Monday

"Fast Rode the Knight" by Stephen Crane

Fast rode the knight
With spurs, hot and reeking,
Ever waving an eager sword,
"To save my lady!"
Fast rode the knIght,
And leaped from saddle to war.
Men of steel flickered and gleamed
Like riot of silver lights,
And the gold of the knight's good banner
Still waved on a castle wall.
. . . . .
A horse,
Blowing, staggering, bloody thing,
Forgotten at foot of castle wall.
A horse
Dead at foot of castle wall.

When this poem is first read, many misunderstand it and think it is about supporting war or battle. However it is actually the opposite. Crane uses the chivalry theme to show how one goal can be destructive and how mankind sometimes doesn't realize the price that is being paid. Crane starts the poem describing the way that the knight rides his horse. The man travels with eagerness and blindly chases his goal. I think the main lesson Crane is trying to convey throughout this peom is that the noblest causes can bring brutal sacrifices. By the time we reach the goal, we realize that it was not worth it.

&this is my last poetry response ever!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

"Let Me Die a Youngman's Death" by Roger McGough

Let me die a youngman's death
not a clean and inbetween
the sheets holywater death
not a famous-last-words
peaceful out of breath death

When I'm 73
and in constant good tumour
may I be mown down at dawn
by a bright red sports car
on my way home
from an allnight party

Or when I'm 91
with silver hair
and sitting in a barber's chair
may rival gangsters
with hamfisted tommyguns burst in
and give me a short back and insides

Or when I'm 104
and banned from the Cavern
may my mistress
catching me in bed with her daughter
and fearing for her son
cut me up into little pieces
and throw away every piece but one

Let me die a youngman's death
not a free from sin tiptoe in
candle wax and waning death
not a curtains drawn by angels borne
'what a nice way to go' death

I really liked this poem because of the way it can relate to anyone, and because of the humor. The author is basically saying that he does not want to die a boring normal death. He wants to live life to the fullest and be in an adventure before he dies. He does not want a "famous last-words, peaceful out of breath-death", he wants to die in an exciting way. This poem is full of great scenarios of how the author would like to die. When he is 73, he says he wants to die on his way home from an all night party. When he is 91, he wants to die getting his hair cut while a mob of gangsters walk in and shoot him like in the movies. My favorite one, is how he wants to die when he is 104. He says he wants to get caught by his mistress in bed with her daughter. I loved this poem because I completely agree with it. I don't want a "what a nice way to go death" either. Like Roger McGough, I'd like to die a youngman's death.

Thursday

" All the World's a Stage" by William Shakespeare

All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first, the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.
Then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good capon lined,
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slippered pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side;
His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank, and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.

I picked this poem because it's one of the only ones by Shakespeare that I really understand. I think Shakespeare is trying to point out that we are all living on a stage, which is the world. He says that we are actors in our own lives, with scripts running from our birth to death. 
Then the poem says that we need to be humble as we're not really that important, and many other people are going through exactly what we are.  I liked this poem because I could not only keep up with it, but it kept me itnerested and I understood the meaning at the end-this usually doesn't happen to me when I read Shakespeare's poems or monologues. The main idea I took from this poem was to not take life too seriously, because in reality, we're all just actors in the play of life.

Monday

" I Cannot Live With You" by Emily Dickinson

I cannot live with you,
It would be life,
And life is over there
Behind the shelf
The sexton keeps the key to,
Putting up
Our life, his porcelain,
Like a cup
Discarded of the housewife,
Quaint or broken;
A newer Sevres pleases,
Old ones crack.
I could not die with you,
For one must wait
To shut the other’s gaze down,
You could not.
And I, could I stand by
And see you freeze,
Without my right of frost,
Death’s privilege?
Nor could I rise with you,
Because your face
Would put out Jesus’,
That new grace
Glow plain and foreign
On my homesick eye,
Except that you, than he
Shone closer by.
They’d judge us-how?
For you served Heaven, you know,
Or sought to;
I could not,
Because you saturated sight,
And I had no more eyes
For sordid excellence
As Paradise.
And were you lost, I would be,
Though my name
Rang loudest
On the heavenly fame.
And were you saved,
And I condemned to be
Where you were not,
That self were hell to me.
So we must keep apart,
You there, I here,
With just the door ajar
That oceans are,
And prayer,
And that pale sustenance,
Despair!

I read on a website that this was one of Emily Dickinson's most famous poems, but after I read it, I don't really get why. It's a good poem and it has great symbolism in it, but I personally didn't like it at first.She's basically saying how much she hates staying apart from her "lover" or whoever she is writing about. She says that they can't die together, they can't come back from the dead together, they can't be judged by God together, and how they can't live together in this world. The whole time I was reading this I kept thinking, why can't they do any of that together? Maybe they live in different countries or maybe she's in love with an animal or something that she cannot live with. Then I kind of liked the poem at the end because it ended up to be really ironic and comical. She ends up deciding to reject her lover and choses to write poetry over being with him. I thought it was really funny because she goes on a huge passionate rant about her despair of not being able to be with him for no reason because in the end, she chooses poetry over him anyway. That's hardcore dedication.

"Because I Could Not Stop for Death" by Emily Dickinson

Because I could not stop for Death—
He kindly stopped for me—
The Carriage held but just Ourselves—
And Immortality.

We slowly drove—He knew no haste
And I had put away
My labor and my leisure too,
For His Civility—

We passed the School, where Children strove
At Recess—in the Ring—
We passed the fields of Gazing Grain—
We passed the Setting Sun—

Or rather—He passed Us—
The Dews drew quivering and chill—
For only Gossamer, my Gown—
My Tippet—only Tulle—

We paused before a House that seemed
A Swelling of the Ground—
The Roof was scarcely visible—
The Cornice—in the Ground—

Since then—'tis Centuries—and yet
Feels shorter than the Day
I first surmised the Horses' Heads
Were toward Eternity—

This is one of my favorite poems by Emily Dickinson. I'm sure it can be interpreted in many different ways, sometimes I think that famous poets didn't even know what they ment to write about, they just made it so obtuse and let us readers come up with something meaningful about their poetry. But in this case, I really do think that Emily Dickinson wanted to convey an insighful meaning. I think this poem represents immortality. The narrator is talking about her peaceful journey alongside death, just like they are equals. When it talks about children playing, the narrator could be having flashbacks of her childhood and at the end, she mentions eternity, which to me, is like the end of her life. My favorite line in this poem was "Because I could not stop for Death—He kindly stopped for me—" because it personifies death and makes it sound as if death is an equal to us all.

" A Rush Of Blood To The Head" by Coldplay

He said I'm gonna buy this place and burn it down
Yeah I'm gonna put it six feet underground
He said I'm gonna buy this place and see it fall
Stand here beside my baby in the crumbling walls
Said I'm gonna buy this place and start a fire
Stand here until I fill all your heart's desires
'Cause I'm gonna buy this place and see it burn
And do back the things it did to you in return


He said I'm gonna buy a gun and start a war
If you can tell me something worth fighting for
And I'm gonna buy this place, that's what I said
Blame it upon a rush of blood to the head, to the head

Honey, all the movements you're starting to make
See me crumble and fall on my face
And I know the mistakes that I made
See it all disappear without trace
And they call as they beckon you on
They said start as you mean to go on

He said I'm gonna buy this place and see it go
Stand here beside my baby, watch the orange glow
'Cause some'll laugh and some just sit and cry
But you just sit down there and you wonder why
So I'm gonna buy a gun and start a war
If you can tell me something worth fighting for
And I'm gonna buy this place, that's what I said
Blame it upon a rush of blood to the head, to the head

Honey, all the movements you're starting to make
See me crumble and fall on my face
And I know the mistakes that I made
See it all disappear without trace
And they call as they beckon you on
They say start as you mean to go on
Start as you mean to go on, start as you mean to go on

So meet me by the bridge, yeah meet me on the lane
When am I gonna see that pretty face again
Oh meet me on the road, yeah meet me where I said
Blame it all upon
A rush of blood to the head


The phrase " A rush of blood to the head" in UK is another way of saying, "spontaneously". I think this song is about the damage that can be done when you're in a rage of anger without thinking clearly. I also think that it is ment to show our civilization from afar.  It takes an outsider's approach to our society and paints a kind of dark picture of rubble and ashes and shows the human nature: "So I'm gonna buy a gun and start a war
If you can tell me something worth fighting for". It's that every act that has been done in the history has all started from a thought: "Blame it upon a rush of blood to the head". I'm sure that the lyrics in this song can be understood in many different ways, and I think that's the beauty of Coldplay's lyrics. I liked this song because the sound and the lyrics are powerful and calming, but sinister as the same time.

Sunday

"Sick" by Shel Silverstein


"I cannot go to school today,"
Said little Peggy Ann McKay,
"I have the measles and the mumps,
A gash, a rash, and purple bumps.
My mouth is wet, my throat is dry,
I'm going blind in my right eye.
My tonsils are as big as rocks,
I've counted sixteen chicken pox
And there's one more--that's seventeen,
And don't you think my face looks green?
My leg is cut, my eyes are blue--
It might be instamatic flu.
I cough and sneeze and gasp and choke,
I'm sure that my left leg is broke--
My hip hurts when I move my chin,
My belly button's caving in,
My back is wrenched, my ankle's sprained,
My 'pendix pains each time it rains.
My nose is cold, my toes are numb,
I have a sliver in my thumb.
My neck is stiff, my voice is weak,
I hardly whisper when I speak.
My tongue is filling up my mouth,
I think my hair is falling out.
My elbow's bent, my spine ain't straight,
My temperature is one-o-eight.
My brain is shrunk, I cannot hear,
There is a hole inside my ear.
I have a hangnail, and my heart is--what?
What's that? What's that you say?
You say today is---Saturday?
G'bye, I'm going out to play!"

I really liked this because even though I'm 17 (almost 18), I can still relate to this poem. This may be a shocker to many of you, but school isn't exactly my favorite place to be. As I was reading this poem, I noticed that I've used some of these excuses to try and get out of school. My parents never fall for anything and usually just tell me to suck it up and get to school. However if I'm feeling under the weather and I catch them in particularly good moods, I can sometimes stay home! This is a rare occurrence but it when it does happen, it's amazing. The best feeling in the world to me is waking up and then finding out that school is canceled so I can go right back to bed. Coming in close second would be waking up thinking it's a weekday when it's really a Saturday or Sunday! Preferably when it's a Saturday because then I don't have to think about school the next day. I remember one time during winter, Rishin woke me up to tell me that I could go back to sleep because it was a snow day. Turns out, it was not a snow day. I was furious that day. So in conclusion, Shel Silverstein's poetry is always appealing to me because I can relate to it no matter how old I am.