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Jolly Roger wrote:William Carlos Williams is your man. Check it out:
so much depends
upon
a red wheel
barrow
glazed with rain
water
beside the white
chickens.
What makes it an excellent poem to analyze:
1) It's short
2) It's totally wide open to interpretation
3) It's short
Robert William Service wrote:In the dark and damp of the alley cold,
Lay the Christmas tree that hadn't been sold;
By a shopman dourly thrown outside;
With the ruck and rubble of Christmas-tide;
Trodden deep in the muck and mire,
Unworthy even to feed a fire...
So I stopped and salvaged that tarnished tree,
And thus is the story it told to me:
"My Mother was Queen of the forest glade,
And proudly I prospered in her shade;
For she said to me: 'When I am dead,
You will be monarch in my stead,
And reign, as I, for a hundred years,
A tower of triumph amid your peers,
When I crash in storm I will yield you space;
Son, you will worthily take my place.'
"So I grew in grace like a happy child,
In the heart of the forest free and wild;
And the moss and the ferns were all about,
And the craintive mice crept in and out;
And a wood-dove swung on my highest twig,
And a chipmunk chattered: 'So big! So big!'
And a shy fawn nibbled a tender shoot,
And a rabbit nibbled under my root...
Oh, I was happy in rain and shine
As I thought of the destiny that was mine!
Then a man with an axe came cruising by
And I knew that my fate was to fall and die.
"With a hundred others he packed me tight,
And we drove to a magic city of light,
To an avenue lined with Christmas trees,
And I thought: may be I'll be one of these,
Tinselled with silver and tricked with gold,
A lovely sight for a child to behold;
A-glitter with lights of every hue,
Ruby and emerald, orange and blue,
And kiddies dancing, with shrieks of glee -
One might fare worse than a Christmas tree.
"So they stood me up with a hundred more
In the blaze of a big department store;
But I thought of the forest dark and still,
And the dew and the snow and the heat and the chill,
And the soft chinook and the summer breeze,
And the dappled deer and the birds and the bees...
I was so homesick I wanted to cry,
But patient I waited for someone to buy.
And some said 'Too big,' and some 'Too small,'
And some passed on saying nothing at all.
Then a little boy cried: Ma, buy that one,'
But she shook her head: 'Too dear, my son."
So the evening came, when they closed the store,
And I was left on the littered floor,
A tree unwanted, despised, unsold,
Thrown out at last in the alley cold."
Then I said: "Don't sorrow; at least you'll be
A bright and beautiful New Year's tree,
All shimmer and glimmer and glow and gleam,
A radiant sight like a fairy dream.
For there is a little child I know,
Who lives in poverty, want and woe;
Who lies abed from morn to night,
And never has known an hour's delight..."
So I stood the tree at the foot of her bed:
"Santa's a little late," I said.
"Poor old chap! Snowbound on the way,
But he's here at last, so let's be gay."
Then she woke from sleep and she saw you there,
And her eyes were love and her lips were prayer.
And her thin little arms were stretched to you
With a yearning joy that they never knew.
She woke from the darkest dark to see
Like a heavenly vision, that Christmas Tree.
Her mother despaired and feared the end,
But from that day she began to mend,
To play, to sing, to laugh with glee...
Bless you, O little Christmas Tree!
You died, but your life was not in vain:
You helped a child to forget her pain,
And let hope live in our hearts again.
In summer's heat, and mid-time of the day,
To rest my limbs, upon a bed I lay,
One window shut, the other open stood,
Which gave such light, as twinkles in a wood,
Like twilight glimpse at setting of the sun,
Or night being past, and yet not day begun.
Such light to shamefast maidens must be shown,
Where they may sport, and seem to be unknown.
Then came Corinna in a long loose gown,
Her white neck hid with tresses hanging down,
Resembling fair Semiramis going to bed,
Or Lais of a thousand lovers sped.
I snatched her gown: being thin, the harm was small,
Yet strived she to be covered therewithal,
And striving thus as one that would be cast,
Betrayed herself, and yielded at the last.
Stark naked as she stood before mine eye,
Not one wen in her body could I spy,
What arms and shoulders did I touch and see,
How apt her breasts were to be pressed by me,
How smooth a belly, under her waist saw I,
How large a leg, and what a lusty thigh?
To leave the rest, all liked me passing well,
I clinged her naked body, down she fell,
Judge you the rest, being tired she bade me kiss.
Jove send me more such afternoons as this!
Anarchist wrote:"Lesbia" Cattalus
Talking Turkeys by Benjamin Zephaniah wrote:Be nice to yu turkeys dis christmas
Cos' turkeys just wanna hav fun
Turkeys are cool, turkeys are wicked
An every turkey has a Mum.
Be nice to yu turkeys dis christmas,
Don't eat it, keep it alive,
It could be yu mate, an not on your plate
Say, Yo! Turkey I'm on your side.
I got lots of friends who are turkeys
An all of dem fear christmas time,
Dey wanna enjoy it, dey say humans destroyed it
An humans are out of dere mind,
Yeah, I got lots of friends who are turkeys
Dey all hav a right to a life,
Not to be caged up an genetically made up
By any farmer an his wife.
Turkeys just wanna play reggae
Turkeys just wanna hip-hop
Can yu imagine a nice young turkey saying,
'I cannot wait for de chop',
Turkeys like getting presents, dey wanna watch christmas TV,
Turkeys hav brains an turkeys feel pain
In many ways like yu an me.
I once knew a turkey called...Turkey
He said "Benji explain to me please,
Who put de turkey in christmas
An what happens to christmas trees?",
I said "I am not too sure turkey
But itÕs nothing to do wid Christ Mass
Humans get greedy an waste more dan need be
An business men mek loadsa cash'.
Be nice to yu turkey dis christmas
Invite dem indoors fe sum greens
Let dem eat cake an let dem partake
In a plate of organic grown beans,
Be nice to yu turkey dis christmas
An spare dem de cut of de knife,
Join Turkeys United an dey'll be delighted
An yu will mek new friends 'FOR LIFE'.
MeDeFe wrote:If you want "deeper meaning and stuff like that", don't do Poe. Poe's a great poet, but he deliberately didn't put any deeper meaning into his poems and stories.
btownmeggy wrote:ROFLMAO
Jafnhár wrote:Now, that is an interesting point of view.
Simon Armitage - I SayI Say I Say wrote:
Anyone here had a go at themselves
for a laugh? Anyone opened their wrists
with a blade in the bath? Those in the dark
at the back, listen hard. Those at the front
in the know, those of us who have, hands up,
let's show that inch of lacerated skin
between the forearm and the fist. Let's tell it
like it is: strong drink, a crimson tidemark
round the tub, a yard of lint, white towels
washed a dozen times, still pink. Tough luck.
A passion then for watches, bangles, cuffs.
A likely story: you were lashed by brambles
picking berries from the woods. Come clean, come good,
repeat with me the punch line 'Just like blood'
when those at the back rush forward to say
how a little love goes a long long long way.
qwert wrote:Can i ask you something?What is porpose for you to open these Political topic in ConquerClub? Why you mix politic with Risk? Why you not open topic like HOT AND SEXY,or something like that.
Jolly Roger wrote:William Carlos Williams is your man. Check it out:
so much depends
upon
a red wheel
barrow
glazed with rain
water
beside the white
chickens.
Wayne wrote:Wow, with a voice like that Dancing Mustard must get all the babes!
Garth wrote:Yeah, I bet he's totally studly and buff.
btownmeggy wrote:Anarchist wrote:"Lesbia" Cattalus
I, too, really love Catullus, but he's not originally in English. Also, which poem are you referring to since about 90% of his are 'to Lesbia'... which number?
Jolly Roger wrote:William Carlos Williams is your man. Check it out:
so much depends
upon
a red wheel
barrow
glazed with rain
water
beside the white
chickens.
What makes it an excellent poem to analyze:
1) It's short
2) It's totally wide open to interpretation
3) It's short
Anarchist wrote:It was the one dedicating his love for her, and declaring to the world that they should not mourn his passing, but to celebrate his life,as a romantic.
You happen to know it?
Guiscard wrote:If you want pretty interesting but (reasonably) wasy to analyse stuff I'd check out Simon Armitage. We studied the Dead Sea Poems at A-Level, and it is still probably one of my favourite poetry collections.
'I Say I Say I Say', whilst really morbid, is a great poem to analyse... Deals with the issue of self harm, suicide attempts and suchlike as both a confessional and as a sort of 'education' for those who don't understand (those at the back).Simon Armitage - I SayI Say I Say wrote:
Anyone here had a go at themselves
for a laugh? Anyone opened their wrists
with a blade in the bath? Those in the dark
at the back, listen hard. Those at the front
in the know, those of us who have, hands up,
let's show that inch of lacerated skin
between the forearm and the fist. Let's tell it
like it is: strong drink, a crimson tidemark
round the tub, a yard of lint, white towels
washed a dozen times, still pink. Tough luck.
A passion then for watches, bangles, cuffs.
A likely story: you were lashed by brambles
picking berries from the woods. Come clean, come good,
repeat with me the punch line 'Just like blood'
when those at the back rush forward to say
how a little love goes a long long long way.
sam_levi_11 wrote:Guiscard wrote:If you want pretty interesting but (reasonably) wasy to analyse stuff I'd check out Simon Armitage. We studied the Dead Sea Poems at A-Level, and it is still probably one of my favourite poetry collections.
'I Say I Say I Say', whilst really morbid, is a great poem to analyse... Deals with the issue of self harm, suicide attempts and suchlike as both a confessional and as a sort of 'education' for those who don't understand (those at the back).Simon Armitage - I SayI Say I Say wrote:
Anyone here had a go at themselves
for a laugh? Anyone opened their wrists
with a blade in the bath? Those in the dark
at the back, listen hard. Those at the front
in the know, those of us who have, hands up,
let's show that inch of lacerated skin
between the forearm and the fist. Let's tell it
like it is: strong drink, a crimson tidemark
round the tub, a yard of lint, white towels
washed a dozen times, still pink. Tough luck.
A passion then for watches, bangles, cuffs.
A likely story: you were lashed by brambles
picking berries from the woods. Come clean, come good,
repeat with me the punch line 'Just like blood'
when those at the back rush forward to say
how a little love goes a long long long way.
i like that poem, maybe cause i selfharm and am trying to stop, that is sorta my poem. ty mate.
Wayne wrote:Wow, with a voice like that Dancing Mustard must get all the babes!
Garth wrote:Yeah, I bet he's totally studly and buff.
Wayne wrote:Wow, with a voice like that Dancing Mustard must get all the babes!
Garth wrote:Yeah, I bet he's totally studly and buff.
sam_levi_11 wrote:i didnt ask for a sarcastic comment from you or anyone
sam_levi_11 wrote:is there no reasoning with retards like you.
sam_levi_11 wrote:just f*ck off and stop being a twat
Wayne wrote:Wow, with a voice like that Dancing Mustard must get all the babes!
Garth wrote:Yeah, I bet he's totally studly and buff.
Dancing Mustard wrote:sam_levi_11 wrote:i didnt ask for a sarcastic comment from you or anyone
You kinda did when you started attention seeking on a public forumsam_levi_11 wrote:is there no reasoning with retards like you.
This comes from someone who 'reasoned' himself into self-harm. Yeah, good one...sam_levi_11 wrote:just f*ck off and stop being a twat
Awww, cry me a river little boy. How about you f*ck off and cut yourself some more, because of course that wouldn't be behaving like a twat.
Oh, and while you're there PM Kramsey and UCABears, I hear they started a clan for people like you
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