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I have a poetry analysis due tomorrow, and I need help understanding the 6th stanza of this poem:

Wild Orphan

Blandly mother

takes him strolling

by railroad and by river

--he's the son of the absconded

hot rod angel--

and he imagines cars

and rides them in his dreams,

so lonely growing up among

the imaginary automobiles

and dead souls of Tarrytown

to create

out of his own imagination

the beauty of his wild

forebears--a mythology

he cannot inherit.

Will he later hallucinate

his gods? Waking

among mysteries with

an insane gleam

of recollection?

The recognition--

something so rare

in his soul,

met only in dreams

--nostalgias

of another life.

A question of the soul.

And the injured

losing their injury

in their innocence

--a cock, a cross,

an excellence of love.

And the father grieves

in flophouse

complexities of memory

a thousand miles

away, unknowing

of the unexpected

youthful stranger

bumming toward his door.

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I have a poetry analysis due tomorrow, and I need help understanding the 6th stanza of this poem:

Wild Orphan

Blandly mother

takes him strolling

by railroad and by river

--he's the son of the absconded

hot rod angel--

and he imagines cars

and rides them in his dreams,

so lonely growing up among

the imaginary automobiles

and dead souls of Tarrytown

to create

out of his own imagination

the beauty of his wild

forebears--a mythology

he cannot inherit.

Will he later hallucinate

his gods? Waking

among mysteries with

an insane gleam

of recollection?

The recognition--

something so rare

in his soul,

met only in dreams

--nostalgias

of another life.

A question of the soul.

And the injured

losing their injury

in their innocence

--a cock, a cross,

an excellence of love.

And the father grieves

in flophouse

complexities of memory

a thousand miles

away, unknowing

of the unexpected

youthful stranger

bumming toward his door.

wish i could help but im cramming for my 2 exams tommorow

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Poems are the worst. If someone means something, just freaking say it! My English teacher told us about this guy, forgot his name...but his poems went something like this:

There is a

Red Wheelbarrow

It is used

To carry things

That's my kind of poetry.

Edit: Here it is

The Red Wheelbarrow

William Carlos Williams

so much depends

upon

a red wheel

barrow

glazed with rain

water

beside the white

chickens.

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Wild Orphan by Allen Ginsburg portraits the life of a boy being raised by his mother after his reckless father deserts them. An abandonment of any sort leaves the soul of a person yearning to understand, especially when evidence is left behind.

Left with no sense of disclosure, the boy constantly wonders where his own ‘wild’ characteristics derived from. He ‘imagines cars and rides them in his dreams’, which shows he has his father’s unruly nature in his blood. His mother, described as ‘blandly’, cannot fulfill the son’s needs, and he grows up bored and frequently daydreaming. Throughout the poem, the focus is on the son’s mental being, and how he copes with the situation thrust upon him. The free-verse style of Wild Orphan contributes to the name and meaning behind the poem; it’s unrestricted, but still put together to get a message across.

This is what I have so far, it only needs to be three paragraphs, almost done!

I get what you mean.

But, I actually like poetry, although I like writing it a whole lot more than analyzing it. >.<

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