Lena+Bruce

A poem is never finished, only abandoned. ~Paul Valéry

My name is Lena and here is my different types of poetry created by...Me!

Ode to Mi Perro (Ode to my dog)
Ode to Mi Perro White, like snow Red was the color of his nose his name was snowy and he was mine He was my first dog and I loved him his fur soft as the cover that he would sleep on in my home. he wouldnt stay there long because he loved outside to much .he was the outsider in the summer but was popular in the winter.the second most loved thing was food in his mind mostly the gunky kind.While his tummy was warm with food.He kept me warm as well when we slept.I miss him.rasied as a puppy to a dog.He misses me.

For the Love of Disney
By:Lena Bruce

Instead of reading books, I watch Tv Instead of going to the Saint Havens When nothing is on watch the Disney I sit at home and I watch that so raven

Channel Surfing is getting kind of wack Medicals shows are hard to understand I get comfty and watch Suite Life on Deck House, Lost, and Deal or No Deal should be banned

Knowing that I will always be happy Watching this channel is like watching dreams Channels like Nick will always be crappy Disney makes channels lose their self-esteem

Thanks Disney for never being a disgrace It's time for Wizards of waverly Place

The Poet I Chose was Pablo Neruda:

I want you to know one thing.
You know how this is: if I look at the crystal moon, at the red branch of the slow autumn at my window, if I touch near the fire the impalpable ash or the wrinkled body of the log, everything carries me to you, as if everything that exists, aromas, light, metals, were little boats that sail toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now, if little by little you stop loving me I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly you forget me do not look for me, for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad, the wind of banners that passes through my life, and you decide to leave me at the shore of the heart where I have roots, remember that on that day, at that hour, I shall lift my arms and my roots will set off to seek another land.

But if each day, each hour, you feel that you are destined for me with implacable sweetness, if each day a flower climbs up to your lips to seek me, ah my love, ah my own, in me all that fire is repeated, in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten, my love feeds on your love, beloved, and as long as you live it will be in your arms without leaving mine

XVII (I do not love you...)
I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz, or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off. I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers; thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance, risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride; so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you, so close that your hand on my chest is my hand, so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

The Question
Love, a question has destroyed you.

I have come back to you from thorny uncertainty.

I want you straight as the sword or the road.

But you insist on keeping a nook of shadow that I do not want.

My love, understand me, I love all of you, from eyes to feet, to toenails, inside, all the brightness, which you kept.

It is I, my love, who knocks at your door. It is not the ghost, it is not the one who once stopped at your window. I knock down the door: I enter your life: I come to live in your soul: you cannot cope with me.

You must open door to door, you must obey me, you must open your eyes so that I may search in them, you must see how I walk with heavy steps along all the roads that, blind, were waiting for me.

Do not fear, I am yours, but I am not the passenger or the beggar, I am your master, the one you were waiting for, and now I enter your life, no more to leave it, love, love, love, but to stay.

__Analyzing a Poem__ Pablo’s tone in this poem is very settle he is telling about a women who he may love and anyway possible they belong together and hopefully at no given time she will never forget anything they ever had of have. He used a lot of imagery in Pablo poem, "were little boats that sail toward those isles of yours that wait for me". At first a reader would think "dirty" way leading to her legs, but try to go deeper and the boat was maybe symbolizes other men trying to reach what Pablo had with that women. Kind of like a race. This poem is great because it is not just about getting someone to love him, but he is saying that if you don't love me as much as I love you then I guess we don't have anything. Pablo symbolizes love as “ the shadow and the soul”. He makes his poems not as obvious to the reader to find the meaning so easily. The reader knows he is talking about love, but he wants them to realize what kind of love it is. He hides the messages inside his poems, “I love you as the plant that never blooms”. He may find that just saying “I love you” is too cliché and knows when and when not to use it in his poems. The Question Pablo pulled an edgy side on his poem, it was very demanding, “ I am not the passenger or the beggar, I am your master”. He shows in all his poems that he has a passion for love, but he will never admit to the “mushy” part of love,yet he is showing in all his poems that there is more to love than saying “I love you”. Readers may react to this as a little strange or weird, “It is I, my love, who knocks at your door. It is not the ghost, it is not the one who once stopped at your window. I knock down the door: I enter your life: I come to live in your soul: you cannot cope with me”, however he gets the audience attention and more than the love poems but he is putting his poems in your life and dig deep down and maybe reach a point where you come to realize something about yourself.
 * “I Want You to Know One Thing.” **
 * XVII (I Do Not Love You…) **