It's been a while since I've blogged. Truth. A whole week. I sit in front of a computer for at least 6 hours a day (it's for work!) and I don't even make time to blog... how terrible of me.
Besides that. So I have homework I need to do... lots of it. Lets summarize, shall we?
- an English essay: a 5-paragraph (not too bad) exploratory paper. I'm not sure of a subject even... yuck
- reading for the same English class
- reading for my New Testament class
- reading for my Business Law and Ethics class
- reading for my Managerial Accounting class
this is all supposed to be done by today when I go to class. Ask me if that's all gonna happen.
Really, ask me.
Seriously.
Yep, you guessed it. It's not.
I will probably skim the Accounting, and the English. Do a little research on the essay, and of course, really read the New Testament stuff. After I get off work I'll have from 2:20-3:20 to write my essay. So it should all work out. And I have plenty of time to read during work today, I just have to do it.
One more thing; I have to present a poem tomorrow in my public speaking class.
So... An Ode to Literary Masterpieces:
How Do I Love Thee?
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love with a passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints, I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life! and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love with a passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints, I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life! and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning,
And one of my very favorites;
I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings
A free bird leaps on the back
Of the wind and floats downstream
Till the current ends and dips his wing
In the orange suns rays
And dares to claim the sky.
But a BIRD that stalks down his narrow cage
Can seldom see through his bars of rage
His wings are clipped and his feet are tied
So he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings with a fearful trill
Of things unknown but longed for still
And his tune is heard on the distant hill for
The caged bird sings of freedom.
The free bird thinks of another breeze
And the trade winds soft through
The sighing trees
And the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright
Lawn and he names the sky his own.
But a caged BIRD stands on the grave of dreams
His shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
His wings are clipped and his feet are tied
So he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings with
A fearful trill of things unknown
But longed for still and his
Tune is heard on the distant hill
For the caged bird sings of freedom.
Of the wind and floats downstream
Till the current ends and dips his wing
In the orange suns rays
And dares to claim the sky.
But a BIRD that stalks down his narrow cage
Can seldom see through his bars of rage
His wings are clipped and his feet are tied
So he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings with a fearful trill
Of things unknown but longed for still
And his tune is heard on the distant hill for
The caged bird sings of freedom.
The free bird thinks of another breeze
And the trade winds soft through
The sighing trees
And the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright
Lawn and he names the sky his own.
But a caged BIRD stands on the grave of dreams
His shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
His wings are clipped and his feet are tied
So he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings with
A fearful trill of things unknown
But longed for still and his
Tune is heard on the distant hill
For the caged bird sings of freedom.
Maya Angelou
Mmm. I do like poetry. This makes me smile: compare the love poem you chose and my favorite love poem, "Litany" by Billy Collins. I think they both sum up our personalities pretty well. :)
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