Are there any figures of speech in the poem "Dreams" by Paul Laurence Dunbar?
WHAT dreams we have and how they fly
Like rosy clouds across the sky;
Of wealth, of fame, of sure success,
Of love that comes to cheer and bless;
And how they wither, how they fade,
The waning wealth, the jilting jade --
The fame that for a moment gleams,
Then flies forever, --dreams, ah --dreams!
O burning doubt and long regret
O tears with which our eyes are wet,
Heart-throbs, heart-aches, the glut of pain,
The somber cloud, the bitter rain,
You were not of those dreams -- ah! well,
Your full fruition who can tell?
Wealth, fame, and love, ah! love that beams
Upon our souls, all dreams -- ah! dreams.
First off, let me say that I actually attended the middle school named for Paul Laurence Dunbar...anywho..down to it.
There are definitely multiple figures of speech in this poem. For example, dreams can't "fly", so it's not literal. It's a figure of speech. I don't think I can name them all, but I can definitely tell you there are figures of speech present.
Where shall the frogs go?
I first will tell, your random demure dreams
Different kind, richness, wealth arrests
Vanishing forests, eliminating state gleams
Confessions distressed, unruly realm attests
Perspectives cold, shivering
Flickered eyes, descending
Prospect sold, damning
Flushed cheeks, pretending
Along a dirt road, here is another dream
Here’s the message, deliver it world
Let flying frogs have more trees to live in
I first will tell, your random demure dreams
All suggestions are welcomed. Thank you.
What should I add more? How good is this?
People got confused between the inevitable emptiness created by the illusions of wealth and the true meaning of the American Dream. F. Scott Fitzgerald paints a convincing portrait of waning social virtue by portraying the nefarious effects of materialism created by the wealth-driven culture of the time through the use of literary devices and characters from his novel. Gatsby belongs to these people, people who believed in achieving their fortune through money and attempted to be rich in order to fulfill their dreams. The author uses his writing to point out a harsh reality of people and their vicious minds. The lessons emphasized by this novel can still fit anywhere in the society today.
Hello. I Live in white middle class suburbs. I have most of the material possessions i want. Yet I am bleak and terrible...I have no happiness. I am not stupid enough to believe like most people that material wealth is the key to happiness. My life is spent sitting and thinking or doing something on the TV. Ipods, Xbox, TV, all these things do nothing to me. I am not entertained by these trivial stupid artifacts. I want to collide worlds and illuminate galaxies. My consciousness is vast and cold, much too large to be contained within this simple fantasy that i live in day to day. I am tortured and hurt...like a god put into a dogs body.
Those around me view me in scorn...they return my wisdom with selfish hateful insults. I have no one, and Am utterly alone. For as long as i can remember i have been alone, in every sense possible. I have had no one to talk to but myself, which i do profusely, and the trees, my only friends now. Most of these ignorant Human creatures want their unimpressive little technological toys and houses. new cars and new this and new that. Most people would give anything for a large sum of wealth. Yet all i have ever wanted more than my own life was the touch of grass on my feet...trees blowing in a cool breeze...and the soft hands of someone beautiful. I would give away everything i own for that...every cent and the clothing on my back...I cry at the thought. yet all i have is the cold unsympathetic walls around me and the knife in my hand. I yearn for the affection I have never even begun to feel. never a hug. never a caress. never a smile. no one there to hold me but my own bleeding arms, as it has been for eternity. I am not chemically unbalanced. I am genuinely tortured.
I am of the forest. I will become Earth as i was made from Earth. Yet there are no trees...only concrete and metal. I cry for the trees...yet No final escape from all that haunts me, for even the trees I see are fake. Seeds planted by Human hands.WILLED to their spots by human minds. FAKE. FAKE WILDERNESS. There is no solace in something that is fake.
Nothing to do, nothing to see. only concrete and the voices that taunt me. nothing to hope for, nothing to dream for. What path can be avoided who's end is fixed by those who control you, from thousands of leagues away? no soft skin to feel, no sweet voice to hear, only the black hatred in my soul and the blood on my body. There is no salvation. there is only suffering. I am in purgatory. there is no escape, only to sleep forever, which does not bring relief. you have to be alive to feel relief. Yet my continuous wish is to help those around me, to enlighten and teach those who are less off, yet no opportunity exists. I cannot travel. I have no money. I am stuck here, on this Earth-Hell. surrounded by violent, crude monkeys without compassion nor mercy. No friendly Beings to consort with or talk to. Only myself and the wall. I talk to the wall always. the wall will listen.
For too long I have suffered as an addict, falsely tripping my life and money away. I go to school. I don't get paid. I would rather do hard manual prison labor all day, because at least then i get something out of it. You do not learn in school. Nor are you prepared for life. You are deluded and brainwashed. Made into mindless sheep, fodder for the governments and weak pantheons of this world.
Don't you tell me wait till you see the real world. I have experience things that would destroy lesser minds and make you crumble into madness. I am strong to take this torture. But not invincible...my strength is waning...the candle in my soul flickers. My willpower is fading as I am eroded into nothing. For long i have stood as a bulwark of sanity and reason to the world...spreading good will where i can...yet now I am nothing, fading into madness...before long madness will be all that is left. My mind is being filled with demonic voices and thoughts of murder...the will to kill fills my veins, and my eternal light cries to me...asking why I have become dark. I answer I want to destroy the world. To plunge it in nuclear fire and scatter it like dust in the wind. with a heart-chilling cry of despair, the light forsakes me forever. and the guilt arises. I am not Evil, or dark, Yet now even my precious inner light is gone...
I am empty. I have no one. I have nothing. I am nothing. I mean nothing to anyone. I cant move. My body is small and weak. My consciousness is tortured and pained. My soul is terribly alone...more alone than the center of the largest, coldest, most bleak, empty void in the universe. All I hear is scorn and my malicious thoughts. All i see is the wall. All i feel is pain. All i taste is blood and an unquenchable thirst. All i smell is irremovable filth. I am in Hell. There is no salvation. And now, the only thing i ever had for my own, my deepest most private inner possession...my light...has left me forever...
i need to find one from the internet and bring it in to class tomorrow...can anybody give me some poems that they know or any sites where i can find them from? thank you