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What are some good poems?

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Postby unriggable on Mon May 07, 2007 7:51 pm

Nice one pepperoni.
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Postby Warrior987 on Mon May 07, 2007 8:03 pm

Iwrote this for Sophmore English. It doesn't rhyme but I still like it.

If many people know many things and less people know less things than how many people know of average things.

Many people know many things.
They know of the stars and the heavens
Of wars and friends long lost
But they all miss one thing.

Less people know less things
Of fame and fortune they know not
of poverty and pain they do
It is they who be thy common hero.

How many people know of average things
They have knowledge and intelligence
But they lack the wisdom to proceed
Tis they who lack the will to rise.

Of all the people and all the things
they all miss but on thing
Fun.

----Then their is my Rap in the food rap thread.
An awkward morning beats a boring night

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Postby stinkycheese on Mon May 07, 2007 8:22 pm

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


This Is Just to Say
by William Carlos Williams

I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox

and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold

mmmmmmmmm plums, that's my favorite poem
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Postby CrazyAnglican on Mon May 07, 2007 10:45 pm

I like the Victorians, for analsis. They held so firmly to the standards of the day. It's like "Oh look, another simile!". Among them, this one is good.

Dover Beach
~

THE sea is calm to-night,
The tide is full, the moon lies fair
Upon the straits; -- on the French coast the light
Gleams and is gone; the cliffs of England stand,
Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay.
Come to the window, sweet is the night-air!
Only, from the long line of spray
Where the sea meets the moon-blanch'd land,
Listen! you hear the grating roar
Of pebbles which the waves draw back, and fling,
At their return, up the high strand,
Begin, and cease, and then again begin,
With tremulous cadence slow, and bring
The eternal note of sadness in.

Sophocles long ago
Heard it on the Aegean, and it brought
Into his mind the turbid ebb and flow
Of human misery; we
Find also in the sound a thought,
Hearing it by this distant northern sea.
The sea of faith
Was once, too, at the full, and round earth's shore
Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furl'd.
But now I only hear
Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar,
Retreating, to the breath
Of the night-wind, down the vast edges drear
And naked shingles of the world.

Ah, love, let us be true
To one another! for the world which seems
To lie before us like a land of dreams,
So various, so beautiful, so new,
Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,
Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain;
And we are here as on a darkling plain
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,
Where ignorant armies clash by night.


- Matthew Arnold


Pepperoni :lol: Dude I could never have pulled something like that off! Too cool.
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Postby Hitman079 on Mon May 07, 2007 11:39 pm

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.

this is The Christmas Tree. this may be impossible, but you could interpret the road not taken by robert frost or the cremation of sam mcgee by service[/quote]
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Postby Anarchist on Tue May 08, 2007 1:04 am

"City beneath the sea" Edgar Allen Poe

"Lesbia" Cattalus

and anything written by Ovidius
personally I like Elegy V

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!


By analyse do you mean rate it for its literary value?
Personally I always thought if you could not feel it then you werent getting the message....
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Postby btownmeggy on Tue May 08, 2007 10:04 am

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?
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Postby Guilty_Biscuit on Tue May 08, 2007 10:12 am

Ballad of Reading Gaol - Oscar Wilde

Far too long to study though.
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Postby spinwizard on Tue May 08, 2007 10:33 am

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'.
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Postby MeDeFe on Tue May 08, 2007 10:37 am

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.


It's a very rough paraphrase of what one of the professors here told us in one of his classes. I've forgotten the quote he gave us but it boiled down to Poe basically wanting to entertain with his works. No symbolism, no hidden meaning, just a lot of weird stuff that people could enjoy.
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Postby sam_levi_11 on Tue May 08, 2007 10:46 am

i never really liked it but when i was in yr 11 we read some poems and people had to read them out, and one was "love after love" and my freind read it out, and it wasn obviouslty about accepting who you are and a freind kerry reqad it looking at me, which sorta makes it memorable to me.
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Postby Guiscard on Tue May 08, 2007 11:03 am

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.

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Postby heavycola on Tue May 08, 2007 11:39 am

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.


HAHA i had this copied and ready to paste.


This is called 'The last barman poet'. it is by a little-known scrivener called Brian Flanagan (he was popular in the 80s):

I am the last barman poet
I see America drinking the fabulous cocktails I make
Americans getting stinky on something I stir or shake
The sex on the beach, the schnapps made from peach
The velvet hammer, the alabama slammer
I make things with juice and froth
The pink squirrel, the 3-toed sloth
I make drinks so sweet and snazzy
The iced tea, the kamakazi
The orgasm, the death spasm
The Singapore sling, the dingaling
America you've just been devoted to every flavor I got
But if you want to got loaded
Why don't you just order a shot?
Bar is open,ladies and gentlemen! WOO!
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Postby Dancing Mustard on Tue May 08, 2007 2:55 pm

T.S. Eliot - The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock (that's my favourite one, contender for best thing ever written in English I reckon)

John Betjeman - The Cockney Amorist (and I kinda like that one too, think it hits a whole lot of nails on the head. Kudos to anyone who can tell me which recent R+B song sampled it btw)
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Postby Anarchist on Tue May 08, 2007 4:19 pm

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?


I have to admit I wasnt aware of the number, it was part of a vast collection featuring Napoleans letters to Josephine, among other love poetry. Unfortunately I never have a reason to read them :evil:

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?
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Postby hawkeye on Tue May 08, 2007 5:18 pm

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


I think I had to analyze that one in 5th grade.
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Postby btownmeggy on Tue May 08, 2007 5:44 pm

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?


Maybe number V (my favorite Catullus!), maybe number VIII, could be one of any number.

I strongly recommend the Horace Gregory translation of Catullus... to everyone!
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Postby sam_levi_11 on Wed May 09, 2007 8:22 am

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.
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Postby Dancing Mustard on Wed May 09, 2007 8:38 am

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.
:-({|=
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Postby sam_levi_11 on Wed May 09, 2007 9:12 am

shut the f*ck up, at least im trying to stop
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Postby Dancing Mustard on Wed May 09, 2007 9:13 am

=D> =D> =D>

They are clapping because you are so brave
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Postby sam_levi_11 on Wed May 09, 2007 9:15 am

is there no reasoning with retards like you. i didnt ask for a sarcastic comment from you or anyone. so just f*ck off and stop being a twat
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Postby Dancing Mustard on Wed May 09, 2007 9:29 am

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 forum
sam_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 :wink:
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Postby sam_levi_11 on Wed May 09, 2007 9:35 am

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 forum
sam_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 :wink:


i didnt seek attention, i merely said why i think that poem is good

you dont reason yourself into it you prick.

no, behaving like a twat is what ur doing, what i do doesnt affect others, what u do makes them angry.

and the clan thing, thats just fucked up. didnt know about it though, lol, i dont need a clan, i already got one and if i didnt i wouldnt join that one
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