William Butler Yeats’ The Magi Essay -- The Magi Essays

William Butler Yeats’ The Magi   Ã‚  Ã‚   Briefly stated, William Butler Yeats’ The Magi is a poem about people who, upon reaching old age, or perhaps just older age, turn to God and the spiritual world for fulfillment and happiness. We are told in the footnote to this poem that, after writing The Dolls, Yeats looked up into the blue sky and imagined that he could see "stiff figures in procession". Perhaps after imagining these figures, Yeats debated within himself whom these pictures could represent. Yeats then went on to write The Magi, a poem which is full of symbolism, a literary technique that he greatly valued.   Ã‚  Ã‚   In the first two lines of the poem, Yeats writes "Now as at all times I can see in the mind’s eye, / In their stiff, painted clothes, the pale unsatisfied ones". Yeats is saying that when he looks into the blue sky, towards heaven above, he is reminded of all those people who have spent their lives "playing the game". These people have achieved great success and have many wonderful things, such as their "stiff, painted clothes," but still they feel as if their lives are incomplete. Despite everything they own and the pride they feel in what they have accomplished, they are not quite happy with their lives as a whole.   Ã‚  Ã‚   The fourth line of the poem, "With all their ancient faces like rain-beaten stones," clarifies for me that Yeats is talking about people of an older generation. He is certainly not talking about unsatisfied twenty- or even thirtysomethings. Yeats uses simile in this line to describe faces that are well worn. These faces belong to people who have experienced the stresses and strains of life. They are no longer vibrant and distinct, but are instead bland and unremarkable. These are people who ... ...and successful and are turning to God for solace. They are choosing to honor and revere him in the hopes of finding everlasting peace and happiness.   Ã‚  Ã‚   Perhaps Yeats wrote this poem out of frustration with his own life. Maybe he felt that he also was one of the "pale, unsatisfied ones". He may have been struggling with the strains brought upon him by success. He may also have been going through a time of indecision in regards to his own spiritual life. Whatever the reason for his writing The Magi, Yeats wrote a poem rich in symbolism and imagery that many people could then, and can now, relate to on a very personal level.    References Ellmann, Richard and Robert O'Clair, eds. The Norton Anthology of Modern Poetry, 2nd edition.   New York:   W. W.  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚   Norton, 1988. Urdang, Laurence, ed.   The American Century Dictionary.   New York:   Oxford UP, 1995.

Original Course work †Urban Myths Essay

The scream rang through the trees. Pounding footsteps thudded their way through the wood. Twigs snapped and cracked like brittle bones. She slowed down to a trot, trying to make sense of where she was. Her ears pricked. Listening for following footsteps. Realising she had been holding her breath, she gasped and air flooded her body. Only half an hour before she had been sat perfectly happy with her boyfriend. Her vision glazed over as silent drops fell to the ground, remembering how Josh had got out of the car to investigate a noise they had heard. She sank down to the bottom of the tree, as she recalled how ten minutes later, when he hadn’t returned, she had got out, only to find his pale form hanging from the tree above. Blood stained the top of the car where it had spilt from his neck, draping down over his shoulder like a carpet of scarlet. Whoever done this mustn’t be too far away. They could be watching her, waiting for her†¦ â€Å"The bodies of two teenagers have been found in Thornby Woods early this morning by a local dog walker. The bodies have been described as horrifically mutilated and the result of a brutal murder. At the moment police are investigating leads including the name â€Å"Aidan† spelt in blood on the roof of the car. Hopefully this will bring the monster to justice.† â€Å"I can’t believe something like that could happen here, it’s just so unbelievable†, said Diana. The others nodded in agreement. The four were sat around a table in their local cafà ¯Ã‚ ¿Ã‚ ½. There was Diana, Jack and the twins, Kerry and Kevin. The twins with their unique coppery red hair and blue startling eyes, stood out from Diana and Jack with his plain name, and fairly plain features. â€Å"You know what this sounds like†, said Jack then hesitated, â€Å"the urban legend about the guy in the car with his girlfriend†. The others looked at him. â€Å"But they’re made up stories, they would never come true†, argued Diana. The twins, who had a habit of speaking in unison, started speaking but then fell silent, as the television in the corner of the cafà ¯Ã‚ ¿Ã‚ ½ flashed on again and more about the murders was broadcast. Later that night, Kerry was sat in the library. The essay she was trying to write was starting to give her a headache. The ticking clock, mounted on the wall, showed her it was nearly midnight. As she stifled a yawn, she pulled the books shut and gathered up her stuff. Silently, she made her way down the deserted corridors and up the stairs to her room. When she arrived she turned the key slowly in the lock, so as not to wake her roommate, Stacie. She climbed into bed and her eyes shut as her head rested on the pillow. The next morning, sunlight streamed through the windows. It was a Monday morning and everyone was trying to stay in bed as long as possible. Suddenly, the silence was broken as a scream rose from Kerry’s room. Kevin and Diana were first there. As they pushed the door open, they saw Stacie’s dead body surrounded by bloodstained sheets. Kerry was whimpering softly, slouched against the bed. Kevin noticed the mirror out of the corner of his eye. Smeared across the glass in blood-red lipstick were the words, â€Å"Bet you’re glad you didn’t turn on the light†. It was signed ‘Aidan’. Kevin rushed over to Kerry, trying to comfort her, glancing over his shoulder at Diana. She stood like a statue, a shocked expression spreading across her face. Jack came rushing into the room. â€Å"What’s happened†¦?†, he broke off. He had seen the body. The four friends sat bewildered, silently hugging each other. Kerry couldn’t concentrate. Everyone had thought it best if she went to her lessons and tried to forget about it, but she couldn’t. Her mind kept going back to that morning when she had opened her eyes. The first thing she had seen was the body. The bloody image flashed before her. Finally, after what had seemed like hours, the end of college bell rang. Kerry slowly made her way over to the cafà ¯Ã‚ ¿Ã‚ ½ where she was going to meet Jack and Kevin. When she arrived, no one else was there, so she pulled a magazine out of her bag. As she did so, a plain envelope came with it and dropped to the floor. Curiously, she tore it open and jerked the paper out. â€Å"You’re next†, it spelt out, in carefully cut out letters from a newspaper headline. Kerry crammed the paper back in the envelope, as Jack and Kevin came through the door. â€Å"You feeling any better?† asked Jack, concerned. Kerry nodded her head and had to force a smile. â€Å"You know, this murder also sounds like an urban legend, don’t you think?† Jack continued, ignoring Kevin’s warning look. â€Å"Who do you suppose is behind it?† Drew, the class swot, came over. â€Å"Have you not heard? The police are looking for a man with the name Aidan, round about 20 years old†, he recited, sounding like a news reporter. â€Å"Why?† asked Kerry, turning her head towards Drew. â€Å"The name has been found at both the murder scenes, so it’s likely it was left by the killer† â€Å"But I don’t know anyone called Aidan†, said Kerry puzzled. â€Å"Could be an outside job, it doesn’t have to be anyone on campus. Do you know anyone that would do something that sick?† â€Å"I suppose it makes it more likely to be some lunatic,† half-whispered Kerry, but Drew had already turned away and had started telling the news to the table next to them. â€Å"Hey guys.† Their conversation was interrupted by Diana’s arrival, which was always noticeable. Her slim figure and blonde hair made her popular with the boys. She joined them at the table. â€Å"So has everyone has a nice day?† she said with a smile. The others just looked at her. Kerry looked as though she was about to cry. â€Å"Oh sorry, I forgot about this morning,† she answered cheerfully. Kerry’s chair scraped back as she got up to go. She pulled her bag onto her shoulder and left without saying a word. â€Å"What’s up with her today?† questioned Diana. â€Å"Well maybe she’s upset ‘cos one of her friends was murdered right underneath her nose and she found the body!† exclaimed Jack. Kerry had gone to the library. She couldn’t stand being in her room after what had happened. As she sat, staring at the open book infront of her, but not taking one word in, a voice called out her name. Turning sharply around, thinking it could easily be the killer, she saw, to her relief, it was Jack. â€Å"I just came to see if you were all right.† He muttered his apology for scaring her. â€Å"Yeah. I’m okay†¦ well sort of,† she smiled back. â€Å"I just thought, well Diana wasn’t exactly being sympathetic before and when you walked out, you looked upset to me. I though someone had better come after you.† He paused and looked at her, â€Å"You sure you’re all right?† Kerry looked away and sighed. â€Å"Well not exactly, I got this letter, someone must have planted it in my bag.† She handed over the letter to Jack. His eyes scanned the letter and his expression turned into that of alarm. â€Å"You really should take this to the police,† he said, his eyes piercing her own with serious anxiety. She turned her head so she wouldn’t have to stare into his hazel eyes, so caring, so tender, so†¦ â€Å"What’s the point?† her voice shuddered, â€Å"It doesn’t mean its necessarily from him. It’s probably some dumb kid playing a sick joke to upset me† â€Å"Well, if you’re sure. But come on, don’t you think you should call it a day?† Jack said, standing up and taking Kerry’s bag. â€Å"Where am I going to sleep? I mean, I don’t want to sleep in my room tonight,† she shivered. â€Å"I’m sure you can share Diana’s room. Come on we’ll go up there now.† Kerry followed Jack and together they walked up the three flights of stairs to Diana’s room. Ten minutes later, Kerry sat on the spare bed, while Jack said his good byes. Finally they were left alone. â€Å"Look I’m really sorry about before you know. I really shouldn’t have said that,† apologised Diana, humbly. â€Å"Its okay,† said Kerry smiling at her friend and laying back on the bed. A large sigh rose from her chest. She looked around the room, so much different from her own. The walls were a soft shade of purple with various famous prints dotted around. Cream curtains hung at the windows, drawn back gracefully, allowing the orange, golden sunlight to stream in. Her eyes moved around the room and stopped at the desk placed in the corner. There, lying on a pile of schoolbooks, was a newspaper, maybe a day or two old. Kerry could clearly see off-cuts and torn pages nestled on top. â€Å"Have you been working on a project?† she asked, the sarcasm stung her words. â€Å"What do you mean, project†¦?† Diana’s eyes followed her gaze. Her laugh rang through the room. â€Å"Yeah, it’s a project all right.† Kerry instantly sat up on the bed and turned to face Diana. â€Å"You†¦Ã¢â‚¬  she spat accusingly. Diana let out a jeering laugh. â€Å"I wondered how long it would take you to realise,† she half laughed, half spoke. â€Å"Realise what exactly? That you sent me that letter? How could you be so cruel?† cried Kerry, scrambling off the bed and onto her feet to face Diana. â€Å"Cruel? You don’t even know the meaning of the word, cruel!† â€Å"What†¦What precisely do you mean?† questioned Kerry, her throat tightening. â€Å"When I saw that girl and boy in the car, I though that it was you and Jack†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"You mean, you†¦you didn’t, did you?† Kerry stared in disbelief. â€Å"Yeah, I followed them, then killed them, if that’s what you’re trying to say. The stupid thing was, I didn’t realise it wasn’t Jack until he was dead. And of course the girl had to go in case she saw anything,† sneered Diana, boasting about her serial killing. She quickly strode to the door and locked it before Kerry even had a chance to move. Kerry noticed for the first time, that even though Diana was pretty, she was tall, fit and could probably easily manage to hold someone in a struggle. Kerry caught her breath and inhaled deeply. â€Å"But why did you kill them because you thought they were Jack and I? Why did you want to kill us?† Diana hesitated. â€Å"You don’t understand anything? Do you? Well†¦ I suppose we have a few minutes before I have to kill you.† Her hand rose from behind her back. The sharp point of the knife sparkled in the autumn light, sending spears of the reflected spark, dancing on the walls. With the knife poised, ready for action, she continued. â€Å"I thought I could have anyone I wanted. But I didn’t want anyone I wanted Jack.† Her eyes flashed, dangerously. The knife still held, it’s flickering gleam reflected into Kerry’s eyes, dazzling her. Kerry swallowed, her heart beating faster, yearning to escape this torture. â€Å"I wanted Jack badly,† Diana continued, walking in circles around Kerry, as though she the predator and Kerry the prey. â€Å"But, he didn’t want me, did he? Oh no, he wanted you!† she hissed. â€Å"Me?† stammered Kerry, â€Å"I didn’t know.† â€Å"Of course, you, wouldn’t, spat Diana, â€Å"so I thought, well if I can’t have him, no one can. Especially you! So I came up with a nice, simple plan to kill you both. You could rot in hell together for all I cared.† â€Å"So when you killed Stacie, you thought†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"I was killing you,† Diana finished. â€Å"Yeah! Stupid mistake really, but I made up for it by making it look like it was to scare you. Funny really how urban legends can come true, isn’t it.† By now Diana was stood face to face with Kerry. â€Å"Anyway, enough talk! Now you get what’s been coming to you.† She laughed and thrust the knife down infront of her, ripping the air apart. Kerry stumbled backwards to the other side of the room. Her sweaty palms clambered at the door handle. â€Å"Looking for this?† taunted Diana holding the key out. Staring blindly around, Kerry picked up a chair and threw it at Diana. It narrowly missed her and smashed into the wall. Diana was moving forward, knowing that Kerry didn’t have anywhere to go. Only the bed stood between Kerry and her attacker. Diana drove the knife into the bed, ripping the duvet and shredding the sheets. In the commotion of feathers from the pillow, Kerry ran to the door and started banging and shouting for help. Surely someone would hear. In the meantime, Diana continued to pursue her. Kerry grabbed at anything; books, furniture, pens went flying. Some managed to hit Diana, obstructing her. Trying not to get injured by the knife, Kerry attempted to take it off Diana. Diana stood up, her eyes blazing like the fires of hell. â€Å"One thing I don’t understand,† said Kerry, trying to buy more time, â€Å"is why the name ‘Aidan’ was found at the murder scenes.† â€Å"Ever though of rearranging my name?† panted Diana, â€Å"Diana spells ‘Aidan’. No one was clever enough to guess that. It even managed to put the police off. Now stop this idle chit-chat and let me kill you, nice and slowly,† her voice cackled as she flew at Kerry, the knife close to her throat. Kerry tried to push her arm away. She couldn’t keep her off for much longer. She battled with Diana and they both lost their balance. Tumbling over Diana had the better position, holding the knife inches away from Kerry’s neck. â€Å"Goodbye Kerry†¦Ã¢â‚¬  The door to the room flew open. The surprise stopped Diana as she looked up. Jack and Kevin stood gaping in horror at the scene. Rapidly, they ran over and pulled Diana off Kerry. The knife dropped to the floor with a clang. Five policemen were standing in the entrance and with Kevin’s help, carried the screaming Diana away. Jack was left helping a very shaky Kerry to her feet. â€Å"I heard screaming,† he mumbled, â€Å"I rushed to help with Kevin.† Kerry didn’t say a word. Tears swept from her eyes, as she realised the terror was over, and she was still alive. A far away shriek disturbed the comforting silence surrounding Kerry and Jack. The wail of sirens echoed into the distance. â€Å"It’s all over now, I promise you,† Jack, holding Kerry, â€Å"I promise†

Poem, Mother Of Son, By Langston Hughes Essay - 1084 Words

Poetry Journal Assignment In the poem, Mother to Son, by Langston Hughes, the author highlights counsels a mother to her son, to be persistent, not to let discouraged by obstacles that arise in life, posing herself example, â€Å"Life for me ain’t been no crystal stair†¦But all the time I’se been a-climin’ on.†, the image of a mother lovingly, wisely talking to her son about life.The language used by the mother shows that she was not an educated person and words such as â€Å"Tacks†, â€Å"splinters†, â€Å"boards torn up† suggests that life was not so easy for this woman. Obstacles of life are often very sharp, the challenges are difficult and painful, like a ladder with all kinds of defects, which is very difficult to be ascent. The way this mother describes her journey through this life, make the reader to understand that she is a black woman who had faced a lot of obstacles in her quest to move forward in life from the whites , â€Å"And sometimes goin’ in the dark, Where there ain’t been no light. So, boy, don’t you turn back.† Any parent wants for his/her child to succeed in life and often he/she is able to sacrifice everything for that. Even an uneducated mother has in her the desire to see their child happy, and she is able to sacrifice herself. The mother in our poem encourages her child not to give up, not to stop no matter how hard will be, despite all the challenges of life, â€Å"So, boy, don’t you turn back. ‘Cause you finds it’s kinder hard. Don’t you fall now - â€Å" In contrast with theShow MoreRelatedThe Poem Mother to Son by Langston Hughes690 Words   |  3 PagesThe poem â€Å"Mother to Son† by Langston Hughes expresses a message that society can relate to. 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In the poems The Negro Speaks of Rivers and Mother To Son, Langston Hughes uses symbolism to convey his meaning of the poems to the readers. Readers may make many interpretations about the symbols used throughout these poems. Throughout the poem The Negro Speaks of Rivers Hughes uses metaphorical statements to suggest to the readerRead More Struggles of African Americans in Langston Hughes’ Poems, Mother to Son and Lenox Avenue: Midnight1672 Words   |  7 PagesStruggles of African Americans in Langston Hughes’ Poems, Mother to Son and Lenox Avenue: Midnight The experiences, lessons, and conditions of one’s life provide a wellspring of inspiration for one’s creative expressions and ideas. Throughout life people encounter situations and circumstances that consequently help to mold them into individualized spirits. An individual’s personality is a reflection of his or her life. 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In the poem Mother to Son, he denotes his belief on racism in America. In Mother to Son, a mother is giving advice to her son about life from her perspective and experiences. She wants her son to keep striving on what he believes and to have a more prosperous life than what she had. Langston Hughes was bornRead MoreThe Writing Style Of Langston Hughes1001 Words   |  5 Pagescollective, is one of the many legacies of Hughes, who has been called â€Å"the architect† of the black poetic tradition. He is certainly one of the world’s most universally beloved poets, read by children and teachers, scholars and poets, musicians and historians. Langston Hughes became the voice of black America in the 1920s, when his first published poems brought him more than moderate success. 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