Poetry | need famous poem

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need famous poem

16-11-2003 00:23

babaloo181

1,634 posts

hey u guys. well for my english class we do this thing every nine weeks called a poetry moment where one person stands in front of the class, reads a poem, and then talks about it and analyzes it. mine is coming up on dec. 1st so i need a poem! if u have any sites where i can find a poem...by a published author or if u happen to know of any poems...post them. ooh and if u could post what u think the poem means too......that would be wonderful hehe! i would be eternally greatful! thnx in advance u guys!

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16-11-2003 01:42 babaloo181
1,634 posts	aww.......no one?!
16-11-2003 01:45 KingJeZter
9,999 posts	Try Hawk Roosting by Ted Hughes, I have to study it for English, and its a really interesting poem I sit in the top of the wood, my eyes closed. Inaction, no falsifying dream Between my hooked head and hooked feet: Or in sleep rehearse perfect kills and eat. The convenience of the high trees! The air's buoyancy and the sun's ray Are of advantage to me; And the earth's face upward for my inspection. My feet are locked upon the rough bark. It took the whole of Creation To produce my foot, my each feather: Now I hold Creation in my foot Or fly up, and revolve it all slowly - I kill where I please because it is all mine. There is no sophistry in my body: My manners are tearing off heads - The allotment of death. For the one path of my flight is direct Through the bones of the living. No arguments assert my right: The sun is behind me. Nothing has changed since I began. My eye has permitted no change. I am going to keep things like this.
16-11-2003 01:49 KingJeZter
9,999 posts	oh so you want the meaning? go to here
16-11-2003 04:16 radiate86
3,311 posts	"The Tiger" by William Blake is a great poem. It's posted by IceDragon in the "favorite poems of all time" thread. We studied it in English, so I know what it's about... It's about someone evil and so bad that one just doesn't understand where this person could come from or who invented them. Like, if the rest of the world is mostly good, where did this creature come from? It's sort of about a tiger, because they're ferocious, but it's more about someone/something too evil to comprehend. If you like the poem, you can elaborate on that.
16-11-2003 04:17 DeathByMonkeys
24,877 posts	How about 13 ways of looking at a crow? I have a copy somewhere, lemme go find it...
16-11-2003 04:22 DeathByMonkeys
24,877 posts	aaaagh....can't find it!
16-11-2003 04:26 anoobis
15,407 posts	Let America be America Again by Langston Hughes Let America be America again. Let it be the dream it used to be. Let it be the pioneer on the plain Seeking a home where he himself is free. (America never was America to me.) Let America be the dream the dreamers dreamed-- Let it be that great strong land of love Where never kings connive nor tyrants scheme That any man be crushed by one above. (It never was America to me.) O, let my land be a land where Liberty Is crowned with no false patriotic wreath, But opportunity is real, and life is free, Equality is in the air we breathe. (There's never been equality for me, Nor freedom in this "homeland of the free.") Say, who are you that mumbles in the dark? And who are you that draws your veil across the stars? I am the poor white, fooled and pushed apart, I am the Negro bearing slavery's scars. I am the red man driven from the land, I am the immigrant clutching the hope I seek-- And finding only the same old stupid plan Of dog eat dog, of mighty crush the weak. I am the young man, full of strength and hope, Tangled in that ancient endless chain Of profit, power, gain, of grab the land! Of grab the gold! Of grab the ways of satisfying need! Of work the men! Of take the pay! Of owning everything for one's own greed! I am the farmer, bondsman to the soil. I am the worker sold to the machine. I am the Negro, servant to you all. I am the people, humble, hungry, mean-- Hungry yet today despite the dream. Beaten yet today--O, Pioneers! I am the man who never got ahead, The poorest worker bartered through the years. Yet I'm the one who dreamt our basic dream In the Old World while still a serf of kings, Who dreamt a dream so strong, so brave, so true, That even yet its mighty daring sings In every brick and stone, in every furrow turned That's made America the land it has become. O, I'm the man who sailed those early seas In search of what I meant to be my home-- For I'm the one who left dark Ireland's shore, And Poland's plain, and England's grassy lea, And torn from Black Africa's strand I came To build a "homeland of the free." The free? Who said the free? Not me? Surely not me? The millions on relief today? The millions shot down when we strike? The millions who have nothing for our pay? For all the dreams we've dreamed And all the songs we've sung And all the hopes we've held And all the flags we've hung, The millions who have nothing for our pay-- Except the dream that's almost dead today. O, let America be America again-- The land that never has been yet-- And yet must be--the land where every man is free. The land that's mine--the poor man's, Indian's, Negro's, ME-- Who made America, Whose sweat and blood, whose faith and pain, Whose hand at the foundry, whose plow in the rain, Must bring back our mighty dream again. Sure, call me any ugly name you choose-- The steel of freedom does not stain. From those who live like leeches on the people's lives, We must take back our land again, America! O, yes, I say it plain, America never was America to me, And yet I swear this oath-- America will be! Out of the rack and ruin of our gangster death, The rape and rot of graft, and stealth, and lies, We, the people, must redeem The land, the mines, the plants, the rivers. The mountains and the endless plain-- All, all the stretch of these great green states-- And make America again! analyze it for yourself, shouldn't be too hard
16-11-2003 04:28 DarkEpiphany
135 posts	Well, if you need something lost, I would recommend "Thanatopsis" by William Cullen Bryant. I'm telling you, it would definately impress your classmates as well as your teacher. What grade are you in? Thanatopsis by William Cullen Bryant To him who in the love of nature holds Communion with her visible forms, she speaks A various language; for his gayer hours She has a voice of gladness, and a smile And eloquence of beauty; and she glides Into his darker musings, with a mild And healing sympathy that steals away Their sharpness ere he is aware. When thoughts Of the last bitter hour come like a blight Over thy spirit, and sad images Of the stern agony, and shroud, and pall, And breathless darkness, and the narrow house, Make thee to shudder, and grow sick at heart;-- Go forth, under the open sky, and list To Nature's teachings, while from all around-- Earth and her waters, and the depths of air-- Comes a still voice. Yet a few days, and thee The all-beholding sun shall see no more In all his course; nor yet in the cold ground, Where thy pale form was laid, with many tears, Nor in the embrace of ocean, shall exist Thy image. Earth, that nourished thee, shall claim Thy growth, to be resolved to earth again, And, lost each human trace, surrendering up Thine individual being, shalt thou go To mix forever with the elements, To be a brother to the insensible rock And to the sluggish clod, which the rude swain Turns with his share, and treads upon. The oak Shall send his roots abroad, and pierce thy mold. Yet not to thine eternal resting-place Shalt thou retire alone, nor couldst thou wish Couch more magnificent. Thou shalt lie down With patriarchs of the infant world -- with kings, The powerful of the earth -- the wise, the good, Fair forms, and hoary seers of ages past, All in one mighty sepulchre. The hills Rock-ribbed and ancient as the sun, -- the vales Stretching in pensive quietness between; The venerable woods -- rivers that move In majesty, and the complaining brooks That make the meadows green; and, poured round all, Old Ocean's gray and melancholy waste,-- Are but the solemn decorations all Of the great tomb of man. The golden sun, The planets, all the infinite host of heaven, Are shining on the sad abodes of death Through the still lapse of ages. All that tread The globe are but a handful to the tribes That slumber in its bosom. -- Take the wings Of morning, pierce the Barcan wilderness, Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound, Save his own dashings -- yet the dead are there: And millions in those solitudes, since first The flight of years began, have laid them down In their last sleep -- the dead reign there alone. So shalt thou rest -- and what if thou withdraw In silence from the living, and no friend Take note of thy departure? All that breathe Will share thy destiny. The gay will laugh When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care Plod on, and each one as before will chase His favorite phantom; yet all these shall leave Their mirth and their employments, and shall come And make their bed with thee. As the long train Of ages glides away, the sons of men-- The youth in life's fresh spring, and he who goes In the full strength of years, matron and maid, The speechless babe, and the gray-headed man-- Shall one by one be gathered to thy side, By those, who in their turn, shall follow them. So live, that when thy summons comes to join The innumerable caravan, which moves To that mysterious realm, where each shall take His chamber in the silent halls of death, Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night, Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.
16-11-2003 04:30 singingsweetie
8,389 posts	I think Roxy posted this once, and I really liked it so... Immortality by Joseph Jefferson Two caterpillars crawling on a leaf By some strange accident in contact came; Their conversation, passing all belief, Was that same argument, the very same, That has been "proed and conned" from man to man, Yea, ever since this wondrous world began. The ugly creatures, Deaf and dumb and blind, Devoid of features That adorn mankind, Were vain enough, in dull and wordy strife, To speculate upon a future life. The first was optimistic, full of hope; The second, quite dyspeptic, seemed to mope. Said number one, "I'm sure of our salvation." Said number two, "I'm sure of our damnation; Our ugly forms alone would seal our fates And bar our entrance through the golden gates. Suppose that death should take up unawares, How could we climb the golden stairs? If maidens shun us as they pass us by, Would angels bid us welcome in the sky? I wonder what great crimes we have committed, That leave us so forlorn and so unpitied. Perhaps we've been ungrateful, unforgiving; 'Tis plain to me that life's not worth the living." "Come, come, cheer up," the jovial worm replied, "Let's take a look upon the other side; Suppose we cannot fly like moths or millers, Are we to blame for being caterpillars? Will that same God that doomed us crawl the earth, A prey to every bird that's given birth, Forgive our captor as he eats and sings, And damn poor us because we have not wings? If we can't skim the air like owl or bat, A worm will turn 'for a' that.'" They argued through the summer; autumn nigh, The ugly things composed themselves to die; And so, to make their funeral quite complete, Each wrapped him in his little winding sheet. The tangled web encompassed them full soon; Each for his coffin made him a cocoon. All through the winter's chilling blast they lay Dead to the world, aye, dead as human clay. Lo, spring comes forth with all her warmth and love; She brings sweet justice from the realms above; She breaks the chrysalis, she resurrects the dead; Two butterflies ascend encircling her head. And so this emblem shall forever be A sign of immortality.
16-11-2003 04:30 DarkEpiphany
135 posts	Sorry, meant "If you need something long" not lost. I've been typing the wrong words without realizing all day.
16-11-2003 04:33 aflackoh6
28,546 posts	Langston Huges - Hold Fast To Dreams Hold fast to dreams For if dreams die Life is a broken-winged bird That cannot fly Hold fast to dreams For when dreams go Life is a barren field Frozen with snow Critique The first line of the poem, Hold Fast To Dreams, is telling us that we need to hold on to our dreams and do what we want to in life. The second line is saying that our dreams will die if we do not follow them. The third line of the poem is supporting the second by saying that if our dreams die, the we can not do what we would like to in life and we will be unhappy. Hughes is using a broken-winged bird to describe us as we would be if we do not follow our dreams. The fourth line is telling us that we would be unhappy and miserable if we do not follow our dreams, like a bird that can not fly. We would be crippled with unhappiness if we do not do what we want. The poem breaks at the end of the fourth line. The rhyme scheme of the poem is A B C B. The type of rhyme in the poem is an end rhyme. There has been no poetic license used in this part of the poem. Hughes is using figurative language throughout the whole part of the poem. All of the symbols used in this half of the poem are great at making us realize that we must follow our dreams. The second half of this poem begins the same as the first. "Hold fast to Dreams" is the refrain of the poem. The sixth line of the poem is saying the same as the second. The seventh line of the poem is telling us that our lives will be empty and useless if we do not follow our dreams. The metaphor that Hughes is using is great. It really gives us a vivid description of how our lives resemble a barren field. The last line of the poem is telling us that if we let our dreams die, it will be very hard to go back to them. There could be many obstacles in the way, such as jobs, parents or friends. In our minds, Hughes gives a great description of our lives using this symbol. The rhythm and rhyme in the second half of the poem is the same as the first. The only thing that is different is that the seventh line has six syllables instead of seven. The symbolism is different in the second part. Hughes uses "a broken-winged bird that cannot fly" in the first half and in the second half he uses "A barren field frozen with snow". They both give different ideas, too. The theme of the entire poem is that you must follow your dreams and let nothing get in the way. If we realize this, that I think most people will live a much happier life. Ta Daa...
16-11-2003 09:22 Dream27
6,205 posts	If you Have a Literature Book, You can always look for some there.
16-11-2003 20:29 babaloo181
1,634 posts	wow u guys thanks! those are really great.....im in 10th grade by the way....i really like those poems but some are too long...i shoulda mentioned that we have a limit on the lines ..... from 15-35 lines.......srry i forgot to say that...but keep the suggestions coming....oh and may i say that wow....u guys r so smart! i read some of ur interpretations and they're things i would've never gotten from the first read! brilliant!

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Forum / Poetry / need famous poem

need famous poem