Tuesday, December 27, 2011

The Procrastinators

While walking through the only the second circle of the forsaken place
(a)
I found my attention to be drawn to a very odd sight.
(b)
I turned to Virgil to ask why there was such an assortment of people in what appeared to be a waiting room.
(c)

He turned to me and shook his head, then pointed to his right.
(b)
Above there was a sign that said "train to heaven" and I asked,"if they were going why they have this doom."
(c)
Virgil looked at me, expecting me to understand. When I didn't his mouth went tight.
(b)

He sighed and said to me that this place is of the procrastinator's tomb.
(c)
"Tomb?" I asked. But the sign says that they are to leave.
(d)
"No," replied my guide, getting increasingly more frustrated, "they are stuck here as a child in the womb."
(c)

As I grew increasing curious, my guide told me that there was no need to grieve.
(d)
In life these people put of to another time so as not to do their work,
(e)
so now in death they are to wait as they have made others, now they sit around while their chest's heave.
(d)

"Are they ever to move on to heaven as the sign says or is their vessel blocked by some odd quirk?"
(e)
"No," answered my guide, again, "there is a delay."
(f)
"These wretches are bound to stay in this room.They only have this area to lurk."
(e)

I was confused and fond nothing that I could say.
(f)
Then I asked were they to sit here and that is all, or is there something for them to do?
(g)
Virgil explained then that these people told others that they would have what the other desired the next day,
(f)

But as time went on they only made excuses, so they now have that to rue.
(g)
Their ship will never come. They destiny is to merely just wait.
(h)
The people periodically looked up at the sign which flashed a word in bright royal blue.
(g)

"DELAYED", and as the souls of the procrastinators saw that the ship was once again late
(h)
they tore at their hair and fists and pounded each head in a fit of rage.
(i)
"This place in Hell," my guide shared with me, "is my least favorite state."
(h)

"There are so many people who are forced to stand like a dog trapped in a cage,
(i)
and if they so desired in life, this punishment would be easy to escape,
(j)
for all one has to do is be on time, respect a deadline, and arrive on time to the stage."
(i)

I thought on this for a time and agreed with the punishment of this shape,
(j)
for it seemed to be reasonable to torture these felons with what torment they had used on others.
(k)
So, I then turned to my companion and we left with the swish from our cape.
(j)

Procrastinating is a sin that I very much detest, but is one that I have found myself to be at fault for. I have always hated when I ask somebody for a favor and they agree to a certain deadline, but then force me to wait for them after they had promised a certain time. So, I put procrastinators in a sort of loading station where they are told they will be allowed to leave Hell, but the ship is procrastinating and taking its time in order to get to the platform. This forces the sinners to experience the exact feelings that they have forced other people to have.

Zack Papianni, Period 6

The Procrastinators

Level 3.5


My canto would be placed in level 3.5 after Gluttony and before Greed. This level houses the Procrastinators, those who wasted their time because of distractions and waited until the last minute to accomplish anything. Much of their life was wasted and many opportunities to become someone were taken for granted. These imprisoned souls are punished every hour of their immortal lives. In this level there is a gate which leads to the outside world where they can get another chance at life and start over. There is a timer on top of the gate which is set to one hour. As the timer gets closer to zero the gate begins to close. The souls are placed a mile from the gate and all they have to do to be free is reach the gate but there is a catch. They are unable to move until the timer reaches the last ten minutes. After that they are free from their invisible chains and they have to rush to the gate before the timer reaches zero. As they get closer to the gate the ground begins to burn their feet and they start to feel heavier. If they are unable to reach the gate in time they are transported back to the start and have to run again.

As we traveled further into the third circle (A)
The procrastinators came into view (B)
All of them extremely tired and with blisters on their feet (C)

I asked Virgil what he knew (B)
About the souls who line up at the mete (C)
He told me they waited for the cue (B)

And it was the timer they had to beat (C)
They are the ones who wasted time (D)
and waited until the last minute to complete (C)

Any task that was prime (D)
As punishment they run towards the gate (E)
burning their feet because of their crime (D)

The timer is set to an hour but they have to wait (E)
until the last ten minutes are left (F)
to run the mile and escape their fate (E)

But as they ran they began to feel heft (F)
and they were soon exhausted before they could reach (G)
while their will to run was also bereft (F)

We watched as they suffered and let out a screech (G)
No one made it and they had to start over (H)
For all eternity to God they will beseech (G)

I realized the souls would never crossover (H)
And soon Virgil told me that we should get going (I)
But a shade called out to me and asked to come over (H)

He told me he had some advice worth knowing (I)
"Do not waste your time and you will not be (J)
like us doomed to reap what we have been sowing" (I)

After our talk i was finally ready (J)
To continue the journey through treacherous Hell (K)
And in the distance i could finally see (J)

The descent down that endless stairwell (K)
As i approached the stairs i felt very sad (L)
Because i knew that the man would never dispel (K)

The terrible fate because he was forbad (L)
From leaving the level of false hope (M)
All because he wasted the life he had (L)

Bryan Mendoza, Period 6

The Animal Killers

We continued on, shaking from the screams of the violent.
Our steps echoed in the eerie darkness,
Until we reached the middle layer before the 8th ring.

Virgil paused and pointed to a huge cage within the abyss,
With rusted bars that contained shrieking,
Only hell could rightfully warn a soul to feel this hopeless.

The floor was dirty, the dungeon was dusty, the cage wreaking.
I squinted in the shadows, and out of twisted curiosity
I found savage beasts running rampant, and screaming.

Primal and barbaric, their frenzied snarls sounded like a monstrosity.
One million of them were bare,
on all fours, their eyes full of ferocity.

Chains, whips, and guns were found in the lair,
“They are humans”, Virgil revealed.
I dropped my jaw in shock as I continued to stare.

“For their offenses, they are sealed
Within their violent bodies forever
To await torturous pain that only maliciousness can yield.

Stripped of control, they will never
escape Artemis’ contraption and wrath.
For she herself forged the bars to never sever.

Dog fighters, Dove associates, D&G followed their path,
To torture animals for their gain.
Fear, distrust, and anger between animal and man is now the aftermath.

Artemis sent them here for the selfish pain,
They inflicted on innocent creatures for money and fashion.
A goddess of the hunt, she has realized times have changed.

She visits from time to time without compassion,
Whips them, burns them, and chains them all,
Using all of eternity to teach them the same lesson.”

We walked past the cage and watched them maul,
Each other, gnawing at flesh and breaking bone.
As we reached Level 8, the snapping jaws never ceased the brawl.


Explanatory Paragraph
I chose something very near and dear to me, which are animal rights. I’m against the mistreatment/ abuse and manipulation of animals and the act of hunting. The ring I created lies between the 7th (The Violent) and 8th (Fraudulent and Malicious) because animal abusers are cruel, malicious, and neglect the fact that they should preserve life instead of destroy it. Artemis, Greek Goddess of the hunt and wild animals, herself made the cage that keeps the sinners inside. The sinners in their previous lives (cosmetic and food companies, dog fighters, fashion designers) are all guilty of mistreating and or killing animals for their own superficial gain. Perfumes, chocolates, deodorants, and make ups are tested on animals, as while animals are murdered for their fur for the sake of the runway. Artemis realizes that people are killing animals now for superficial reasons (not reasons of survival) and is angered by the slaughter of her precious creatures. Millions of the sinners are kept in a huge cage and are stripped of all the humanly control of their bodies. These sinners took advantage of animals because they were “inferior”, so now they are turned into the same “beasts” they killed. They are forced to live in eternity of savagery and constant violence amongst each other. It is one hundred percent primal and wild within the bars of the cage. The sinners fight amongst each other and even kill one another. Artemis visits periodically and tortures the wild humans. The punishment fits the crime because Artemis inflicts the same pain and fear the sinners inflicted on animals in their previous lives.

Renee Curva, Period 6

Shopaholics

Those who spent too much money had
drifted into this level of Hell.
These souls were only concerned with the latest fad.

Nothing seemed well
when these lost shoppers shouted
because they did no like their new perfume's smell.

Their judgements were clouded
by the extreme time spent shopping,
but the tortured souls now pouted.

Their punishments seemed cruel,
but reflected their actions;
selfishness ran rampant on this level.

Virgil bided me: "The gate to this level
is dressed like a Walmart.
The occasion is black as these souls: Black Friday."

I approached the gate and the glass doors slid open.
The door buster signs and sales
littered the walls of this horrid Walmart.

The deceased who used to ignore everything
to line up and wait for sales
were now constantly trampled by an endless

hoard of crazed shopoholics.
The carts rolled over their fingers,
and their faces were mashed into

the linoleum by the feet of angry shoppers.
I said to my guide, "If their intentions were good
too save their families money,

Then why do they suffer
at the hands of what they loved?"
And he to me: "These people were

greedy and did nothing to stop.
They blew off all they knew,
especially for a boutique shop."

As we ventured through the slew
of their blood and dismembered fingers,
I decided it was time to leave and venture through.



The sin I chose to depict in my interpretation was obsessive shopping. In this poem, Dante and Virgil find themselves in a new level of Hell: 3.5. This is the appropriate level of Hell for these shopping souls because it is in-between the gluttonous, greedy, and wasteful. The sinners on this level became so involved with bargain hunting and door busters that they shut out everything in their lives, including God. Although their intentions to save money may have been good, they lost the light and blew off their loved ones, leading them on a path straight to Hell. Since obsessive shopping is often associated with Black Friday, these lost souls are eternally stuck in a Walmart on Black Friday, being trampled by angry customers and run over with shopping carts. This reflects the insanity that has occurred on recent Black Fridays, when people have literally been trampled to death because of a sale.

Brendan McGeown, Period 6

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

Littering

As we journeyed further down into the world
I could only watch in horror as to what I saw.
These people, however, did seem fit for they're pain.

The screams tore through me like a rip-saw.
Even to say what I was witnessing would cause an eye-strain.
These sinners were buried under tons of garbage which somewhat resembled cole slaw.

The smell of the trash left an appalling odor that rattled the brain
Into making oneself regurgitate.
The sinners also got struck with shards of glass that left a maroon bloodstain.

The garbage was flung onto each until it would accumulate
Into a giant pile of trash
Until it was ready to relocate.

The piles were put on a conveyor belt about to be in a mash.
The blood ran thick on the rubber as the sinners
Made their way, no time to dash.

In front they can see a deep pit.
They don't know what's ahead.
They should have thrown out their trash instead.

On the conveyor belt to their doom
A pit full of sinners mixed with the trash
Decaying and rotting with the maggots.

They pile up with the smell rising and burning the eyes.
One by one the mounds fall in.
They stack still never reaching the top.

The maggots eat their skin and suck them dry.
The trash entering their wounds rot them inside.
Skulls and bones lay at the bottom.

Wallowing in filth these sinners get what they deserve.
Should've made sure the trash made it in the can.
The litterers laid there decaying away and no hope to ever get out of the pit.

This canto is about the litterers. They would go in the seventh level of hell, because they are expressing violence towards the environment. They aren't keeping it clean and basically hurting it. For their punishment each of the litterers are put on a conveyor belt buried under tons of trash. In the trash is broken glass which wounds the sinners and makes them bleed leaving a trail on the conveyor belt. They make their way to a pit where the trash keeps piling up but never seems to get to the top. Once in the pit the maggots will feast on the litterers skin and suck the blood out of them, while the trash makes it into the wounds and rots the body from the inside. Some litterers are already completely eaten and their skeletons lay at the bottom of the pile. Since they were hurting mother nature because they didn't properly dispose of their trash, the trash disposes of them.

Shayne Kamat, Period 6

Monday, December 19, 2011

Discrimination

As we stepped off Nessus's boat and onto land,
My eyes cast a glance upon an endless row
Of shacks that sat along the fiery river.

The places were in no better care than were
The many shantytowns that came plenty
After the darkest Tuesday: old wood made me deter

Myself from deciding to enter any
Of these ugly houses. They were together
Packed inward, with the space of just one body

Separating one dwelling from another.
The denizens of this unsightly area
Were cloaked in nothing but simple attires

That once covered their bodies from the neck down.
Now the garments were tattered, torn, singed, soiled,
And any combination of the four looks

Of a wanderer. An unknown action had
Burned the bodies of these helpless wretched souls,
While the brothers of Nessus lashed their backs

With metal hook whips dipped into the river.
A large wave from the molten Phlegethon
Struck one of the homes, setting the shack alight.

The fire spread to the other shacks in the
Instant that a horsefly takes to flap its wings.
The centaurs whipped the souls of the condemned and,

With the lack of water apparent, ordered
Them to destroy their own places so as to
Halt the spread of the fire. The blaze caught

The denizens as they took down their own quarters,
Charring their flesh even as they continued
To take down the scorching embers of old wood
.
“It appears that we have come not at the right
Time, master,” I say. “Everyone seems to be
In a panic regarding this fervent blaze.”

“The fires here are a constant occurrence,”
My guide explained. “More are by the horizon.
This place holds many persons of prominence

Who violently rejects people unlike himself.
It is not wise to linger; the fire will cease
Only at the gate that holds the suicides.”

With that, my great master ushered me to turn,
Towards the forest that grew at the black edge
Of the community that forever burns.


As the poets step off of Nessus’s boat after crossing the Phlegethon, they arrive at a large decrepit village, comprised of wooden shanties. The people here are charred to various degrees, and are whipped with molten hooks. A wave of fire causes a blaze to erupt. With no water available, the souls are ordered to take down their shacks to stop the blaze. Those closest to the fire are burned alive, but are forced to continue to demolish their burning homes.

This is the QUARTERS OF THE DISCRIMINANT, which houses the souls of those who judged people based on their beliefs or skin color. The souls are forced to live in the shacks of slavehouses, with only a simple cloth as their personal belongings. The fire is the rejection that the souls emanated in their lifetime: no matter how much they tried to stop it, they could never put it out completely before it burned them. This is only heightened by the presence of the overseeing centaurs.

Virgil states that the fire will engulf their area soon, so they do not speak to anyone, and walk into the next ring of level seven.

Greg Rycharski, Period 1

Nail Biting


Sorrow dawned on me as I looked at the detail,
a party room filled with sequence
and in it, sad looking souls, never quite looking tip-top.

Nervousness has consequences--
their fingertips bled
on big hands, near to their broken mouths, all adolescences

Deadlines engraved in their heads, unreachable goals only lie ahead.
Worry is what they wasted their life on, living it all wrong.
Never once evaluating what exists rather than what's in their head.

Now they waste their time in hell in the waste they did when they felt they were strong,
by biting their nails forever
a disgusting habit they wished they hadn't done for so long.

"Now we wish our habit would have been severed.
For those whose nervousness was pushed to the brink.
Beautiful nails? Never.

Slowly and slowly they shrink,
until there's nothing more to chew.
they're gone even before you can blink",

I heard one mumble about how there was nothing else to do.
But now a punishment to match,
I guess it's where they belong just like a pair, like a baby and its coo.

The destroyed, once lovely, blond adolescence wanting to catch
me up, by saying aloud, "My nails dwindled away and my mouth suffered greatly.
Hell became alive on Earth something wicked like a witch."

Life was no better than hell is now. They spend their time worrying overwhelmingly
now condemned to worry about worrying, starring
at what once was and will never be, sadly.

The young boys and girls, in the figures they were when stress had taken over, sharing
the same nervous thoughts, the same memory, and the same broken jaws and bleeding
fingers, lurking in a wonderful ballroom, pondering

Why they aren't dancing, instead of dancing, why they aren't singing,
instead of just singing, thinking, instead of doing. This is how they lived
and this is why they died. They could have been loving

Instead of questioning their love and who they loved.
They bit their nails; but that's not their only crime. They wasted their lives a long the way
And now worrying is not their only punishment because they lied,

Lied to themselves that nervous habits will make the stress go away
Now broken and ugly they remain
Hurt and scarred by their own hands, and now they're here to stay.


As Dante enters the third and a half level, paralleled to the level that contained the sins of the Wasteful, he sees a ballroom. In the room young boys and girls linger in their loneliness. This is where the nail bitters are left to stay for eternity, in a hell that appears to be quite nice, initially. However, once Dante is able to fully see those who reside here, his heart aches for them. The sinners look young, but destroyed. Their hands large and noticeable, with nails bitten down to the core and blood dripping down from each finger. Their mouths matched the wounds their fingers developed, chipped teeth, blood tinted tongues, and distorted jaws. They are forced to sit in their thoughts, as if sentenced to a hell they created in their own minds. The nail bitters spent their lives worrying, being inactive, and wasting their time and opportunities on petty thoughts. They share a similar memory of being at a dance they were too nervous to participate in. Now they suffer through that painful memory unable to resist biting their nails, forever- past the point of immense pain and anguish.

Kristina Ripp, Period 1