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Poetry

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    Poetry

    Does it mean anything?

    #2
    What would be the point of writing something that didn't mean anything?
    While you're waiting, read the free novel we sent you. It's a Spanish story about a guy named 'Manual.'

    Comment


      #3
      Originally posted by minestrone View Post
      Does it mean anything?
      Does anything really matter?
      Science isn't about why, it's about why not. You ask: why is so much of our science dangerous? I say: why not marry safe science if you love it so much. In fact, why not invent a special safety door that won't hit you in the butt on the way out, because you are fired. - Cave Johnson

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        #4
        I read Tam O'Shanter yesterday for the first time since school and the whole meaning was lost at that age.

        Comment


          #5
          Yes


          Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori:
          mors et fugacem persequitur virum
          nec parcit inbellis iuventae
          poplitibus timidove tergo.
          "How sweet and fitting it is to die for one's country:
          Death pursues the man who flees,
          spares not the hamstrings or cowardly backs
          Of battle-shy youths."

          Horace

          or

          Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
          Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
          Till on the haunting flares(2) we turned our backs
          And towards our distant rest(3) began to trudge.
          Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots
          But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;
          Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots(4)
          Of tired, outstripped(5) Five-Nines(6) that dropped behind.
          Gas!(7) Gas! Quick, boys! – An ecstasy of fumbling,
          Fitting the clumsy helmets(8) just in time;
          But someone still was yelling out and stumbling,
          And flound'ring like a man in fire or lime(9) . . .
          Dim, through the misty panes(10) and thick green light,
          As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.
          In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,
          He plunges at me, guttering,(11) choking, drowning.
          If in some smothering dreams you too could pace
          Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
          And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
          His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;
          If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
          Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
          Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud(12)
          Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,
          My friend, you would not tell with such high zest(13)
          To children ardent(14) for some desperate glory,
          The old Lie; Dulce et Decorum est
          Pro patria mori.(15)

          Wilfred Owen
          8 October 1917 - March, 1918
          Always forgive your enemies; nothing annoys them so much.

          Comment


            #6
            'I wandered lonely as a cloud'

            I mean FFS, what does that mean? Did a cloud tell Wordsworth he was lonely and he thought yes, I am as lonely as that and when I get back to the house I shall write a poem about the loneliness of clouds. Pile of nonsense.

            Comment


              #7
              I've little patience for poetry and put it down mostly to a girly/arty thing. Didn't get past the first line of the one posted above for example.

              This ain't bad though:
              But soft, what light through yonder window breaks?
              It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.
              [starts to go downhill a bit after those two lines, and may not strictly be called poetry]

              Comment


                #8
                Originally posted by minestrone View Post
                'I wandered lonely as a cloud'

                I mean FFS, what does that mean? Did a cloud tell Wordsworth he was lonely and he thought yes, I am as lonely as that and when I get back to the house I shall write a poem about the loneliness of clouds. Pile of nonsense.
                he was stoned on Laudanum.
                Always forgive your enemies; nothing annoys them so much.

                Comment


                  #9
                  Originally posted by minestrone View Post
                  Does it mean anything?
                  Do you like it as much as you like jazz?
                  And what exactly is wrong with an "ad hominem" argument? Dodgy Agent, 16-5-2014

                  Comment


                    #10
                    Originally posted by Mich the Tester View Post
                    Do you like it as much as you like jazz?
                    Don't get me started.

                    Jazz and poetry.

                    Shoowbdeee raa skeee, bee be be show doo wap. ahhhhhh, ra ta skillidy bop.

                    Comment

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