Thanksgiving Poem

T'was the night before Thanksgiving,
When all through the kitchen
Not a spoon was stirring, not even a spork.
The cornucopias were hung by the microwave with care,
In hope that St. Turkey soon would be there.

The chicklins were nestled all snug in their coop
While visions of grasshopper-cakes danced in their heads.
And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our wings for a long winters nap.

Even If You Weren't My Father

The first thing that I noticed about the poem by Camillo Sbarbaro, "Even If You Weren't My Father," was that it seems to be translated from a different language. On the Internet, the poem is in a different language and everything about Sbarbaro is in a different language as well. That seems very different to me.

This poem seems very heart felt as well. Most authors don't seem as blunt as Sbarbaro is in this poem. They are normally more abstract and metaphoric about their topic, especially about families. But Sbarbaro comes right out and says how much he loves his father and how much he means to him. I also like how he broke up the poem in memories. The first one showed his love and dedication towards his children. The second stanza frightened me in the fact that the father was angrily chasing his little girl however. In no situation does that seem all that normal to me. But it then shows his compassion and warm heart towards his daughter as well.

My favorite part about the poem is how Sbarbaro repeats the line, "Father, even if you weren't my father, were you an utter stranger,..." It starts off the poem and ends it nicely.

Those winter Sundays

The first thing I noticed about this poem was the title. Winter is not capitalized. I don't know if that is just a typo or if there is a significance to that. Maybe it is trying to emphasise the word Sundays so not having winter capitalized draws attention towards Sundays. Or it could be the other way around so the attention is supposed to be drawn to winter. Either way it caught my eye.

After reading the poem, I immediately thought of my own dad. He is a contractor and construction worker so he endures hard labor all throughout the weekdays as well. He is also the one to dig us out of our driveway when it snows and get the corn stove going (our cheaper form of heat). I always stay in bed on Sundays until he says the breakfast he has prepared for us is ready. I feel that through the first 3 stanzas, I can really relate to what the author is talking about.

Once I got to the last stanza, I was somewhat confused. I think the author is saying that his dad's work was rough and lonely. I'm not sure if he is refering to the hard labor and taking care of his kids. I get confused by the word offices but that is the best guess I have.

Acquainted with the Night

The first thing I noticed about this poem was the fact that it was by Robert Frost. I have read his poem "The Road Not Taken" a million times in different classes. It is interesting that in this poem he talks a lot about walking and taking different roads just like in the other poem. He is known for his distributive writings on rural areas especially in New England. He does this to examine complex social and philosophical themes. Frost is a very educated man and has experienced life in many areas. He has traveled around the nation and taught at a lot of places he has been at.

I also thought of an insomniac when i first saw the title. They become very acquainted with the night since they are never able to fall asleep. I like the way the first 5 lines of the poem all start with I and flow together nicely. Also how each line is its own thought for the first two stanzas.