One short sleep past, we wake eternally And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.
I would like to refer this as an imagination, its like having no death in existence which is practically impossible. Looking more into the line the speaker actually predicts the end -just like since everyone has to experience death, then one day death will also experience death
Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men, And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell, And poppy or charms can make us sleep as well And better than thy stroke; why swell'st thou then? One short sleep past, we wake eternally And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.
This lines kind of puts death as a person, it also relates it to the painful times in peoples lives, it compares death to a slave that works for fate, in humans life death is basically what everyone has to go by- which has to come to past by fate.
From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be, Much pleasure; then from thee much more must flow, And soonest our best men with thee do go, Rest of their bones, and soul's delivery.
This line kind of explains what happens with death, or after death.
Death, be not proud, though some have called thee Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so; For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
This line feels confrontational, the poet makes it seem like a face to face conversation
Holy Sonnets: Death, be not proud By John Donne
The title makes me think the poem is going to be about a lamentation, the poet probably feels threatned by death then trying to be strong, trying to claim his right to life with death ... Due to the fact that the poet is a cleric, i believe the poet will try relating the poem to bible scriptures
Straight out the friggin dungeons of rapWhere fake negroes don't make it backI don't know how to start this stuff, yo
He aslo made it like a testimony for him how he scaled through to where he is.
I never sleep, cause sleep is the cousin of death
on this line particularly i think he refers to his fright, always have to be at alert even while sleeping cause no one can tell the time they as going to get busted
Once they caught us off-guard, the Mac-10 was in the grass andI ran like a cheetah with thoughts of an assassinPick the Mac up, told brothers, "Back up, " the Mac spitLead was hitting negroes, one ran, I made him backflipHeard a few chicks scream, my arm shook, couldn't lookGave another squeeze, heard it click, "yo, my stuff is stuck"Try to cock it, it wouldn't shoot, now I'm in dangerFinally pulled it back and saw 3 bullets caught up in the chamberSo now I'm jetting to the building lobby
This i think is his own personal experience asides the general one that ofcourse everyone has to survive to scale through whatever difficulties they were passing by
It also talks about trying to escape from police with drugs which i assume its part of surviving and escaping danger, trying hard to protect their lives
eah yeah, aiyyo black it's time (word?)(Word, it's time negro?)Yeah, it's time man (aight negro, begin)Straight out the friggin dungeons of rapWhere fake negroes don't make it backI don't know how to start this stuff, yo Rappers, I monkey flip 'em with the funky rhythmI be kicking, musician, inflictin' compositionOf pain, I'm like Scarface smelling amphetaminesHolding an M-16, see with the pen I'm extreme, nowBullet holes left in my peepholes, I'm suited up in street clothesHand me a nine and I'll defeat foesY'all know my steelo with or without the airplayI keep some E&J, sitting bent up in the stairwayOr either on the corner betting Grants with the cee-lo champsLaughing at baseheads trying to sell some broken ampsG-packs get off quick, forever negroes talk stuffReminiscing about the last time the Task Force flippedNegroes be running through the block shootin'Time to start the revolution, catch a body, head for HoustonOnce they caught us off-guard, the Mac-10 was in the grass andI ran like a cheetah with thoughts of an assassinPick the Mac up, told brothers, "Back up, " the Mac spitLead was hitting negroes, one ran, I made him backflipHeard a few chicks scream, my arm shook, couldn't lookGave another squeeze, heard it click, "yo, my stuff is stuck"Try to cock it, it wouldn't shoot, now I'm in dangerFinally pulled it back and saw 3 bullets caught up in the chamberSo now I'm jetting to the building lobbyAnd it was full of children probably couldn't see as high as I be(So what you saying?) It's like the game ain't the sameGot younger negroes pulling the triggers, bringing fame to their nameAnd claim some corners, crews without guns are gonersIn broad daylight, stickup kids: they run up on us4-5's and gauges, Macs, in factSame negroes will catch a back-to-back, snatching your slacks in blackThere was a snitch on the block getting negroes knockedSo hold your stash 'til the drug price dropI know this crackhead who said she's got to do drugs it's all she's gotAnd if it's good, she'll bring you customers in measuring potsBut yo, you gotta slide on a vacation, inside informationKeeps large negroes erasin' and their wives basin'It drops deep as it does in my breathI never sleep, cause sleep is the cousin of deathBeyond the walls of intelligence, life is definedI think of crime when I'm in a New York state of mind New York state of mindNew York state of mindNew York state of mindNew York state of mindNew York state of mind Be having dreams that I'm a gangsta; drinking Moets, holding TecsMaking sure the cash came correct, then I steppedInvestments in stocks, sewing up the blocks to sell drugsWinning gunfights with mega-copsBut just a negro walking with his finger on the triggerMake enough figures until my pockets get biggerI ain't the type of brother made for you to start testin'Give me a Smith & Wesson, I have negroes undressin'Thinking of cash flow, religion and shelterWhenever frustrated, I'm a hijack DeltaIn the P.J.'s, my blend tape plays, bullets are straysYoung girls are grazed, each block is like a mazeFull of black rats trapped, plus the Island is packedFrom what I hear in all the stories when my peoples come back, blackI'm living where the nights is jet-blackThe fiends fight to get drugs I just max, I dream I can sit backAnd lamp like Capone, with drug scripts sewnOr the legal luxury life, rings flooded with stones, homesI got so many rhymes I don't think I'm too saneLife is parallel to Hell but I must maintainAnd be prosperous, though we live dangerous, cops could justArrest me, blaming us, we're held like hostagesIt's only right that I was born to use micsAnd the stuff that I write is even tougher than lifeI'm taking rappers to a new plateau, through rap slowMy rhymin' is a vitamin held without a capsuleThe smooth criminal on beat breaksNever put me in your box if your stuff eats tapesThe city never sleeps, full of villains and creepsThat's where I learned to do my hustle had to scuffle with freaksI'm an addict for sneakers, 20s of beliefs and broads with beepersIn the streets I can greet ya, about cigars I teach yaInhale deep like the words of my breathI never sleep, cause sleep is the cousin of deathI lay puzzle as I backtrack to earlier timesNothing's equivalent to the New York state of mind New York state of mindNew York state of mindNew York state of mindNew York state of mindNew York state of mind Nasty NasNasty NasNasty Nas.
From the begining i feel like its a sort of survival place, the writer talks about streets and how its like- from the word streets i feel its talks about the difficulty of surviving the especially for those referred as negroes.
Forgive me they were delicious so sweet and so cold
Though the writer asks for forgiveness he still speaks of it with non regrets so even if he was going to be punished for what he did he was practically ready for whatever came after it.
have eaten the plums that were in the icebox and which you were probably saving for breakfast
The writer here only confesses what he has done in a nonchalant manner knowing that the owner would pribably do nothing to him
The title sounds more of a confession While reading the poem is like confessing and apologizing
A tiger under a rainbow at nightfall. She burns like a shot glass of vodka. She burns like a field of poppies at the edge of a rain forest. She rises like dragonsmoke to my nostrils. She burns like a burning bush driven by a godawful wind.
This further explains hoe severe the punishment was, how bad the view was and the writers comparison to it
We stand with our hands hanging at our sides, while she burns like a sack of dry ice. She burns like oil on water. She burns like a cattail torch dipped in gasoline. She glows like the fat tip of a banker's cigar, silent as quicksilver.
The stand could be related to a troop of soldiers standing and watching a person being punished
The cry I bring down from the hills belongs to a girl still burning inside my head. At daybreak she burns like a piece of paper. She burns like foxfire in a thigh-shaped valley. A skirt of flames dances around her at dusk.
This explains the pains of the poet, he also explains where his tears were coming from.he also explains what he picture's the girl to be like this could be related to seeing one's loved one suffer
You And I Are Disappearing--Bjorn Hakansson By Yusef Komunyakaa
Its is like leaving, loosing the stand of where someone is at -probably loosing focus or moving out of the existence in a particular thing.
Or does it explode?
he thinks if it to be something that's probably just going to explode and disappear forever.
Maybe it just sags like a heavy load
the writer at the end of the poem probably realizes his long wild imagination and asks if it is just going to continue to be like that and never finds the correct answer to all his questions.
Or crust and sugar over— like a syrupy sweet?
then he relates it to something that will continue to make one happy for so long
Does it stink like rotten meat?
the poet thinks or relate it to a rotten meet because of how much it can baffle someone and irritates ones system for long
Or fester like a sore— And then run?
the poet also thinks about it as something that will never get off the mind and continue to hurt one for the rest of their lives
Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun?
its like a false hope that even before the arrival it already shattered the heart
Its about ones anxiety over something postponed. or a dream that's not fully accomplished. the poet imagines both good ans bad things that could happen.
The poem is like a praise,in respect of a person or something-statue. The poem adds its own meanings into the statue, from the first line of the poem one can tell that its as comparison and not a very big statue or a powerful person. .
I think asides the common fact that she cant dance ... it could also means she cant risk what she doesn't have ... something one would never do
The poem speaks about loneliness, the writer is the only one in the world of the poem-leading to the writer fighting alone. Fright in the poem refers to the writer being alone not knowing her faith of survival...wanting to give up even when there is no room for it.<br> call for power refers to the writer calling for enough strength to overcome and be free that is why it probably related to a prisoner.
it about calling out for help to fight something scary-dark,asking for enough power to be able to conquer it
while trying to catch a hook shot kiss, they try grabbing different things to be able to get to it cause it didn't drop.
It is about an incident that happens within a short period