Best Hester Poems
"HEX"
whispers, a pit full of vipers swallow feathers and their tales, scarlet letter burned blistering at the crucible assizes
(Lovejoy-Burton/2018 Jan)
1. Hester Prynne/Pearl, Character Analysis
https://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/s/the-scarlet-letter/character-analysis/hester-prynne
2. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kw2Ic_2XdVQ
3. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7_XoKJP1XK4
She heard her feet fall on the dirt.
The echo caused her heart to hurt;
and though she held her head up high,
she chose her fate for love to lie.
No shame could steal her pride away.
Stern puritans would have her pay.
Her sin she wore upon her chest.
The scarlet A defined her best.
This brave woman named Hester Prynne
forgave herself of her past sin.
Paraded ‘round town openly
with babe in arms for all to see.
Daughter named Pearl, a gift from God.
She felt forgiven, strong yet flawed.
The town became her own prison;
the woods, her walls, absorbed love’s sin.
Her choice to stay and not to run,
she made that day in light of sun.
She'd never give the elders power
beyond penance of bridled hour.
She wore her "A" dutifully,
then laid with love eternally.
By Rhonda Johnson-Saunders
For Giorgio's Iambic Verse - Recite and Analyze A Fictional Event, 2/15/15
*written in iambic tetrameter, couplet rhyme scheme.
Event analyzed- When Hester Prynne is publically shamed and given her Scarlet Letter.
Hester Prynne
The whiteness of her virtue
Bleeds red with scarlet sin;
Her crimson cheeks alert you
To guilt concealed within.
Like sapphires set in ivory,
Or roses wet with snow,
Once-pallid flesh turns fiery:
Her shame for all to know.
six million stones
a railroad car streaked red
a thousand astrodomes
swollen with dead children
the population of houston
dallas wiped out
ugly striped prison uniforms
signifying captures and escapes
martin luther as a bigot
bonhoeffer as a hero
dying days before the
liberation
faces from rwanda darfur
signaling the continuance
of a tradition of genocide
a danish fishing boat
hiding neighbors in a
fake bottom to escape
a wicked storming
the pictures of happy
proud loving families
bludgeoned in broken glass
a soft cloth golden star
like a slave branding
pulsating with hatred and
judgement harsher than
the ornate letter a for hester
1500000 butterflies
sewn drawn carved
remembering
the children who lost
their lives in the
Holocaust
"Butterflies don't live in here, here in the ghetto" Pavel Friedman, April, l942
Written after a visit to The Holocaust Museum of Houston
if we could write a scarlet letter
in a world where there is no shame
and place it on a hester prine
just to shame her name
could we find another letter
to represent the womans scorn
and place the letter on her breast
ever to be worn
what would make the woman suffer
the intended consequence
could a conscious spur a soul
into moral consciousness
could a letter change her fate
from being evil to becoming good
and with the added question
did it harm the neiborhood
are all women judged by letters
as harmfull as she
all women judged by letters
to recieve a guilty plea
and all women judged by letters
to wear this ugly blot
and never be free from the sin
that made the awful spot
hester had integrity and hester had a skill
neither man of god or judge of men
could break our hesters will
hester had determination
and hester had her pride
she was not a rat
and yet she never lied
throught the years friends turn into enemies
and foes become good friends
a letter became a decoration
and no longer a mark of shame
soon the world would learn the truth
and the truth can set you free
it's not about who they say you are
it's about who you'll be
when the world sends the letters
and they come to you as mail
don't ignore the letters
answer them very well
when the world sends you letters
through the whispers of friends
don't believe everything
said by so called friends
when the world sends you letters
judging your moral values
take a look at yourself and be honest
do you really have to?
and when the world sends you letters
about your lower class
i don't even have to tell ya, you know.
Hester let her say sequester-
and she feted the focus,
folks fallen inside say-
i wonder,
! plunder,
say Donner much dumber than plundering the groovy grow.
Too much woolen sleeve not enough reep!
Too much stolen ski not enough heavy peace!
Because the people will all fall over,
into fives-
into lives -
and yes baby into the night.
Hester felt like she deserved it, so she did not say a word.
Wearing the scarlet letter for the town to see,
She walked with her baby through people and their prejudices.
Superstitions wafted in the evening wind in Boston that night.
She was a social outcast, even though the father had escaped.
No one was pointing him out or ostracizing him.
Hester understood; shame was a woman’s cross to bear.
She began sewing for others and felt fortunate when they paid her.
The townspeople referred to Pearl as the demon child.
It was not her fault she was born on the wrong side of the blanket.
Hester wished they would have harbored all ill will toward her
And left her innocent daughter alone, but it was not meant to be
The meteor that traced an A in the sky gave her a glimmer of hope
That Pearl’s origin would not be held against her.
Hester held onto this hope and wish.
Loving her child with the rest of her strength.
To mother Pearl with roses
Who loves not lies nor poses
Dislikes neighbors that’s nosy
Likes good weather that’s rosy
Mom is a very good cook
Cooks from scratch not from a book
In cookbooks she never looks
Cook’s lessons she never took
Momma Pearl now eighty three
Hoes her own garden you see
Has her own freedom to be
An amazing Cherokee
Bothered not by who you are
She still chauffeur’s her own car
Believes work, we all must bear
Works for elderly health care
Believes, healthy, wealthy and wise
Means, living life without disguise
Loves not neighbor’s unwholesome lies
But help’s him remove from his guise
Her motto, don’t you be cheated
Living character defeated
With a love that is depleted
A change in your life is needed
This poem I give, mother Pearl
To thee your rose, while in this world
You’ve never been a party girl
Desired not give the world a whirl
Hester Pearl’s rose, not of this world!
For: My Own Living Mother
Sponsored by: Rambling Poet
Placed # 11
A true advantage
Is to be angry with your head
And not your heart.
This is how good men win wars,
And smart women win arguments.
And this is the story
Of how I finally learned the difference.
Darkness lit by bright green bulbs
Reveals a thousand mouths,
Taped and caged.
And while bound, I still walk free
And so decide to tempt my torture,
Procured by bright green tape.
I slip the cat my tongue to eat
Though uneasy, I smile.
Yes, I rebelled.
I plotted and protested all on my own,
Stood strong as stone
As the jokers, they taunted
And the mud at me flew.
Punish me for it if you must.
Hang me from the gallows at high noon,
Make me walk the plank.
Make me stand on the scaffold like
Hester Prynne,
With the letter T for treason sewn
To my breast.
A dunce cap does not make one a fool,
And shaming me will not make me ashamed.
But I was wrong, I was wrong.
I had it out for the jailers,
Who weren't jailers after all.
Just tell them all I'm sorry,
Tell those wide-eyed kids I'm sorry.
Tell those taped mouths and
Their skeletons
Me poenitet
To the bridge I said, "Don't kill me"
As I struck and threw the match
Now if he would please
Excuse me
As I step off his back
And would someone remind me that
What I did, I thought was best
The worst flames, it is said,
Are the ones that you begin
I let apologies cast down like rain,
White blossoms as white flags
To cool the singed portions
Of the bridge.
Inhale the smoke like I deserve
Then clear my lungs
And journey on.
James has been rowing since he was aged eleven,
At Peterborough rowing club and at junior events,
But whilst at London Uni a crash sadly broke his back,
So that now he takes part in disability sports contests.
He’s a Legs, Trunk and Arms, LTA mixed cox four,
Racing with Grace Clough and also with Oliver Hester,
Pamela Relph, also Naomi Riches or Oliver James,
Who co-ordinates with cox efforts as he’s no jester.
In the 2014 Worlds in Amsterdam, the Nethherlands,
James with the team won the gold, patted the water,
And in 2015 at the Worlds in Alguebelette in France,
James won with the mixed team another gold garter.
And in the World Cup in Italy in the city of Varese,
In 2015 they collected yet another gold, tight rowing,
And in Rio they rejoiced for a very long few days,
After they took top spot again, owing to their training.
a 1945 bottle of Romanée-Conti, a
telephone booth in london, a rouge
sunflower, a covered bridge in green
river, vt, a basket of juicy ripe tomatoes,
a branch of cherries bearing down as
ornaments, apples bearing all shades
thereof, autumn barberries, tori’s hair
after clairol torrid torch crimson &
clinique’s sebastian potion no. 9 has
been applied, color of the sky at
night if a sailor is delighted, color of
the girl’s hood who was warned of the
BIG BAD WOLF’s sexual appetite, a
little wheelbarrow of the same pigment,
carrie’s body drenched in pig’s blood
at the prom, bricks, cardinals, ladybugs,
hester prynne’s letter A sewn, rome’s
god of war & the planet of that same
hue, the attractive choice of a 1000 logos,
m. fox’s matte red lips, bunnicula’s eyes,
chomsky’s necktie & the nose of many a
clown.
In an ill-advised decision,
Educationally dumb,
New York City’s ranked its teachers,
Which defies the rule of thumb.
For the whole world now has access
To the way each teacher scored,
Though I thought humiliation
Was a means to be deplored.
Only math and English teachers
Bear the brunt of this new rule,
Which eliminates most pedagogues
Who work in every school.
What’s the basis of the rankings?
Well, it’s simple yet pathetic –
Results of standard city tests,
Supposedly prophetic.
A teacher may be patient, smart,
Creative or exciting;
She may inspire thinking minds
Or brilliant bursts of writing.
But all of that won’t mean a thing
If students’ scores are flat;
‘Cause politicians are convinced
Exams are where it’s at.
It doesn’t matter if the kids
Have problems or are poor;
The teacher is the one at fault
When there’s a sub-par score.
And now the public has the chance
To check each teacher’s name;
A ranking near the bottom means
They know just who to blame.
My question to the city is,
For teachers who scored low,
If branding them on websites
Is the proper way to go.
For people are so quick to judge
When labels are applied.
I know I’d feel like Hester Prynne,
With no place safe to hide.
Like educators everywhere,
I’m shocked, appalled, dismayed.
To those in charge who pushed this through,
You get a failing grade!
This poem is dedictated to our beloved uncle Tommy Hester, who passed away at 1705 26th
July 2009 at the too young an age of 65.
To our Tommy Hester,
a smile always on your face.
Never was a man so loved,
so kind and full of grace.
You will always be in our hearts,
we were all brightened by your touch.
To our Tommy Hester,
we'll all miss you very much.
We all love you very much Tommy and you will be missed greatly x
Hester's a jester. Gutteral laughs.
A throaty, Ha! Ha! Bathe me in it.
Healthy and complete, please delete
All sadness, letting in only good stuff.
I can't get enough of Hester, a Jester.
More, more! Exclaiming with my glee!
Be free. Break smiles to unbridled joy.
Not coy, with your gift to bring mirth.
I give birth to my girth to hear you so.
Stay, stay with me, and don't ever go.
Hester P Goldman was a loving woman, a friendly, good-looking, happy to please-you-woman.
The kind of woman you would take on vacation, and let sit in the car.
Having grown up in a loving home, she could not understand why a child would run away from their home.
The kind of woman you would like to read a book to.
Could not visualize how world has changed. She had stayed inside for years, had groceries delivered.
The kind of woman you never saw garden.
Hester P. Godman did not watch the news as it terrified her She refused to look at a newspaper.
The kind of woman who could remain optimistic.
She died in her sleep yesterday, peacefully, happily, not knowing how crazy America is now.
Not caring.
Not one whit.
Believing Eisenhower was still president.