It doesn't help that I'm a rather "dead" person on the inside...
the poem:
Milton! thou shouldst be living at this hour;
England hath need of thee: she is a fen
Of stagnant waters: altar, sword, and pen,
Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower,
Have forfeited their ancient English dower
Of inward happiness. We are selfish men;
Oh! raise us up, return to us again;
And give us manners, virtue, freedom, power.
Thy soul was like a Star, and dwelt apart;
Thou hadst a voice whose sound was like the sea:
Pure as the naked heavens, majestic, free,
So didst thou travel on life's common way,
In cheerful godliness; and yet thy heart
The lowliest duties on herself did lay.
i have given into temptation and played for a few hours of d3 ; ~ ; i feel really sick now
May as well accept the fact that you rack disciprine! Did you make this, Bob?
no :|
iono now. I'm taking summer classes basically all summer long. living at my friend's 1 bedroom apartment. So i'm basically sleeping in the living room on a recliner chair. (literally). For breakfast its usually a glass of milk. Skip lunch, and dinner is a poorly made roastbeef sandwich(just meat and bread, no dressing or veggies or anything else) or an egg sandwich.
Alright, I read through that poem a couple times. Let me tell you what I'm getting out of it. And hopefully after reading this, maybe it'll help you see this for yourself.
Notice how the rhyming pattern appears sporadic. This in turn with the lists that are written within the poem suggest that this poet is using his narrator as a sort of ranter, showcasing that this poem isn't entirely a complete thought. There is order to the rhyme scheme, but at the same time it is chaotic (for instance, the -ower- syllable at the end of lines 1, 4, 5 and 8, which is irregular for a well composed poem). Because the poem itself is an appeal to the past, this poem has the feeling of an old codger howling at the powers above to heed his words.
Like all poems, this is simply one's analysis of it. I just hope this will lead you in the right direction.
They're gonna kill us.. I can see it now.. Somehow they're going to nudge the wrong thing and it's going to end up sending some giant asteroid right at us...
Gotta love it. A few douchebags act like idiots, and because of it, the entire male gender is pock marked. That's why nice guys never get a chance.
Ah, but nice guys aren't the ones that are attractive, at least this is a generalization witnessed in much of the same format by many men. Thus the terrible circle keeps twisting perpetually.
Gotta love it. A few douchebags act like idiots, and because of it, the entire male gender is pock marked. That's why nice guys never get a chance.
Ah, but nice guys aren't the ones that are attractive, at least this is a generalization witnessed in much of the same format by many men. Thus the terrible circle keeps twisting perpetually.
Gotta love it. A few douchebags act like idiots, and because of it, the entire male gender is pock marked. That's why nice guys never get a chance.
Ah, but nice guys aren't the ones that are attractive, at least this is a generalization witnessed in much of the same format by many men. Thus the terrible circle keeps twisting perpetually.
Gotta love it. A few douchebags act like idiots, and because of it, the entire male gender is pock marked. That's why nice guys never get a chance.
Ah, but nice guys aren't the ones that are attractive, at least this is a generalization witnessed in much of the same format by many men. Thus the terrible circle keeps twisting perpetually.
/sigh
CHURCH! lol
Wait, wut? lol
I think he meant that you're telling the truth. /grandma from Family Matters.
Alright, I read through that poem a couple times. Let me tell you what I'm getting out of it. And hopefully after reading this, maybe it'll help you see this for yourself.
Notice how the rhyming pattern appears sporadic. This in turn with the lists that are written within the poem suggest that this poet is using his narrator as a sort of ranter, showcasing that this poem isn't entirely a complete thought. There is order to the rhyme scheme, but at the same time it is chaotic (for instance, the -ower- syllable at the end of lines 1, 4, 5 and 8, which is irregular for a well composed poem). Because the poem itself is an appeal to the past, this poem has the feeling of an old codger howling at the powers above to heed his words.
Like all poems, this is simply one's analysis of it. I just hope this will lead you in the right direction.
thanks, maybe.
I'll have my sister help me tomorrow, I'll just turn it in when it's done, won't be that much of a penalty...
This is a thread that I found on another website I post at. It can be really really interesting. I thought it deserved a place here.
Post your random thoughts for the day here, or anything else that intrigues you.
For starters, is it possible to give constructive critism to someone who doesn't have a neck? I totally just walked by a girl who didn't. Someone isn't getting a necklace for Valentines day!
And who decided black and white can't be colors? I want to say a racist. I really do.