Not Waving But Drowning- Poem response 23

Nobody heard him, the dead man,
But still he lay moaning:
I was much further out than you thought
And not waving but drowning.

Poor chap, he always loved larking
And now he's dead
It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way,
They said.

Oh, no no no, it was too cold always
(Still the dead one lay moaning)
I was much too far out all my life
And not waving but drowning.

-Stevie Smith

After we analyzed this poem in class, I found that I really
liked it. The visual of the title is captivating.
Everyone has seen the classic scene of someone flailing
all over in the water that makes it look like they are waving
but really they are drowning. I like the 3 stanzas, and how
the last line, "I was too far out all y life
And not waving but drowning," completely comes back to the
first stanza and helps to tie the whole poem together. I
thought this poem was about a person who their whole
life had been living by their own rules, or "Larking"
all over, until what they liked actually made them die.
The person was drowning the whole time, and no body stopped
to actually help them, or ask if they need help. In class,
someone said that it is easier for us to just assume that
everyone is okay, and not actually take on the possibility
that the person isn't actually happy and reach out to help.
This poem is pretty cool :)

Sports??

Why do we play sports?
Why does one team win, and one lose?
Why is it called a sport anyway?
Where do sports come from?
How come they make us so happy, and then so sad?
What makes sports universal, like the Oympics?
-Insert question about sports here?-

The Final Buzzer

Goodbye to the squeaks on the hard wood,
to the whistle then, "On the line!"
and to the feeling of freedom,
bounded by desire and a gym.

Goodbye to the uniform,
35, purple, black and white,
worn proudly as a lion.

Goodbye to the ladies who shaped me,
to the feeling of unison, one
team, one pack, one den.

Goodbye to the metal rim, unforgiving, and
the net's sweet sound when I succeed. The 1,400
career points, 4 years worth.

Goodbye to the smell of dust and sweat,
the cool leather that feels so right in my hand.
The the taped ankles, jammed fingers,
poked eyes and bloody knees.

Goodbye to the traditions,
the tie dye, the Chinese food, the
bracelets we wove together... and the initiation.

Goodbye to the long hot summers at camp,
stuffy loud gyms, where I spent my
sacrificed time.

Goodbye to the community who loved the game,
to the hours of drills,
the frustration and the overcoming.

Goodbye to the announcer, "and senior guard..."
to the competition that drives me,
and the adrenaline that fuels me.

Goodbye to the peace I felt on the court,
to the belonging in a large school, and
to the tears and smiles of my teammates.

The final buzzer sounds, only to be replaced...

Hello to the tip off of college,
basketball over again.
A new venue, a new team, a new uniform, a new family,
and a new school to represent. Yet, the same sport,
and the same 8 year old girl, who fell in love with
the game.