Poetry

Bypass Poetry CompClick to see the entries or add your entry here  **Poetry** http://kpliterature.wikispaces.com/PeterdeasPoetry

Student Sonnets scanned -


 * Please upload the word document vesion of your analysis of "For Nicolas, One Year Old" to your cell in the table by 8am Friday May 22nd**

i think this is the first time ive ever put something on the wiki aha ||= Jim [|Jennifer Strauss.doc] || ||= Bren ||= Gabi ||= Rach ||
 * = Jacqui [[file:My Close analysis Nicholas.doc]] ||= Josh ||= Ebony ||= Jack [[file:For Nicholas One Year Old ANALYSIS.docx]] ||
 * = Stacey [[file:For Nicholas, One Year Old. Close Analysis.docx]] ||= Justyce ||= Fitzy
 * = Es ||= Josh H's Poem CA ||= Matt [[file:Matt's CA.rtf]] ||= D-wayne ||
 * = Jeff
 * = Sody

didn't quite get to finish it coz i did it in about half an hour this morning, but you get the jist of it

||= Toni ||= Emma ||= Peterdea  || thanks for putting my name as Peterdea! Nobody else does that and it annoys me so, thanks! :p

My Favorite Poem (Cancer Cowboy) NOTE: Please keep in mind it is originally in French!! ^^^^^Actually I think the poet was adicted to both sex and alcohol. ^^^^^ Always be drunk. That’s it! The great imperative! In order not to feel Time’s horrid fardel bruise your shoulders, grinding you into the earth, Get drunk and stay that way. On what? On wine, poetry, virtue, whatever. But get drunk. And if you sometimes happen to wake up on the porches of a palace, in the green grass of a ditch, in the dismal loneliness of your own room, your drunkenness gone or disappearing, ask the wind, the wave, the star, the bird, the clock, ask everything that flees, everything that groans or rolls or sings, everything that speaks, ask what time it is; and the wind, the wave, the star, the bird, the clock will answer you: “Time to get drunk! Don’t be martyred slaves of Time, Get drunk! Stay drunk! On wine, virtue, poetry, whatever!” --Charles Baudelaire (1821-1867)
 * // And I'm sure the poet only endorses the responsible consumption of alcohol in the process //**

1241943337 Sorry I'm late in adding this You tell me my good friend Are these not curious days Thou shalt worship who Not god There is no god The devil is with you give him his due So shalt thou show me the devil on earth? O’ speak But not for god’s sake Sing no praise for he is not The man hath no credibility Not with thou For he offended and took my angel In sadness I despise I disbelieve The thief of life O’er all my teaching the assassination of my mind By Christians And now I triumph on my own Without thee by Paul Buttigieg

I destroy homes – I tear families apart. I take your children and that’s just a start. I’m more valued than diamonds, more precious than gold. The sorrow I bring is a sight to behold. If you need me, remember, I’m easily found. I live all around you, in school and in town. I live with the rich, I live with the poor. I live just down the street and maybe next door. I’m made in a lab, but not one like you think. I can be made under the kitchen sink, In your child’s closet, and even out in the woods. If this scares you to death, then it certainly should. I have many names. But there’s one you’ll know best. I’m sure you’ve heard of me, my name is Crystal Meth. My power is awesome, try me, you’ll see. But if you do, you may never break free. Just try me once and I might let you go. But if you try me twice, then I’ll own your soul. When I possess you, you’ll steal and you’ll lie. You’ll do what you have to do, just to get high. The crimes you commit for my narcotic charms, Will be worth the pleasures you feel in my arms. You’ll lie to your mother; you’ll steal from your dad. When you see their tears, you must feel sad. Just forget your morals and how you were raised. I’ll be your conscience, I’ll teach you my ways. I take kids from their parents; I take parents from their kids. I turn people from God, I separate friends. I’ll take everything from you, your looks and your pride. I’ll be with you always, right by your side. You’ll give up everything, your family, your home. Your money, your true friend, then you’ll be alone. I’ll take and take till you have no more to give. When I finish with you, you’ll be lucky to live. If you try me, be warned, this is not a game. If I’m given the chance, I’ll drive you insane. I’ll ravage your body; I’ll control your mind. I’ll own you completely; your soul will be mine. The nightmares I’ll give you when you’re lying in bed, And the voices you’ll hear from inside your head. The sweats, the shakes, and the visions from me. I want you to know these things are gifts from me. But then it’s too late, and you’ll know in your heart That you are now mine and we shall not part. You’ll regret that you tried me (they always do). But you came to me, not I to you. You knew this would happen. Many times you’ve been told. But you challenged my power, You chose to be bold. You could have said no and then walked away.
 * Ebony-**

could live that day over now, what would you say? My power is awesome, as I told you before. I can take your life and make it so dim and sore. I’ll be your master and you’ll be my slave. I’ll even go with you when you go to your grave. Now that you’ve met me, what will you do? Will you try me or not? It’s all up to you. I can show you more misery than words can tell. Come take my hand, let me lead you to H---.
 * Written by**
 * Alicia VanDavis

JACQUI'S POEM** another one of my fave's- good one, Jac! 1241670140

For the director of music. Of David. A psalm.
1 O LORD, you have searched me and you know me. 2 You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar. 3 You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways. 4 Before a word is on my tongue you know it completely, O LORD. 5 You hem me in—behind and before; you have laid your hand upon me. 6 Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain. 7 Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? 8 If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, [[|a]] you are there. 9 If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, 10 even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast. 11 If I say, "Surely the darkness will hide me and the light become night around me," 12 even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you. 13 For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb. 14 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. 15 My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place. When I was woven together in the depths of the earth, 16 your eyes saw my unformed body. All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be. 17 How precious to [[|b]] me are your thoughts, O God! How vast is the sum of them! 18 Were I to count them, they would outnumber the grains of sand. When I awake, I am still with you. 19 If only you would slay the wicked, O God! Away from me, you bloodthirsty men! 20 They speak of you with evil intent; your adversaries misuse your name. 21 Do I not hate those who hate you, O LORD, and abhor those who rise up against you? 22 I have nothing but hatred for them; I count them my enemies. 23 Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. 24 See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.

//One fine day in the middle of the night, // //Two dead boys got up to fight. // //Back-to-back they faced one another, // //Drew their swords and shot each other. // //One was blind and the other couldn't see, // //So they chose a dummy for a referee. // //A blind man went to see fair play, // //<span style="font-size: 12pt; color: rgb(255,0,102); font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';">A dumb man went to shout "hooray!" //<span style="font-size: 12pt; color: rgb(255,0,102); font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"> //<span style="font-size: 12pt; color: rgb(255,0,102); font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';">A deaf policeman heard the noise, //<span style="font-size: 12pt; color: rgb(255,0,102); font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"> //<span style="font-size: 12pt; color: rgb(255,0,102); font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';">And came and shot the two dead boys. //<span style="font-size: 12pt; color: rgb(255,0,102); font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"> //<span style="font-size: 12pt; color: rgb(255,0,102); font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';">A paralysed donkey walking by, //<span style="font-size: 12pt; color: rgb(255,0,102); font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"> //<span style="font-size: 12pt; color: rgb(255,0,102); font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';">Kicked the copper in the eye, //<span style="font-size: 12pt; color: rgb(255,0,102); font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"> //<span style="font-size: 12pt; color: rgb(255,0,102); font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';">Sent him through a rubber wall, //<span style="font-size: 12pt; color: rgb(255,0,102); font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"> //<span style="font-size: 12pt; color: rgb(255,0,102); font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';">Into a dry ditch and drowned them all. //<span style="font-size: 12pt; color: rgb(255,0,102); font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"> //<span style="font-size: 12pt; color: rgb(255,0,102); font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';">(If you don't believe this lie is true, //<span style="font-size: 12pt; color: rgb(255,0,102); font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';"> //<span style="font-size: 12pt; color: rgb(255,0,102); font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';">Ask the blind man -- he saw it too!) //
 * //<span style="font-size: 12pt; color: rgb(255,0,102); font-family: 'Times New Roman','serif';">Emma: //**

Rach-
====[//**NOTE:** This is the New Living Translation version, the New International Version is also pretty good, this version just makes it more clear in it's meaning....] 1241670140//====

//**<span style="font-size: 120%; color: rgb(211,13,13); font-family: 'Lucida Sans Unicode','Lucida Grande',sans-serif;">A psalm of David. **//
<span style="font-size: 120%; color: rgb(211,13,13); font-family: 'Lucida Sans Unicode','Lucida Grande',sans-serif;">1 The L <span style="font-size: 120%; color: rgb(211,13,13); font-family: 'Lucida Sans Unicode','Lucida Grande',sans-serif; font-variant: small-caps;">ord <span style="font-size: 120%; color: rgb(211,13,13); font-family: 'Lucida Sans Unicode','Lucida Grande',sans-serif;"> is my shepherd; I have all that I need. 2 He lets me rest in green meadows; he leads me beside peaceful streams. 3 He renews my strength. He guides me along right paths, bringing honor to his name. 4 Even when I walk through the darkest valley,[[|a]] I will not be afraid, for you are close beside me. Your rod and your staff protect and comfort me. 5 You prepare a feast for me in the presence of my enemies. You honor me by anointing my head with oil. My cup overflows with blessings. 6 Surely your goodness and unfailing love will pursue me all the days of my life, and I will live in the house of the L <span style="font-size: 120%; color: rgb(211,13,13); font-family: 'Lucida Sans Unicode','Lucida Grande',sans-serif; font-variant: small-caps;">ord <span style="font-size: 120%; color: rgb(211,13,13); font-family: 'Lucida Sans Unicode','Lucida Grande',sans-serif;"> forever.

<span style="color: rgb(64,64,64); font-family: 'Lucida Console',Monaco,monospace;">**Death** Matt's Poem 1241753382 by John Donne Death be not proud, though some have called thee Mighty and dreadfull, for, thou art not so, For, those, whom thou think'st, thou dost overthrow, Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill me. From rest and sleepe, which but thy pictures bee, Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow, And soonest our best men with thee doe goe, Rest of their bones, and soules deliverie. Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men, And dost with poyson, warre, and sicknesse dwell, And poppie, or charmes can make us sleepe as well, And better then thy stroake; why swell'st thou then; One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally, And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.

<span style="color: rgb(64,64,64); font-family: 'Lucida Console',Monaco,monospace;">__**D-wayne's Favourite Poem:**__
__My Country by Dorothea Mackellar__

The love of field and coppice, Of green and shaded lanes. Of ordered woods and gardens Is running in your veins, Strong love of grey-blue distance Brown streams and soft dim skies I know but cannot share it, My love is otherwise.

I love a sunburnt country, A land of sweeping plains, Of ragged mountain ranges, Of droughts and flooding rains. I love her far horizons, I love her jewel-sea, Her beauty and her terror - The wide brown land for me!

A stark white ring-barked forest All tragic to the moon, The sapphire-misted mountains, The hot gold hush of noon. Green tangle of the brushes, Where lithe lianas coil, And orchids deck the tree-tops And ferns the warm dark soil.

Core of my heart, my country! Her pitiless blue sky, When sick at heart, around us, We see the cattle die - But then the grey clouds gather, And we can bless again The drumming of an army, The steady, soaking rain.

Core of my heart, my country! Land of the Rainbow Gold, For flood and fire and famine, She pays us back threefold - Over the thirsty paddocks, Watch, after many days, The filmy veil of greenness That thickens as we gaze.

An opal-hearted country, A wilful, lavish land - All you who have not loved her, You will not understand - Though earth holds many splendours, Wherever I may die, I know to what brown country My homing thoughts will fly.

<span style="display: block; font-family: sans-serif,Helvetica,Geneva,Arial,SunSans-Regular; text-align: left;">It will do you no harm to find yourself ridiculous. Resign yourself to be the fool you are. You will find that you survive humiliation And that's an experience of incalculable value. That is the worst moment, when you feel you have lost, The desires for all that was most dersirable, Before you are contented with what you can desire; Before you know what is left to be desired; And you go on wishing that you could desire, What desire has left behind. But you cannot understand.How could you understand what it is to feel old? We die to each other daily. What we know of other people, Is only our memory of the moments During which we knew them. And they have changed since then. To pretend that they and we are the same, Is a useful and convenient social convention Which must sometimes broken. We must also remember That at every meeting we are meeting a stranger. What is hell? Hell is oneself. Hell is alone, the other figures in it Merely projections. There is nothing to escape from, And nothing to escape to. One is always alone. Half the harm that is done in this world, Is due to people who want to feel important. They don't mean to do harm — but the harm does not interest them. Or they do not see it, or they justify it, Because they are absorbed in the endless struggle, To think well of themselves. There are several symptoms, Which must occur together, and to a marked degree, To qualify a patient for my sanitorium: And one of them is an honest mind. That is one of the causes of their suffering. To men of a certain type, The suspicion that they are incapable of loving, Is as disturbing to their self-esteem As, in cruder men, the fear of impotence. I should really like to think there's something wrong with me — Because, if there isn't then there's something wrong, Or at least, very different from what it seemed to be, With the world itself — and that's much more frightening! Everyone's alone — or so it seems to me. They make noises, and think they are talking to each other; They make faces, and think they understand each other. And I'm sure they don't. Is that a delusion? Can we only love, Something created in our own imaginations?Are we all in fact unloving and unloveable? Then one is alone, and if one is alone, Then lover and beloved are equally unrealAnd the dreamer is no more real than his dreams. I shall be left with the inconsolable memory, Of the treasure I went into the forest to find And never found, and which was not there, And is perhaps not anywhere? But if not anywhere Why do I feel guilty at not having found it? Disillusion can become itself an illusion, If we rest in it. Two people who know they do not understand each other, Breeding children whom they do not understand And who will never understand them. There is another way, if you have the courage. The first I could describe in familiar terms Because you have seen it, as we all have seen it, Illustrated, more or less, in lives of those about us. The second is unknown, and so requires faith — The kind of faith that issues from despair. The destination cannot be described; You will know very little until you get there; You will journey blind. But the way leads towards possession Of what you have sought for in the wrong place. We must always take risks. That is our destiny. If we all were judged according to the consequences, Of all our words and deeds, beyond the intention And beyond our limited understanding, Of ourselves and others, we should all be condemned. Only by acceptance of the past will you alter its meaning. Every moment is a fresh beginning.
 * Justyce;** The Cocktail Party, by T.S.Eliot (1949)

Should all the rivers run red withh blood, and all the forests turn to ash and coal. Should black rain fall,and the spawning salmon gasp its last breath, and the green wren no longer sing its joy to the sun, where then, good friends, should our glory lie? This came out of a book called Sasha by Joel Shepherd Gabi


 * Wilfred Owen (1893 – 1918)

//Anthem for Doomed Youth// What passing-bells for these who die as cattle? Only the monstrous anger of the guns. Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle Can patter out their hasty orisons. No mockeries now for them; no prayers nor bells; Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs, The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells; And bugles calling for them from sad shires. What candles may be held to speed them all? Not in the hands of boys, but in their eyes Shall shine the holy glimmers of good-byes. The pallor of girls' brows shall be their pall; Their flowers the tenderness of patient minds, And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds. ||

Brenton's fav Poem


 * Staceys poem **

A Different Kind Of Hero
Heather Griffith A hero to me is not just a person who died for there country or went inside a burning building or stuff like that. A hero to me is a single mother who survives everyday by herself. A teenager against all odds getting through life. An alcoholic walking into a rehab center. A father being not just a father but a friend, a caregiver, supporter, a brick wall for his kids. A friend who mo matter what or how wrong you are stands up for you and takes your side. A hero who no matter how hard they are being hit or pushed or beat down, no matter how bad they are emotionally or physically or psychologically they stand up and keep going. They push through the pain of life, love, kids, work, school, drugs, sports, parents, heartbreak, alcohol, that to me is a hero. A person who isn’t just there, but is there living, breathing, and surviving.