I have to write 3 poems for English :/ Help?
I can't think of anything to write about, I have the worst vocabulary, and I can't write xD Can someone help me out a bit? Thanks
- Anonymous10 years agoFavorite Answer
This hedgerow hides the skyline from my view,
But not my dreaming mind; this lonely hill,
A broken levee where I ponder still
And sunken, lone survivor of a crew
Of castaways adrift in endless blue,
Protects the floodplains where my questions spill
But barely, and there washes in a nil
And tongueless terror woven through and through.
My heart is sore and sick. Beyond the bar,
In the immensity my thought is drowned,
And silence claims me for eternity;
But past the outward strand of sense and sound,
The merge of beating heart and pulsing star,
How strangely sweet the foundering in that sea.
I've known the toil of three score years
And built the arks of damned and dears,
And here I build unto this day;
O' how much longer can I stay?
I've known the lot of them from birth,
Have seen their tears, have heard their mirth,
Have heard a maiden wail with child
And each was born to be exiled —
Both king and knave; to common end
Do all the sons of Adam tend
Where mire and mitre come to blend —
We're wanderin’, we're wanderin'.
Four horsemen ride both day and night
And every living soul indict.
From John o' Groats unto Lands End
They take what man cannot defend,
And own all here and yet to come --
They fill the whole and are the sum.
And by their work I'm sore annoyed
Though all hours of the day employed.
I pant and grunt in mortal pain,
I feel my vital forces wane
But still I hear them o'er the plain
Come thunderin', come thunderin'.
I, shoulder-deep in dirt and death,
Strain gutter-gasped wit' failin' breath;
Alas, the farrier works by moon'
To make as one my curse and boon.
So on I delve, toss up a bone
And ken one day 'twill be my own —
What Mother fathers, Father tends,
Who counts at last the gold he spends.
And so I toil 'sif in a spell
Though I have heard the evening bell,
Each shovel one foot nearer hell —
I'm ponderin', I'm ponderin'.
And so tonight, when earth is cold,
I know the chill, and I am old.
I know that soon my labor's done,
My tine is past, my glass is run.
The thought that makes me heave in fright
-- That makes the chill run deep tonight --
Is that this final resting place
I make could mark my dire disgrace.
Aye, sixteen hooves forever pound
And o'er my roof their chord resound;
How could I know a sleep profound?
I'm wonderin', I'm wonderin'.
When I descend into the depths of thought
To the vast shipwreck of my life’s esteems
And to the yardarm once again am brought
I am instead back in my bed it seems.
There I subject my acts to scrutiny,
Pronounce them treason to my own intent
And wonder what has made me mutiny
Against the better judgment I had meant.
Then I survey the sea where all must sail
And feel the tides that drag men to their doom;
I think perhaps each one is born to fail
The moment that he dives down from the womb.
I ponder this, my voyage that gives pause,
And know that I am sentenced by its laws.
- Anonymous10 years ago
Yelping jackels tense the desert sky,
While sparkling above jewels in reply
Blink eternal codes that within we know,
From times we lived not long ago.
Their silent words calm the nights
And blankets all the noisy fights.
Using math that made the universe,
It conjoins us to live with beauty,
Before we go kabluey.
On any other day, in any another way
This might have seemed strange to say