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Showing posts from June, 2023

WRITING ACCREDITATIONS

http://elaccampusnews.com/2019/11/27/native-american-women-praised-during-native-american-heritage-month/ https://elaccampusnews.com/2019/12/02/dont-hate-on-roller-skates/ Milestone publisher, editor, copywriter, author 2021-2022:  https://www.instagram.com/milestonelitjournal/

Whitman Answered The Call, by Christina Woodson, no use of this work permitted without written consent

  Christina Woodson Professor Mannone English 211 2 February 2022 Whitman Answered The Call Ralph Waldo Emerson was a renowned essayist whose works continue to astonish world readers every day. He was an advocate for the ideas of self-reliance, beauty in nature, and treating this life as a gift in all ways possible. Though he was able to convey those ideas thoughtfully and persistently in his essays, there came a time when he wanted and encouraged a new voice in American Literature. In his essay, The Poet , he beckons that there should be a new poet who is “The sayer, the namer, and represents beauty… a beholder of ideas, and an utterer of the necessary and casual.” Walt Whitman began writing Song Of Myself a little over ten years later, immediately portraying a direct answer to Emerson’s request. The influence of Emerson is scattered throughout the whole poem and is a work that is consistent with the ideas that society should consider and take more into consideration. Through direct

For The Love Of Community: T.S. Eliot’s Alienation And The Community It Molds, by Christina Woodson, no use of this work permitted without written consent

Christina Woodson Professor Gleason  Poetry  20 May 2022 For The Love Of Community: T.S. Eliot’s Alienation And The Community It Molds The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock by T.S. Eliot is a poem that entices readers with the second point of view questions it swiftly presents, a forward from a book that questions human existence, and literary devices that deliver for an unsettling and isolating setting. In this poem, the author states a clear question about the effects of globalization. Some of these questions are already answered by the isolating tone conceived in this poem, which furthers and strengthens a sense of community in the newly alienated world. While the poem is distinguished lonely and leaves audiences feeling the despair that Prufrock makes them feel in his monologue about his isolation and how it is relatable to audiences.  Let us go then, you and I, (Eliot, Line 10).  In Dante’s Inferno which is quoted right before this line, Dante takes the reader directly on a jour

Misogynoir of the Harlem Renaissance: How Langston Hughes’ Shunning of Black Women and Severe Need for White Approval Sheds All Responsibility on to Black Women Writers, by Christina Woodson, no use of this work permitted without written consent

  Christina Woodson Professor Gleason Poetry  June 1, 2022 Misogynoir of the Harlem Renaissance: How Langston Hughes’ Shunning of Black Women and Severe Need for White Approval Sheds All Responsibility on to Black Women Writers The Harlem Renaissance is deemed a revolutionary time for art, specifically written forms. It was the turn of the century, and finally, black Americans were getting recognition societally, even though it was seen through a viewing glass of just the art they had to offer. One of the most profound and iconic writers to come was Langston Hughes. Through the revolutionary Harlem Renaissance, Langston Hughes reached a sort of superstardom, while still facing the struggles presented as an African American man. While black male Americans very evidently suffered, the stories of artists and poets who were black women seem to disappear. This poses the question of the differences that poetry brings to these artists. Through thorough research of Langston Hughe’s Harlem a

Descriptive poem, by Christina Woodson, no use of this work permitted without written consent

When dogs and cats litter the streets, In smithereens that look like the most rotten tomatoes mixed in with the cracking tar on the hot Los Angeles road, I know the empire is going to fall, shattered to the floor like millions of mirrors leaving no room to spare anyone.  Maybe I never knew just how many animals get hit by cars, mangled and tangled and tossed like a meat grinder. But now I notice and I see the numbers,  Too many to remember.  Rats, dogs, cats, babies, and my uterus, All lining the streets where I drive Through a hellish industrial wasteland that David Lynch could not have created. Snow falling that is the ash of the mountains up the coast burning down. The older I get, The hotter the sun becomes, My eyes begin to phase the golden filter out, but probably only because they’re melting into my skull.  The land is grey and bleak, but mostly brown, And the dogs and cats and rats line the street.  And maybe I just never noticed, but now that I do, it’s too many. And that’s wh