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Poetry...anyone care to share?
- Thread starter Beowulf
- Start date
To An Athlete Dying Young...
The time you won your town the race
We chaired you through the market-place;
Man and boy stood cheering by,
And home we brought you shoulder-high.
To-day, the road all runners come,
Shoulder-high we bring you home,
And set you at your threshold down,
Townsman of a stiller town.
Smart lad, to slip betimes away
From fields were glory does not stay
And early though the laurel grows
It withers quicker than the rose.
Eyes the shady night has shut
Cannot see the record cut,
And silence sounds no worse than cheers
After earth has stopped the ears:
Now you will not swell the rout
Of lads that wore their honours out,
Runners whom renown outran
And the name died before the man.
So set, before its echoes fade,
The fleet foot on the sill of shade,
And hold to the low lintel up
The still-defended challenge-cup.
And round that early-laurelled head
Will flock to gaze the strengthless dead,
And find unwithered on its curls
The garland briefer than a girl's.
- by A.E. Housman
The time you won your town the race
We chaired you through the market-place;
Man and boy stood cheering by,
And home we brought you shoulder-high.
To-day, the road all runners come,
Shoulder-high we bring you home,
And set you at your threshold down,
Townsman of a stiller town.
Smart lad, to slip betimes away
From fields were glory does not stay
And early though the laurel grows
It withers quicker than the rose.
Eyes the shady night has shut
Cannot see the record cut,
And silence sounds no worse than cheers
After earth has stopped the ears:
Now you will not swell the rout
Of lads that wore their honours out,
Runners whom renown outran
And the name died before the man.
So set, before its echoes fade,
The fleet foot on the sill of shade,
And hold to the low lintel up
The still-defended challenge-cup.
And round that early-laurelled head
Will flock to gaze the strengthless dead,
And find unwithered on its curls
The garland briefer than a girl's.
- by A.E. Housman
ROAD LESS TRAVELED by Robert Frost
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth
Then took the other as just as fair
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear
Though as for that, the passing there
Had worn them really about the same
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet, knowing how way leads onto way
I doubted if I should ever come back
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence
Two roads diverged in a wood
And I took the one less traveled by
<font color=white style="background-color: 3E3E3E;">And that has made all the difference</font ft>
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth
Then took the other as just as fair
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear
Though as for that, the passing there
Had worn them really about the same
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet, knowing how way leads onto way
I doubted if I should ever come back
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence
Two roads diverged in a wood
And I took the one less traveled by
<font color=white style="background-color: 3E3E3E;">And that has made all the difference</font ft>
W. H. Auden's FUNERAL BLUES...
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead.
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the woods;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
<hr>
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead.
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the woods;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
<hr>
Poetry is intended to be the clever and artful use of words, organized to communicate a thought. Sometimes the thoughts represent higher ideals, sometimes simple ironies. At least, poetry is a form of communication that requires some thought and organization, at best it is beautiful, moving, and possibly inspiring.
YOUNG UNREQUIETED LOVE
It begins with a thought
Closely pursued by a feeling
It dies with a thought
All but unwilling
By Lance B. Stillwell
YOUNG UNREQUIETED LOVE
It begins with a thought
Closely pursued by a feeling
It dies with a thought
All but unwilling
By Lance B. Stillwell
Mockingbird
New member
Tom, poetry means different things to different people, its kind of something you have to explore and discover yourself. Take Robert Frost's poem above. I picked that one, 'cause it's the easiest to dissect. =-)
"Two roads diverged in a yellow wood"
Taking just that line, what does it mean? having a fork in the road is a common symbol for a choice you have to make in life. Or, he could just be talking about two roads, litterally. It may mean other things, too. Think for a moment what other meanings and associations two roads diverging can have. Then, move on to the words yellow wood. What the devil does that mean? Well, with the word yellow, I might associate the words brightness and happy, and springtime. Taking it with the word wood (he means forest; I'm cheating a bit, but that's okay) I would think of growing, alive... I'm sure you can think of your own words as well.
"And sorry I could not travel both"
So what does this line mean? With the word "sorry" I would associate the words regret and wanting. "travel" go, choose direction, etc.
"And be one traveller, long I stood"
"and be one traveller" is an extension of the previous line. I can see how this could be confusing, so I'll go on a tangent for a bit. Connecting it with the previous line, it's "And sorry I could not travel both and be one traveller" Yeah, it's still a bit confusing, I know. The reason it is worded that way has to do with the meter of the verse, or the flow, if you like. The stressed and unstressed syllables make a pattern, kind of like music. Ignoring the meter, the sentace might be: "I wanted to travel both, and still be one person." With "long I stood" I would think of taking a long time to decide, being wishy-washy, indescisive, etc.
"And looked down one as far as I could"
Looking down the road, trying to see where it leads. Taking the symbol of the roads representing a choice in life (yes, i'm cheating again =-) "looked" can also mean weighing the consequences of each decision, trying to predict what each outcome would be.
"To where it bent in the undergrowth"
"Bent" a turn, something you can't see past, etc. "Undergrowth" weeds, thorny bushes, not easy to walk through, etc.
Then we take just that section and put it together.
"Two roads diverged in a yellow wood
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveller, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth."
I would say, the speaker came upon a choice in his life (two raods) when he was young (yellow wood). It was a rather difficult choice (sorry I could not travel both)(long I stood), and one of the choices looked rather difficult (undergrowth)
I'm not going to do the rest. Really, this is just an example, what the poem says to me. It may say something different to someone else, and that is fine. I don't think there's any right or wrong way to interpret a poem, we all have our own unique experiences that change our personal view of the world. Plkus, there's a lot more to be considered, like meter, and rhyme, alliteration (repeating consonant sounds, such as "she sells sea shells") etc. I would encourage you to finish with the rest of the poem, but you really don't have to. I know poetry is not for everybody, but you never know until you try. Poetry is a bit of a passion of mine, that's why I'm going on about it. =-) I love to just go into the library and pick a poet at random. =-) That's just me, though. I enjoy picking poems apart and seeing what they mean, but I can see how other people might find that tedious. In fact, most people will find this big long post of mine boring. Ha ha, sorry about that. Anyway, I'll shut up now.
Jarod
23 w/cf
"Two roads diverged in a yellow wood"
Taking just that line, what does it mean? having a fork in the road is a common symbol for a choice you have to make in life. Or, he could just be talking about two roads, litterally. It may mean other things, too. Think for a moment what other meanings and associations two roads diverging can have. Then, move on to the words yellow wood. What the devil does that mean? Well, with the word yellow, I might associate the words brightness and happy, and springtime. Taking it with the word wood (he means forest; I'm cheating a bit, but that's okay) I would think of growing, alive... I'm sure you can think of your own words as well.
"And sorry I could not travel both"
So what does this line mean? With the word "sorry" I would associate the words regret and wanting. "travel" go, choose direction, etc.
"And be one traveller, long I stood"
"and be one traveller" is an extension of the previous line. I can see how this could be confusing, so I'll go on a tangent for a bit. Connecting it with the previous line, it's "And sorry I could not travel both and be one traveller" Yeah, it's still a bit confusing, I know. The reason it is worded that way has to do with the meter of the verse, or the flow, if you like. The stressed and unstressed syllables make a pattern, kind of like music. Ignoring the meter, the sentace might be: "I wanted to travel both, and still be one person." With "long I stood" I would think of taking a long time to decide, being wishy-washy, indescisive, etc.
"And looked down one as far as I could"
Looking down the road, trying to see where it leads. Taking the symbol of the roads representing a choice in life (yes, i'm cheating again =-) "looked" can also mean weighing the consequences of each decision, trying to predict what each outcome would be.
"To where it bent in the undergrowth"
"Bent" a turn, something you can't see past, etc. "Undergrowth" weeds, thorny bushes, not easy to walk through, etc.
Then we take just that section and put it together.
"Two roads diverged in a yellow wood
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveller, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth."
I would say, the speaker came upon a choice in his life (two raods) when he was young (yellow wood). It was a rather difficult choice (sorry I could not travel both)(long I stood), and one of the choices looked rather difficult (undergrowth)
I'm not going to do the rest. Really, this is just an example, what the poem says to me. It may say something different to someone else, and that is fine. I don't think there's any right or wrong way to interpret a poem, we all have our own unique experiences that change our personal view of the world. Plkus, there's a lot more to be considered, like meter, and rhyme, alliteration (repeating consonant sounds, such as "she sells sea shells") etc. I would encourage you to finish with the rest of the poem, but you really don't have to. I know poetry is not for everybody, but you never know until you try. Poetry is a bit of a passion of mine, that's why I'm going on about it. =-) I love to just go into the library and pick a poet at random. =-) That's just me, though. I enjoy picking poems apart and seeing what they mean, but I can see how other people might find that tedious. In fact, most people will find this big long post of mine boring. Ha ha, sorry about that. Anyway, I'll shut up now.
Jarod
23 w/cf
?????? There endith the lesson ???????
Are you serious? This was intended to be a forum for poetry and you turn it into your classroom. Couldn't you have simply recommended a book on the topic instead of writing one?
There once was a CFer from Denver
Who wrote what he could remember
He tried to show
What he did know
Of poetry, only to bore this offender
Are you serious? This was intended to be a forum for poetry and you turn it into your classroom. Couldn't you have simply recommended a book on the topic instead of writing one?
There once was a CFer from Denver
Who wrote what he could remember
He tried to show
What he did know
Of poetry, only to bore this offender
I
IG
Guest
I doubt you'd be able to find a book on poetry interpretation, as opposed to a book filled with poetry, though I might be wrong as I have not looked it up. As people have said before Poetry means different things to different people. I think Jarod was just enthusiastic on what sounds like one of his passions. No need to criticize him. I think it's interesting to hear what somebody interprets a poem as, sometimes it comes out completely different than what I would have interpreted it as.
NoDayButToday
New member
I really like this poem by Dylan Thomas:
Do not go gentle into that good night
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Do not go gentle into that good night
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
FOREVER YOUNG&
Let's dance in style, lets dance for a while
heaven can wait, we're only watching the skies,
hoping for the best but expecting the worst
are you going to drop the bomb or not?
Let us die young or let us live forever
we don't have the power but we never say never,
sitting in a sandpit, life is a short trip
the music's for the sad men.
Can you imagine when this race is won
turn our golden faces into the sun
praising our leaders we're getting in tune
the music's played by the&the madmen
forever young,
I want to be forever young
do you really want to live forever, forever and ever
Forever young,
I want to be forever young
Do you really want to live forever, forever young
some are like water, some are like the heat
some are a melody and some are the beat
sooner or later they all will be gone
why don't they stay young
it's so hard to get old without a cause
I don't want to perish like a fading horse
youth is like diamonds in the sun
and diamonds are forever
so many adventures couldn't happen today
so many songs we forgot to play
so many dreams swinging out of the blue
we let them come true
Forever young, I want to be forever young
Do you really want to live forever, forever and ever?
Forever young,
I want to be forever young
Do you really want to live forever, forever and ever?
Forever young,
I want to be forever young
Do you really want to live forever?
WHO WANTS TO LIVE FOREVER?
There's no time for us.
There's no place for us.
What is this thing that builds our dreams, yet slips away from us?
Who wants to live forever?
Who wants to live forever . . . . .?
Who?
There's no chance for us.
It's all decided for us.
This world has only one sweet moment
Set aside for us
Who wants to live forever?
Who&?
Who dares to love forever,
when love must die?
But touch my tears with your lips,
Touch my world with your fingertips,
and we can have forever,
and we can love forever,
Forever is our today.
Who dares to live forever?
Who wants to live forever?
Forever is our today!
Who waits forever anyway?
Let's dance in style, lets dance for a while
heaven can wait, we're only watching the skies,
hoping for the best but expecting the worst
are you going to drop the bomb or not?
Let us die young or let us live forever
we don't have the power but we never say never,
sitting in a sandpit, life is a short trip
the music's for the sad men.
Can you imagine when this race is won
turn our golden faces into the sun
praising our leaders we're getting in tune
the music's played by the&the madmen
forever young,
I want to be forever young
do you really want to live forever, forever and ever
Forever young,
I want to be forever young
Do you really want to live forever, forever young
some are like water, some are like the heat
some are a melody and some are the beat
sooner or later they all will be gone
why don't they stay young
it's so hard to get old without a cause
I don't want to perish like a fading horse
youth is like diamonds in the sun
and diamonds are forever
so many adventures couldn't happen today
so many songs we forgot to play
so many dreams swinging out of the blue
we let them come true
Forever young, I want to be forever young
Do you really want to live forever, forever and ever?
Forever young,
I want to be forever young
Do you really want to live forever, forever and ever?
Forever young,
I want to be forever young
Do you really want to live forever?
WHO WANTS TO LIVE FOREVER?
There's no time for us.
There's no place for us.
What is this thing that builds our dreams, yet slips away from us?
Who wants to live forever?
Who wants to live forever . . . . .?
Who?
There's no chance for us.
It's all decided for us.
This world has only one sweet moment
Set aside for us
Who wants to live forever?
Who&?
Who dares to love forever,
when love must die?
But touch my tears with your lips,
Touch my world with your fingertips,
and we can have forever,
and we can love forever,
Forever is our today.
Who dares to live forever?
Who wants to live forever?
Forever is our today!
Who waits forever anyway?
<blockquote>Quote<br><hr><i>Originally posted by: <b>NoDayButToday</b></i><br>I really like this poem by Dylan Thomas:
Do not go gentle into that good night
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
I love this poem too - great minds think alike!
Do not go gentle into that good night
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
I love this poem too - great minds think alike!
<blockquote>Quote<br><hr><i>Originally posted by: <b>Quoof</b></i><br>Keats, of course, was a "lunger," died at 25 of TB, all that. I'm sure you know the story. A lot of his experience of sickness and impending death makes its way into his poems and especially his letters. So predictably, Keats became an important figure to me, so much so that years ago I hacked blood all the way to his death-bed over the Spanish Steps in Rome, sobbed in the Protestant Cemetery where he is buried, and then, in a muddy park with my two-ton backpack, got drunk in sappy romantic self-pity. Next, unfortunately, I had some Italians give me a tattoo of the lyre chiseled in Keats' tombstone. (Never get a tattoo until you sober up, and never try to do it in a foreign language!) Today the lyre is a bit distorted from weight-loss, and the IV nurses think it's a blender. Oh well. Not forever young, thank God!<hr></blockquote>
When i was in London a few years back I went out to Hampstead to see the house and bench where he wrote "ode to a nightingale". Made it a whole day trip, only to find out the the house was closed for renovations...dammit! So I went to a book store in town and purchased a collection of his writings from the area where they were originally written. That book isn't looking to good anymore due to the constant perusing...
S/27/CF
When i was in London a few years back I went out to Hampstead to see the house and bench where he wrote "ode to a nightingale". Made it a whole day trip, only to find out the the house was closed for renovations...dammit! So I went to a book store in town and purchased a collection of his writings from the area where they were originally written. That book isn't looking to good anymore due to the constant perusing...
S/27/CF
Somtimes You Can't Make It On Your Own (U2)
Tough, you think you've got the stuff
You're telling me and anyone
You're hard enough
You don't have to put up a fight
You don't have to always be right
Let me take some of the punches
For you tonight
Listen to me now
I need to let you know
You don't have to go it alone
We fight all the time
You and I...that's alright
We're the same soul
I don't need...I don't need to hear you say
That if we weren't so alike
You'd like me a whole lot more
Listen to me now
I need to let you know
You don't have to go it alone
And it's you when I look in the mirror
And it's you when I don't pick up the phone
Sometimes you can't make it on your own
I know that we don't talk
I'm sick of it all
Can - you - hear - me - sing - I -
Sing, you're the reason I sing
You're the reason why the opera is in me...
Where are we now?
I've got to let you know
A house still doesn't make a home
Don't leave me here alone...
And it's you when I look in the mirror
And it's you that makes it hard to let go
Sometimes you can't make it on your own
Sometimes you can't make it
The best you can do is fake it
Sometimes you can't make it on your own
Tough, you think you've got the stuff
You're telling me and anyone
You're hard enough
You don't have to put up a fight
You don't have to always be right
Let me take some of the punches
For you tonight
Listen to me now
I need to let you know
You don't have to go it alone
We fight all the time
You and I...that's alright
We're the same soul
I don't need...I don't need to hear you say
That if we weren't so alike
You'd like me a whole lot more
Listen to me now
I need to let you know
You don't have to go it alone
And it's you when I look in the mirror
And it's you when I don't pick up the phone
Sometimes you can't make it on your own
I know that we don't talk
I'm sick of it all
Can - you - hear - me - sing - I -
Sing, you're the reason I sing
You're the reason why the opera is in me...
Where are we now?
I've got to let you know
A house still doesn't make a home
Don't leave me here alone...
And it's you when I look in the mirror
And it's you that makes it hard to let go
Sometimes you can't make it on your own
Sometimes you can't make it
The best you can do is fake it
Sometimes you can't make it on your own