#1
I'm in school and I need two more poems to analyze. Any recommendations? Anything is fine as long as they aren't song lyrics, though preferably easy to analyze ones.
Nine planets surround the sun
Only one does the sun embrace
Upon this watered one
So much we take for granted


So let us sleep outside tonight
Lay down in our mother's arms
For here we can rest safely
#4
How about 'The Garden of Love' by William Blake and 'Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening' by Robert Frost?

The Garden of Love
I went to the Garden of Love,
And saw what I never had seen;
A Chapel was built in the midst,
Where I used to play on the green.

And the gates of this Chapel were shut
And "Thou shalt not," writ over the door;
So I turned to the Garden of Love
That so many sweet flowers bore.

And I saw it was filled with graves,
And tombstones where flowers should be;
And priests in black gowns were walking their rounds,
And binding with briars my joys and desires.

Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.


Do the poems have to have some sort of thematic link?
Last edited by SmarterChild at Apr 3, 2008,
#5
interaction spawns tentative attraction
meticulous sentence formation, and quivering speech
inhibit any attempts at conversation
malformed thoughts escape out of articulation's reach
accelerated heart beat and shifty eyes
speechlessness brings about their collective demise
monosyllabic responses, and tongues tied, fleeting looks made out of the corner of their eyes
swift rejection deals a considerable blow to the individual's pride
#6
composed upon westminster bridge by wordsworth, and London by william Blake.
Easy to do, everyone does em, all good fun.
Epiphone Dot-335
Fender USA Tele
'82 30th anniversary Les Paul goldtop
1965 pre-CBS Fender Jaguar

Crybaby
TS-9
turbo rat
Ge-7
+many more

Fender Twin Reverb
King's Full-tube 100 watt half stack. - £300
#7
Vultures

by Chinua Achebe

In the greyness
and drizzle of one despondent
dawn unstirred by harbingers
of sunbreak a vulture
perching high on broken
bone of a dead tree
nestled close to his
mate his smooth
bashed-in head, a pebble
on a stem rooted in
a dump of gross
feathers, inclined affectionately
to hers. Yesterday they picked
the eyes of a swollen
corpse in a water-logged
trench and ate the things in its bowel. Full
gorged they chose their roost
keeping the hollowed remnant
in easy range of cold
telescopic eyes ...
Strange
indeed how love in other
ways so particular
will pick a corner
in that charnel-house
tidy it and coil up there, perhaps
even fall asleep - her face
turned to the wall!
... Thus the Commandant at Belsen
Camp going home for
the day with fumes of
human roast clinging
rebelliously to his hairy
nostrils will stop
at the wayside sweet-shop
and pick up a chocolate
for his tender offspring
waiting at home for Daddy's return ...
Praise bounteous
providence if you will
that grants even an ogre
a tiny glow-worm
tenderness encapsulated
in icy caverns of a cruel
heart or else despair
for in every germ
of that kindred love is
lodged the perpetuity
of evil.
#8
I always liked this one by Siegfried Sassoon. Might be because im a history nerd who is interested in world war one.

SUICIDE IN THE TRENCHES

I knew a simple soldier boy
Who grinned at life in empty joy,
Slept soundly through the lonesome dark,
And whistled early with the lark.

In winter trenches, cowed and glum,
With crumps and lice and lack of rum,
He put a bullet through his brain.
No one spoke of him again.

You smug-faced crowds with kindling eye
Who cheer when soldier lads march by,
Sneak home and pray you'll never know
The hell where youth and laughter go.

By: Siegfried Sassoon
#10
Sweetest Love I do not go - John Donne
Tho I get home how late how late - Emily Dickinson


They are my favourites, and someone mentioned Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening' by Robert Frost, that's an ace poem
I hope it doesn't seem, like I'm young, foolish, and green.
Let me in for a minute, you're not my life but I want you in it


O Dayya, te echaré de menos, siempre

Y siempre
Y para siempre
#11
John Donne - The Flea

MARK but this flea, and mark in this,
How little that which thou deniest me is ;
It suck'd me first, and now sucks thee,
And in this flea our two bloods mingled be.
Thou know'st that this cannot be said
A sin, nor shame, nor loss of maidenhead ;
Yet this enjoys before it woo,
And pamper'd swells with one blood made of two ;
And this, alas ! is more than we would do.

O stay, three lives in one flea spare,
Where we almost, yea, more than married are.
This flea is you and I, and this
Our marriage bed, and marriage temple is.
Though parents grudge, and you, we're met,
And cloister'd in these living walls of jet.
Though use make you apt to kill me,
Let not to that self-murder added be,
And sacrilege, three sins in killing three.

Cruel and sudden, hast thou since
Purpled thy nail in blood of innocence?
Wherein could this flea guilty be,
Except in that drop which it suck'd from thee?
Yet thou triumph'st, and say'st that thou
Find'st not thyself nor me the weaker now.
'Tis true ; then learn how false fears be ;
Just so much honour, when thou yield'st to me,
Will waste, as this flea's death took life from thee.


Analysing it in GCSE English was fun.
#12
Quote by SmarterChild
How about 'The Garden of Love' by William Blake and 'Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening' by Robert Frost?


Do the poems have to have some sort of thematic link?


Thanks for those. I'm gonna use "Garden of Love".
Nine planets surround the sun
Only one does the sun embrace
Upon this watered one
So much we take for granted


So let us sleep outside tonight
Lay down in our mother's arms
For here we can rest safely
#13
Quote by blue_strat
John Donne - The Flea

MARK but this flea, and mark in this,
How little that which thou deniest me is ;
It suck'd me first, and now sucks thee,
And in this flea our two bloods mingled be.
Thou know'st that this cannot be said
A sin, nor shame, nor loss of maidenhead ;
Yet this enjoys before it woo,
And pamper'd swells with one blood made of two ;
And this, alas ! is more than we would do.

O stay, three lives in one flea spare,
Where we almost, yea, more than married are.
This flea is you and I, and this
Our marriage bed, and marriage temple is.
Though parents grudge, and you, we're met,
And cloister'd in these living walls of jet.
Though use make you apt to kill me,
Let not to that self-murder added be,
And sacrilege, three sins in killing three.

Cruel and sudden, hast thou since
Purpled thy nail in blood of innocence?
Wherein could this flea guilty be,
Except in that drop which it suck'd from thee?
Yet thou triumph'st, and say'st that thou
Find'st not thyself nor me the weaker now.
'Tis true ; then learn how false fears be ;
Just so much honour, when thou yield'st to me,
Will waste, as this flea's death took life from thee.


Analysing it in GCSE English was fun.

Ah, Donne is amazing. I love his poetry. This is one of my favourites.
I hope it doesn't seem, like I'm young, foolish, and green.
Let me in for a minute, you're not my life but I want you in it


O Dayya, te echaré de menos, siempre

Y siempre
Y para siempre
#14
Quote by nightraven
one of his best.

i can't wait to study him for a-level next year. he's a lot more interesting than what we did this year for gcse.

Trust me, he's ace.
Look up a poem he did called "Elegy 20; On His Mistress Going To Bed"
It's great
I hope it doesn't seem, like I'm young, foolish, and green.
Let me in for a minute, you're not my life but I want you in it


O Dayya, te echaré de menos, siempre

Y siempre
Y para siempre
#15
Hysteria - T. S. Eliot

As she laughed I was aware of becoming involved in her
laughter and being part of it, until her teeth were
only accidental stars with a talent for squad-drill. I
was drawn in by short gasps, inhaled at each momentary
recovery, lost finally in the dark caverns of her
throat, bruised by the ripple of unseen muscles. An
elderly waiter with trembling hands was hurriedly
spreading a pink and white checked cloth over the rusty
green iron table, saying: "If the lady and gentleman
wish to take their tea in the garden, if the lady and
gentleman wish to take their tea in the garden ..." I
decided that if the shaking of her breasts could be
stopped, some of the fragments of the afternoon might
be collected, and I concentrated my attention with
careful subtlety to this end.


I Felt a Funeral in My Brain - Emily Dickinson

I felt a funeral in my brain
And mourners, to and fro,
Kept treading, treading, till it seemed
That sense was breaking through.

And when they all were seated,
A service like a drum
Kept beating, beating, till I thought
My mind was going numb.

And then I heard them lift a box,
And creak across my soul
With those same boots of lead, again.
Then space began to toll

As all the heavens were a bell,
And Being but an ear,
And I and silence some strange race,
Wrecked, solitary, here.
electro music alliance


Moon of The Mighty Boosh Appreciation Society PM *Juno* to join!


Quote by The 6th String
I learned to dance by watching amputees have seizures...