The Poem After You MyAnalysis Of The Poem After You My Video
The brightest stars are the first to explode. Also hearts.
The mockingbird is really ashamed of its own feeble song lost beneath all those he has to imitate. Even Ethiopia is splitting off from Africa to become its own continent. Last year it moved 10 feet.
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This will take a million years. Parmenedes transported himself above the beaten path of the stars to find the real that was beyond time. The words you left are still smoldering like the cigarette left in my ashtray as if it were a dying star. The thin thread of its smoke is caught on the ceiling.
When love is threatened, the heart crackles with anger like kindling. How many times have we hurt each other not knowing?
Destiny wears her clothes inside out. Each desire is a memory of the future.
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That is why our dreams are the most real thing we possess. My logic here is made of your smells, your thighs, your kiss, your words. I collect stars but have no place to put them. You take my breath away only to give back a purer one. The way you dance creates a new constellation.
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Off the Thai coast they have discovered a new undersea world with sharks that walk on their fins. In Indonesia, a kangaroo that lives in a tree. Why is the shadow I cast always yours? The real is a sunset over a shanty by the river. The keys that lock the door also open it. When we shut out each other, nothing seems real except the empty caves of our hearts, yet how arrogant to think our problems finally matter when thousands of children are bayoneted in the Congo this year. How incredible to think of those soldiers never having loved. Nothing ever ends. Will this?]
These are all fairy tales!
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