Ode to Tomato By Pablo Neruda

Summary: In the poem it talk about when the tomato's are found. How a tomato is sliced and itr describes the physical features. Also where it ends up is a wedding, next to other foods.

Shift: It's about the journey of a tomato and what it goes through.

Title: it is a dedication to the tomato

Theme: There are many things people go through, except it is shown through tomato's.

Imagery: In his poem a knife murders the tomato by cutting it up.

Connotation: Instead of saying cutting he murdered the tomato.

Conflict: The conflict of this poem is the environmentthe tomatois are found and what happens to them after they are taken out of their environment.
 
Here is a story I wrote, it's suppose to be a horror story, but I'm not really sure if it's actually good or not so....please do read it and hopeful you like it. (I probably have A LOT of grammar problems, but please ignore them, I didn't actually go through all the grammar errors)

Nightmare
It was still dark outside and the humming of the car went silent. My brother was still asleep wrapped in a blanket. Mother opened the car door and glazed at the house. A big smile appeared on her face. Father walks to the back and opened the trunk. I sat there looking out the window, the next house was maybe a mile or two away. I was seven years old when it all started; A pity to my family. We had just bought a house in the countryside. It was both my parents dream to live on the countryside and they finally had enough money to come live in their dream.
The house had an eerie vibe I could feel it. The wide porch had dust all over it; I thought the wind had taken care of that. I looked at Evan, to see if he was still asleep. He was sleeping on his shoulder breathing at a fast pace. I slowly unlock the car door looking back at him. I got outside and the chills ran up my spine as the fall winds gushed everywhere. I walked back to see how many luggage’s father had taken to the house. He had many more to bring into the house. He turned to me “Daniel would you like to give your father a hand?” I walked over to take Evans’ and my bags. I still wonder how we got so many bags fit into the trunk. “It’s beautiful, the house I’ve always dreamed of.” My mother said still glazing at the house. I dragged along the luggages towards the porch. I didn’t want to stand on the porch; it looked like it would have broken with the slightest of touch. Therefore I left the luggages near it.
I could start to see the sun rising for morning was arriving. Father got the last of the luggages out and accidentally shut the trunk door to hard waking Evan up. His eyes flew open and tears started to flow down his cheeks. He started waling and mother ran towards the car to take him out. She calmed him down and showed him the new house we were going to live in. Evan was three years old when he was encountered with the cause of the end of his life. He looked at the house and the area; it was unfamiliar to him and didn’t want to come down from mothers arms.
We all walked up the porch and into the house. A different feeling came to me when I walked in. The stairs were right by the door and escalated up to the rooms. “Look Evan you get have your own room.” My mother said while she walked up the stairs. My mother turned to me “Daniel bring your brothers bags will you please.” I grabbed his bags and followed mother. Evan looked around, and then he stopped at the window “What’s your name.” Evans babbled. Mother looked at him and looked at the window. “Evan there’s no one there, now lets get you settled down.” Mother said worriedly.
I had though he had made an imaginary friend but never turned out that way. “Mother where is my room?” I asked while she unpacked his clothing. “Just go down the hall and your room is on the first left door.” I walked out and the darkness of the house frightened me; instead went downstairs to see what father was doing. I heard noise from the kitchen and I assumed it was father. When I got there a man was looking through the drawers. He was in drags and looked like he hadn’t rested in days. My heart raced of fear. A hand went to my shoulder, I jumped and turned to see father. “Daniel are you ok, what are you doing down here?”
I calmed myself down quickly as possible and said “You scared me, and I though you were down here.” “Down here? I was in the downstairs room.” My father replied. I didn’t want to tell father, I could have been just hallucinating. I walked back towards the stairs. The sun had raised more and the some of the light came through, seeing splats of light on the walls of the house. “Daniel” my mother called from upstairs “come upstairs so I can get you settled into your room, and so you can sleep for tonight.”
I went back upstairs with my bags and followed mother to my new room. The bed was already there from my old room. The room looked dull and unclean. The window was open and the wind blew the thin curtains high up into the air. Mother looked at the window upset and it was carelessly opened. She walked over to the window and shut it down. “Okay, Daniel hand your shirts and I’ll hang them in the closet.” I handed each shirt one by one as she hung them. I put rest of the clothing away as well as fixed my bed. After we were done my told to go to sleep and then we would start in the afternoon again fixing the rest of the house. I jumped in my cozy bed, finally getting some good sleep but he eerie feeling was still inside of me.
The afternoon had come and the winds were blowing and Evan had woken up silent without a tear. I walked past his room and I heard voices. What’s your name, I didn’t know we had a little one in the house. The voice was deep and its sound doubled as it had spoken. I opened the door quickly to find Evan standup against the crib looking up at something. “Evans” he replied. I walked towards him and picked him up “Come on Evan lets go down stairs.” It felt so cold near Evans’ crib that I pulled him up and almost ran out of there. His brown hair was a mess his eyes tired. “James” Evan pointed at the bottom of the stairs. Mother was walking by and heard. She went pale, “James, who James Evan?” She ran up the stairs to hold him in her arms. “James” he repeated pointing at door this time, looking with curiosity. Mother ignored it and took him downstairs thinking that he was calling his imaginary friend. She set him down in the living room while she decorated it. I heard father in the kitchen this time and I went in to see him. He was fixing the pipes under the sink, but he sat on his knee’s aiming his flashlight at something.
“Father” I called to him; He turned to me. “Good thing you’re here can you hand me a sponge and some soap, I found a mess down here.” I found a sponge and some soap in the sink. There was an old smell coming from the pipes. I handed it to him and ran out saying “Sorry I can’t take the smell.” It was old beer, really old beer, but as a child I though it was just the pipes. I began to feel as if this was not my home and it will never be. The rest of the day was quiet except all the noise we made while we dressed the house.
A few days went by and Evan began to bring the name James up and now a new name William. Mother pondered over this but just let it pass by. That mistake had taken her life as well.
I also began to be more concern about Evan having his own room. That night when I went to go to bed, a shadow followed me. I stopped in the middle of the hall if it was my shadow; however the shadow kept coming closer and closer. My heart started pounding and I could hear a heavy breathing. I started shaking and felt like passing out. I turned quickly to see nothing not even the shadow. I calmed myself down thinking it was a hallucination.
Years go by and Evan hasn’t let gone of his imaginary friends. He was seven now and still spoke to them. Both my parents came to concern and asked him one day “Son, where are your friends you play with all the time I don’t see them?” He pointed towards the seat in front of him since he was at the dinner table coloring. The seat lay empty and unmoved. Father looked back at him “There’s no one there son, your friends are not real. They are your imagination.” “No their not!” Evans answered violently throwing his red crayon out of his hand “Their real and they are nice to me and are my best friends!” I came over out of the living room after he had thrown the crayon. “What do you mean your best friends; don’t you have any friends at school?” I asked in a calm tone to calm him down. “I don’t like the kids at my school they all think that my friends don’t exist and that I’m crazy.” Evan said in a harsh tone. “What? Who said that to you?” mother asked frantically. “Go away, I don’t want to talk to any of you!” he stammered out of the room. I took his drawings he was completing, and saw the two people know as his imaginary friends with red gush crayon all over them. That same chill came up me the day I walked in this house.
Mother went after him and calms him down. Father had some groceries to buy, so he put that behind him and asked me if I wanted to go grocery shopping with him. I tagged along came to a small store probable three miles away from our house. Dad and I walked in, and the man at the clerk looked up and smiled. “Well how you doing John, heard any voices yet?” he said sarcastically. When we first came to this store he asked us if we were new and where we lived. His face had gone pale we he heard the fact we lived in that horrible house. He told us two brothers’s fought and killed the people in their family for the land. It was the last two and they shot, cut, beat, and burned each other until their last breathe and not one of them got the land. He said that folks around here sometimes even hear the gunshots at night. However, father didn’t believe in it nor did mother. They were blinded by the beauty of the house. There dream has been fulfilled and didn’t want to let go of it. I understood why know one wanted to live there. After losing my mother and my brother I knew.
As year go on Evan’s state gets even worse. He stopped eating dinner with us and he came home very late looking half drunk. We all tried to stop him but he answered to us in violent manner. One day when he sat outside on the porch fidgeting with his fingers father came outside and stood their and stared at him with sorrow. He had spoken about taking Evans to a psychologist last night with mother. Mother was weeping that night; she didn’t want Evan to be like this. Usually Evan spoke in the night to James and William; his imaginary friends had never left him. They had caused him to be like this. One night Evan was talking again, he said “Who was going to own this house and this land? No, no can have it it’s mine!” it went silent for a while then “I will destroy every person in my way from owning this land!” When I heard that last line I got up immediately and walked over to his door. I stopped to think, how he would react now. I wanted to go get my baseball bat just incase he goes wild and attacks. However, I just took a deep breathe and knocked on his door. No one replied, so I knocked again and still no sound. Then I waited for a minute and then I gave his door a hard push breaking it open.
He sat at the edge of his bed slouching looking down at his feet then turned to me. Then in front of him was that man I had seen thirteen years ago. The same rags and the same restless look, he had burn arm and several blood shots through his chest. Mother and father ran to Evan’s room after I had broken the door down. Their face went pale soon as they saw the man in rags and the blood shots. Evan’s grumbled “What are you doing here?” Mother stuttered “Evan...ev…ev…Evan…who is that?” He stared harshly and repeated what he had said before. The man in the rags mouthed something. “Kill them all” Evan repeated what the man had just mouthed.
“Evan!” mother shrieked and burst into tears backing into the hallway. Father and I stood there pale. “Evan what are you doing!” father yelled at him. Evan stood up and walked towards them. Tightened his fist and aimed for both of us. “Becky get out of here now!” Father screamed at mother. She ran down the stairs towards the door but something pushed her back causing her to fall back. A figure towered over her and it was the other spirit, William. He glared at her and that was the last of her, she died from fright. Father and I held Evan back against the floor so he couldn’t do anything. “Evan don’t listen to him, he’s playing with your mind.” I yelled at him struggling to hold him down. “Let go!” He screamed but with a different voiced. The spirit had over shadowed giving him more strength and his existent no more. He was no more Evan he was James, James who was going to kill them. He pushed us off and stood up. He grab father by the neck threw him across the room. I tried to tackle him down again but he just slammed me into the wall. Father laid there helpless and Evan went towards him. I found a baseball bat and hit him hard enough to knock him out. It didn’t work but made him vulnerable; I quickly picked father up and ran down the stairs. I saw mother’s body on floor, I was going to lose my mind but Evan was coming down the stairs and I had to get father to safety.
I ran into the kitchen and put father on the floor. I went towards the drawer and pulled out one of the knives. Tears flowed down my face from seeing mother and dead. Evan came down the stairs and I couldn’t take it, father woke up to see me in tears, “Daniel why are you crying?” I couldn’t tell him but I told him so he can face the truth. “Mother…mother is no more.” I said “Take mother and go far away from his house.” Father was in shock and was going to obey. Evan walked over to the living room looking to find us. Father quietly picked mother up and I went after Evan. I hand no other choice but to get rid of him. He turned around and had something in his hand. It was a broken beer bottle from his room. I ran back to the kitchen and he followed. “Evan, Evan! Come back to us!” I said. My hand accidentally turned the stove on and Evan came closer and closer. “Everything is mine!” He screamed. His shirt had caught on fire but he kept coming at me. “Evan let go of them, their playing with your mind!” I said to him. I ran out of the kitchen and out of the house. The house started to burn and it burned down until it no longer stood. The pain and agony of losing my brother and my mother was too much and I fall to my knee’s cry. I wished that my parents had believed me when I had said something was wrong with Evan. Now time can’t be reversed and I have lost almost everything.
 
To the unknown Godess
WILL you conquer my heart with your beauty; my soul going out from afar?
Shall I fall to your hand as a victim of crafty and cautions shikar?

Have I met you and passed you already, unknowing, unthinking and blind?
Shall I meet you next session at Simla, O sweetest and best of your kind?

Does the P. and O. bear you to meward, or, clad in short frocks in the West,
Are you growing the charms that shall capture and torture the heart in my breast?

Will you stay in the Plains till September—my passion as warm as the day?
Will you bring me to book on the Mountains, or where the thermantidotes play?

When the light of your eyes shall make pallid the mean lesser lights I pursue,
And the charm of your presence shall lure me from love of the gay "thirteen-two";

When the peg and the pig-skin shall please not; when I buy me Calcutta-build clothes;
When I quit the Delight of Wild Asses; foreswearing the swearing of oaths ;

As a deer to the hand of the hunter when I turn 'mid the gibes of my friends;
When the days of my freedom are numbered, and the life of the bachelor ends.

Ah, Goddess! child, spinster, or widow—as of old on Mars Hill when they raised
To the God that they knew not an altar—so I, a young Pagan, have praised

The Goddess I know not nor worship; yet, if half that men tell me be true,
You will come in the future, and therefore these verses are written to you.
 
 I hate you
I hate you, more than anything else here
you are horrible in every possible way
why in my world did you have to appear

your the feeling when gum is on my shoe
your the feeling when I'm feeling sick
you never did anything right, I knew
I wonder why I made that mistake

You always had jokes to say about me
they were never funny, obviously
you had everything but my hearts key
broken my heart instead continuously,

Synonyms for hate are feelings for you
I hate you, so does everyone else too.
 
The end
Blindly I trusted you
but I didn't know I would get lost in this maze
the high walls I felt beside me and checkered floor broken
Constantly feeling the floor move by the chess pieces

You never do what evils do
But you are mislead into a bad phase
you could have told me instead of creating a wall of hidden
playing a game has hurt you and us,and my chance to become your Mistress
 
Returning Past
People running past me for cover from the rain
I stand there still, and embrace the rain drops onto my skin
My eyes shut and letting go of all my trepidation and pain
remembering memories that were so thin

The times we were happy and nothing to worry about
Benevolent you were and Intrepid you made me feel
living life to fullest as if our age is frozen and will throughout
our life, was perfect but separated from you seems so unreal

it happened so quickly that I didn't get chance to apologize
You wanted to meet me one last time but I couldn't and destroyed our friendship

Our separation was so vehement, we didn't have time to say our goodbyes
I went through so much I wonder if you went through hardship

I wish to myself if I can see you again and repair our acrid bond because I need to cope.
I open my eyes again and there you are standing front of me, I sense hope.
 
Cherry Blossom
Misplaced into the wrong meadow it felt
surrounded by a sea of Cherokee Roses
The wind was silent and the snow around me started to melt
Watching closely, so I could solve the mazes

They shivered in a way I didn't understand
like a continuous patterns of circular dots
Patience was needed, but I learned fast, I could keep my stand

Adjusting to the meadow took time, but after that I did not feel hallow
Even if being the Cherry Blossom, I'm part of this meadow