Isaac Williams

Isaac Williams Poems

Isaac Williams Biography

Born in West Orange, New Jersey, I grew to be no more than a stubborn child with a complete lack of direction in my life – as my parents could better describe. From the hour of my birth until the days of Connecticut middle school, I stood strong as a spoiled and helpless child who wanted nothing less than pointless things to keep my level of satisfaction stable. When it was time to go to school I would stand my ground to complain about making the proprietary daily appearance in the classroom, all until my mother would force me into the car and take me into class. At least once a week (as my memory serves) I had the intended “hissy-fit” to avoid school – from the beginning of Pre-School all the way until the final days of first grade; and the Tuesday evening “Hebrew School” classes did not have a much different outcome. During the elementary years I couldn’t find any sort of interests that I was able to hold on to for long periods of time. Sports didn’t interest me, I wasn’t much of a prodigy with piano or guitar, I had no artistic skills to speak of, and I was certainly no academic genius. In addition, I didn’t have many friends and I didn’t get along with many people due to fact that there wasn’t much that interested me. So when my father informed the family that we would be moving to New Milford because of business convenience, it didn’t affect me at all. The friends I had seemed upset but to be truthful, I couldn’t seem to care. I had begun 3rd grade in December of 1998, and the first few days of going to school in New Milford were better than any few days of living in West Orange. It seemed to me as if everyone that was living in New Milford had lived here all their lives, I tended to think that I was the only one who had seen an environment apart from that of Connecticut’s; this concept I enjoyed. There were so many people I felt in place with, and yet an equal number I disliked. The friends that I made here in Connecticut were so much more trusting and pleasant than most citizens of New Jersey were. Another object of my satisfaction was the level of New Milford education, which seemed much better than that the schools in West Orange. Thus allowing me the feeling of having more opportunity to discover what I was capable of. In 5th grade, I became quite interested in art, and I soon began to grow very serious with the studies of human realism a year or so later. In addition to my interests with art, I began taking drum lessons as simply a potential hobby to grow on the side. By 8th grade, I had developed into a very skilled artist; however, I felt that music seemed to take on more of an importance. It wasn’t until the beginning days of the summer before 9th grade that it seemed the artistic desires of my future began to fade away. I began to turn my head toward music, ignoring any other possibilities of a different life determination. When the time of high school had finally come, I felt as if it had nothing to offer me. Subconsciously grasping that concept, I was defocussing on school and only barely concentrating on musical progress. In the late summer, an abrupt change occurred within me. I had suddenly decided to focus on music to excel to a conservatory level; this idea has retained strong in my mind still. Of all the conservatories that I had thought of, Juilliard seemed to stick out in my mind. I had been recommended by a graduate of the School to Simon Boyar, the chairman of Juilliard's Pre-College Division in percussion,2005. At this time, I felt my life moving with the direction I had felt it needed to have. I found myself coming through many school auditions and, in January 2006, I began studying with Simon at the Juilliard School and have since loved to be in such a 'high-talent' environment, longing to someday be a part of it. I suppose with all of this now behind me, I can accurately articulate the philosophies I have created to keep my life going. For one, I believe that education and life both coexist as constant and never-ending pieces of every person's life span. As Jeffery Milarsky, a remarkable member of the New York Philharmonic Orchestra and a Master of Music graduate of The Juilliard School once told me, “No type of education stops. As far as I see it, I'm still a beginner”. -- Along with my love for music and my ambition regarding it, I have also discovered a liking for writing during the summer before my junior year in high school. Yet as school seems the best place for me to express myself on any familiar topic, my teachers continue to heckle me for my verbose nature. Poetry however, I feel is undebatable in terms of the 'quality' of sentence structure. Structural aspects of poetry are for the poet to decide, and thus is impossibly incorrect. So please read my poetry and let me understand certain faults you can pick out, and offer some 'constructive criticism'. You might even decide to comment positively. :))

The Best Poem Of Isaac Williams

Magical Times

I associate Da Vinci with symmetrical human constituents,
as I consider Stravinsky and his octotonic passages,
while I infer my death to be one that will be incredible, yet inevitable,
and from my corpse all will find themselves inseparable.
But I fear not, for my troubles may be portrayed in a toy,
or a small magical fellow with the face of a boy.
However an elf may not suffice to explain my depart,
(but a bleeding heart, yes) of where stand here we,
to a place unknown by all mankind veritably.

I take time of my time to discover something lucid,
as I sit here in conditions which I consider squalid.
But this time is my time, and my time alone,
the only time, I believe, I can call myself at home.

These are magical times indeed, no less may they be referred,
for a gremlin and I agreed, on one's death if such be heard.

---

The sour times of life however prove restless and provocative,
but obligatory as well, may we not be thieved nor pocketed.

Are not these times destructive?
Why no and far from it. They are not in any way counter-productive.
How may you assume? May death be wished upon you!
Well I only sought to ascertain some truth to this issue!

---

My problems are distressing as you may see,
they make my life one empty of glee.
But when I am filled with abasement, and I see only hypocrisy,
and it is only disconsolation that reaps and intoxicates me,
I can see only light, and I can hear no more whines,
for this is the reemergence, of my magical times.

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