Dream Big and Accomplish

Description:
This poetry notebook is dedicated to my sister, who is graduating. These poems portray how a person can accomplish their goals with a good spirit and courage by setting your mind to what you have put as your finish line. For a finish line does not mark the end of your race, you will continue running and pursuing your dreams.

Synopsis:
These poems will show you that an achievement is a goal that began as a dream and that it has been reached. It will inspire you to reach high for your goals,to succeed and reach for the next dream.

Dream Big and Accomplish

Poetry:

Dreams by Langston
Hughes

The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost

Dare to Dream by Julie Anne Ford

Today's Dreams Are Tomorrow's Successes by Kelly D. Caron

Dream Big by Author unknown

Graduation Is a Time by Nicholas Gordon

Solid Goal by Charles Ghigna

Solid Goal
Charles Ghigna

Don't let the distance to your goals
Keep you from your dreams;
It's never really quite as far
As what it often seems.

Always Keep Your Dreams Alive by Author Unknown


Always Keep Your Dreams Alive
Author Unknown

Now is a time for you to celebrate
the accomplishment of a dream you have worked so hard to realize.
You have shown so many people how special you are.
Now is the time to begin to pursue the next path,
to reach out for the next star,
and to achieve the things that are so important to you.
Always keep your dreams alive.
And keep them coming true.

Watermelon Red—Benjamin Moore—2087–20

She is sitting outside
in the watermelon field
surrounded by scrambler
and trailer vines.
Her legs
"Criss cross
apple sauce"
like vines tangled
and twisted
holding
the sweet treat
of the summer fruit
the crunchy
thirst—quenching
watermelon.

She looks
beyond
the summer air
that has
made small drops
of sweat
on her forehead
she slides
her hands
against
the hard
bitter
rind.
The pattern and color
fascinate her.

She sees one
that is fully grown
ready
for harvest.
They grow
so well
that its hard to take one home.
She tastes it
wanting to never
forget its
succulent flavor.
The small black seeds
inside
like soldiers
in a line,
perfectly positioned.

She sits on the watermelon field
thinking—

She is one of them
not ready yet
to be sweet
to be colorful
to be
unique.

She is still
growing she is a seed
that has been cultivated.

She knows
she will someday
be ready
to be harvested
and be
watermelon
red.

What are We?

He faced
the place of assemble
and the conch
to his lips.

One had to sit
attracting all eyes
to the conch
all crouched
or squatted.

Now,
there's no water.
he shells are dry.
We need
those shelters
and go to the rocks.
The fire
is most important

we ought to die
before we let
the fire out.

His speech
was planned
point by point.

Hands
were reaching
for the conch
in the light
of the setting sun .
He held on
and leaped on the trunk.

Things
are
breaking up.
I don't understand why.

He looked beyond them,
at nothing
remembering the beastie,
the snake,
the fire,
the talk about fear.
He says the beast comes
out of the sea
or is it some sort of ghost.

He stops again.
The careful plan
battered and broken.

What are we?
Humans?
Animal?
Savages?
I was chosen
as chief.

There is no beast.
the rules
are the only
thing we've got.

Bollock to the rules,
if there is a beast
will hunt it.
We
are strong.

The sound of mock hunting
laughter,
and real terror
comes
from the beach.

Well be like animals
will never
be rescued
not
if I blow the conch.

Where I’m From

I’m from pots and pans
From homemade fricase soup
and aji Colorado and mote blanco.

I’m from the quincho
the delicious smell of BBQ
and the five o’clock tea.

I’m from the tall, beautiful, superior, and protective
Georgia trees
and the orange
and yellow leaves
from the pollen on my window frame.

I’m from the coldest night of the year
up in the mountains
close to the sky
eating marshmallow,
playing guitar, shouting rocket,
jumping the camp fire,
burning old things
I’m from San Juan.



I’m from the sweet talk
Wawai
and the licensing clan,
where one tells
and is important,
from the giver and selfless.


I’m from the Merced Church
early in the morning
and the flying dove.

I’m from the mountains
the cold on your hands
and burnt cheeks.
From a long line of generations
and strong political family.

I’m from morals and stories
From, to presidents, to senators and ministers
and from equality and democracy.

I’m from the crunchy—fresh bread
Maraqueta and cheese empanadas
from hot sauce to butter.

I’m from the summer up at Yungas,
where the house stands on a mountain
and is surrounded by clouds,
right under your feet.
From the clear river flowing
and the bougainvillea flower
and the breakfast table for twenty.

I’m from running around with no shoes
and muddy clothes from yesterday.
From playing with a ball in the streets
and eating helado de canela.

I’m from the old and new photos
on my grandparents wall
polished every day,
to keep from being forgotten.

Japan Hit by a Giant Wave

It was a Friday morning, when I saw both of my parents glued to the T.V. My sister and I bantered at their childlike actions, but we soon found out what was really going on.

A huge tsunami in Japan was preceded by the maganitude-8.9 quake—one of the largest ever recorded—shocked Japan’s east side, killing a copious amount of people.
We all sat together: mom, dad, Isabela and I licensing to the reporter, we were fastidiously paying attention to this crucial natural disaster that electrified and made people around the world feel a pang of sorrow for Japan.

The tsunami hit Hawaii and set off warnings for the whole pacific coast living many people scared.

Japan has been hit by many earthquakes making it common for civilians there, but this fitful disaster has never hit so hard before in Japan.

The Japanese government (Prime minister) deployed a contingent of adept rescue teams making a statement that there first goal is to be strong and to save as many lives as possible, this massage was concise and audile for everyone that was watching the news.

The reconstruction might be decelerated because of all the other problems like the capacious nuclear plants that have planned to shut down ,whcih contain extremely dangerous radioactive chemicals. Hopefully as time elapses it will be facilitated for people hopefully they will grapple this devastation and take for learning experience and come up with better future safety guidelines for the people’s health and earthquake and later tsunamis procedures.

This natural disaster left many people killed, gone missing or homeless. So pray for Japan and help in any way if you can.

Memoir: The House on Mango Street

The House on Mango Street by Sandra Cisneros is an eye opener. It tell the story of Esperanza Cordero— who live in a poor and rundown neighborhood—and is ashamed and feels like she doesn’t belonging and wants to escape and be free. The House on Mango Street is more than a small, cramped, red house, it was Esperanza’s home it’s where she unlocked the keys to her emerging and evolving identity and how she should always go back and not erase what she knows, how she will always be Mango Street, and how she should never forget who she is.

The memoir explains the social and economic difficulties faced by Mexican Americans, especially women, and the possibilities of overcoming those obstacles and changing the lives living in a poor community. Esperanza has realized this through the women around her: Sally, Marin, and Rafaela. She tries to determine who her role models will be, but she realizes she wants something bigger than getting married or dropping out of school; by that, she overcomes her insecurities and learns about her own strengths and weaknesses.

The book is organized in short series of vignettes, as the story developments the memoirist age increasing, even though it’s not clear you can tell by the maturity she shows throughout. The vignettes show Esperanza’s encounter with her surrounding and her realizations with herself and other people.

The House on Mango Street is a very powerful novel and is it is full of life lessons. From child's point of view Sandra Cisneros has the ability to open our eyes to the sufferings of growing up in poverty in a troubled neighborhood in Chicago. Not many authors have these types of themes and subjects involved in there writing and doing it in such a marvelous way. There are several subjects involved that most of us don’t think about or encounter, making this novel unique and remarkable.

Lines We Love:

“They will not know I have gone away to come back. For the ones I left behind. For the ones who cannot out.”(Pg. 110)

“I want to be
like the waves on the sea,
like the clouds in the wind,
but I'm me.
One day I'll jump
Out of my skin.
I'll shake the sky
like a hundred violins.” (Pg.60)

What I Believe

I believe that waking up in the morning
with a hug,
is a blessing of god.

I believe in improvisation.
It can bring wonderful
random moments.

I believe in making a wish
at 11:11.

I believe you can make more friends
by becoming interested in others,
than trying to get other people interested in you.

I believe in the wonders of art.
I believe in imagination and creation.

I believe that 'natural talent' doesn’t exist,
you have to work to win a Noble Prize,
you have to work to win the Olympic Gold Medal.

I believe you should give yourself permission...
to do new things, random things, or basic things.


I believe in being mischievous,
it feels good every once in a while.

I believe you should break the mold,
do thing differently for once.

I believe you should dare to dream.
to dream
for whatever.

And I believe in God
in someone superior

whether it is many gods,

whether it is no god,
but just someone
who's out there.