S- Summary:
Tomatoes are awesome, for at harvest time there is nothing better to eat than a tomato. In a deeper sense, it represents what normal things mean to people in need of them.

S- Shifts:
Shifts from talking about tomatoes to talking about other foods, such as onions, oil, pepper, parsley, and potatoes.

T- Title:
It is a dedication to the humble tomato, which even though is depreciated by common people, it is treasured by others.

T- Theme:
People must esteem everything in life, as insignificant as it may seem.

I- Imagery:
"Summer light is halved like a tomato" = Day parted in half, it is noon.
"Tomato invades the kitchen" = Tomatoes are everywhere.
"It sheds its own light" = Tomatoes radiate with beauty.
"We must murder it" = Exaggerating the slicing of tomatoes.
"It is wed to the clear onion" = It complements the taste of onions nicely.

C- Connotations:
"Red viscera" = Guts (Violent).
"Fiery color" = Vibrant, passionate.
"Bubble vigorously" = Bubble aggressively.
"Hemispheres" = Makes a tomato seem large and monumental.

C- Conflict:
Man vs. Nature - Pablo expresses his love towards tomatoes.
Man vs. Man - In this poem, tomatoes indirectly represent the common man, causing Pablo to indirectly have a conflict with man.

AURORA BOREALIS 
By Nicolas V. 

We are sitting on these railroad tracks, 
in the outskirts of Vancouver. 
It's winter, and we're freezing, 
but we have each other to keep us warm. 

Surrounded by a white a blanket of snow, 
we look up at a billion stars. 
It's dark, 
and the only light that helps me see your face
is contributed by the moon. 

Then nature took the sky, and used it as a canvas. 
It painted the most beautiful picture 
that I have ever seen.

A stroke of green, 
some red, 
some white was added, 
as well as a touch of blue.

The wind whispered into our ears, 
as we witnessed how
the aurora borealis faded 
into the darkness of the night.

I WANT YOU TO KNOW
By Nicolas V.

Like a citrus fruit,
you are sweet and acrid at the same time.
Some people find it difficult,
to deal with you,
but like a stick shift car,
some don't know how to work with you,
however, I do.

You are a mermaid encountered by Odysseus,
for when you sing, you put a spell on me.
You capture me, and you don't want me to go,
But what I want you to know is
that I don't want to go.

WE USED TO BE ONE DROP 
By Nicolas V. 

We trickled down together, 
We landed with a big splash, 
And mother nature decided to 
Separate us. 

I wish we were back together, 
Like those nights in the blue ocean, 
But when the sky turned grey, 
These memories went away.

I must now be intrepid,
and jump from my leaf to yours,
because even though we're next to each other,
there is a gap in between us.

We used to be one drop,
but now we are torn apart.

DEAR MICHAEL
By Nicolas V.

I wish I had known you better,
You had an acumen for singing, however,
Your mouth is a secret love letter,
Sealed forever.

I can see you, even though you're not here.
I can hear you, even though you're not talking anywhere near.
I can feel you, even though you're gone now, dear.

People made fun of you, so you used to hide,
But to me, you are a watermelon,
Rough and ugly on the outside,
But on the inside sweet and nice, not a felon.

I thank you for the things you taught me,
Especially, how to dance.
When I dance like you I feel free
I wish you were here, I wish life gave you a second chance.

I thought the media was just trying to confuse,
To spread gossip during a hot and sticky day in June,
But later came the terrible news,
That you had passed away at noon.

Your daughter's words at your funeral touched me,
Like Michelangelo made Adam touch God,
I felt a connection to you through the TV,
It was rather strange and odd.

I will continue dancing for as long as I am able to,
I understand that life is a cycle,
And your death, we cannot undo,
Oh, dear Michael.

Of all the poems by Pablo Neruda that I read, "Ode To My Socks" was by far the best one. It talks about a benevolent woman who gave the speaker a pair of socks. Because it was winter, and the speaker had no socks, he treasures them, and writes vehemently about them in this poem. I like the deep meaning of this poem. Some people don't realize how fortunate they are to have so many things. Something as insignificant as a pair of socks can mean a lot to someone who doesn't have any. This poem makes me want to give thanks for all that I have.
 
ODE TO MY SOCKS
By Pablo Neruda

Mara Mori brought me
a pair of socks
which she knitted herself with her sheepherder's hands,
two socks as soft as rabbits.
I slipped my feet into them
as if they were two cases
knitted with threads of twilight and goatskin,
Violent socks,
my feet were two fish made of wool,
two long sharks
sea blue, shot through
by one golden thread,
two immense blackbirds,
two cannons,
my feet were honored in this way
by these heavenly socks.
They were so handsome for the first time
my feet seemed to me unacceptable
like two decrepit firemen,
firemen unworthy of that woven fire,
of those glowing socks.

Nevertheless, I resisted the sharp temptation
to save them somewhere as schoolboys
keep fireflies,
as learned men collect
sacred texts,
I resisted the mad impulse to put them
in a golden cage and each day give them
birdseed and pieces of pink melon.
Like explorers in the jungle
who hand over the very rare green deer
to the spit and eat it with remorse,
I stretched out my feet and pulled on
the magnificent socks and then my shoes.

The moral of my ode is this:
beauty is twice beauty
and what is good is doubly good
when it is a matter of two socks
made of wool in winter.