Roses are red,
violets are blue
I kinda pissed myself, while I was in you.
violets are blue
I kinda pissed myself, while I was in you.
Post your favourite poem
- Thread starter Yukon_Niner
- Start date
I wrote complete bullshit on my paper, and I got a 7. On god, I didn't know what I writing.
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You're lucky man, the new spec was so much harder than the old one. The past papers were a joke compared to what I had to do.>7
You're too young, back in my day we got letters
New SATS
New Spec GCSEs
New Spec A levels
2001/02 kids suffered wallahi
To all the full metal jacket fans
Back in 69, I didn't have a care
Before they called my number, I chopped of all my hair
Said goodbye to mamma, dad and uncle Dan
Boarded an airplane and headed off for Nam
He called us to attention as we stepped off the plane
Checked us off a list as he called out our names
Then he picked up his rifle and raised it in the air
Grabbed his crotch with his other hand as we all stood and stared
He said...
This is my rifle
This is my gun
One is for killing
The others for fun
So until this war is over
Or until your time is done
This is your rifle and this one is your gun
Thirty years have passed since I stepped off that plane
The nightmares haven't ended and neither has the pain
I've drank my share of liquor and smoked my share of grass
But I can't unload the memories or these few words from my past
Before they called my number, I chopped of all my hair
Said goodbye to mamma, dad and uncle Dan
Boarded an airplane and headed off for Nam
He called us to attention as we stepped off the plane
Checked us off a list as he called out our names
Then he picked up his rifle and raised it in the air
Grabbed his crotch with his other hand as we all stood and stared
He said...
This is my rifle
This is my gun
One is for killing
The others for fun
So until this war is over
Or until your time is done
This is your rifle and this one is your gun
Thirty years have passed since I stepped off that plane
The nightmares haven't ended and neither has the pain
I've drank my share of liquor and smoked my share of grass
But I can't unload the memories or these few words from my past
Well, a dear friend of mine finally called it quits
They found him one cold morning laying in a ditch
A bullet through his brain, his rifle at his side
And one old rusted dog tag from 1969
When they turned his body over they found his written note
It wasn't but a few lines, but the last he ever wrote
And when they laid him in his grave on that cold December day
I took those words he'd written and I began to play
Back in 69, I didn't have a care
Before they called my number, I chopped off all my hair
They found him one cold morning laying in a ditch
A bullet through his brain, his rifle at his side
And one old rusted dog tag from 1969
When they turned his body over they found his written note
It wasn't but a few lines, but the last he ever wrote
And when they laid him in his grave on that cold December day
I took those words he'd written and I began to play
Back in 69, I didn't have a care
Before they called my number, I chopped off all my hair
We have people here posting in Arabic, this site is truly confusing.
The Charge of the Light Brigade;
I
Half a league, half a league,
Half a league onward,
All in the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
“Forward, the Light Brigade!
Charge for the guns!” he said.
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
II
“Forward, the Light Brigade!”
Was there a man dismayed?
Not though the soldier knew
Someone had blundered.
Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but to do and die.
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
III
Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon in front of them
Volleyed and thundered;
Stormed at with shot and shell,
Boldly they rode and well,
Into the jaws of Death,
Into the mouth of hell
Rode the six hundred.
IV
Flashed all their sabres bare,
Flashed as they turned in air
Sabring the gunners there,
Charging an army, while
All the world wondered.
Plunged in the battery-smoke
Right through the line they broke;
Cossack and Russian
Reeled from the sabre stroke
Shattered and sundered.
Then they rode back, but not
Not the six hundred.
V
Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon behind them
Volleyed and thundered;
Stormed at with shot and shell,
While horse and hero fell.
They that had fought so well
Came through the jaws of Death,
Back from the mouth of hell,
All that was left of them,
Left of six hundred.
VI
When can their glory fade?
O the wild charge they made!
All the world wondered.
Honour the charge they made!
Honour the Light Brigade,
Noble six hundred!
I
Half a league, half a league,
Half a league onward,
All in the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
“Forward, the Light Brigade!
Charge for the guns!” he said.
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
II
“Forward, the Light Brigade!”
Was there a man dismayed?
Not though the soldier knew
Someone had blundered.
Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but to do and die.
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
III
Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon in front of them
Volleyed and thundered;
Stormed at with shot and shell,
Boldly they rode and well,
Into the jaws of Death,
Into the mouth of hell
Rode the six hundred.
IV
Flashed all their sabres bare,
Flashed as they turned in air
Sabring the gunners there,
Charging an army, while
All the world wondered.
Plunged in the battery-smoke
Right through the line they broke;
Cossack and Russian
Reeled from the sabre stroke
Shattered and sundered.
Then they rode back, but not
Not the six hundred.
V
Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon behind them
Volleyed and thundered;
Stormed at with shot and shell,
While horse and hero fell.
They that had fought so well
Came through the jaws of Death,
Back from the mouth of hell,
All that was left of them,
Left of six hundred.
VI
When can their glory fade?
O the wild charge they made!
All the world wondered.
Honour the charge they made!
Honour the Light Brigade,
Noble six hundred!
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove.
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wand'ring bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me prov'd,
I never writ, nor no man ever lov'd.
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove.
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wand'ring bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me prov'd,
I never writ, nor no man ever lov'd.
They were taught how to speak American and hate immigrants
Robert Frost was like the main guy we analyzed this is one of his works
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference
America does have good literary heritage, it's just not as long as the English. But frost is good.
We had to read of mice and men.
What did u think of mice and men, i thought it was good for a classic book.
The Death of Richard Corfield by Muhammad Abd Allah al-Hasan (1856 — 1920)
You have died, Corfield, and are no longer in this world,
a merciless journey was your portion.
When, Hell-destined, you set out for the Other World,
tell them how God tried you.
Say to them: “From that day to this the Dervishes
never ceased their assaults upon us.
the British were broken, the noise of battle engulfed us;
with fervour and faith the Dervishes attacked us.”
Say: “They attacked us at mid-morning.”
Say: “Yesterday in the holy war a bullet from one of their old rifles struck me.
and the bullet struck me in the arm.”
Say: “In fury they fell upon us.”
Report how savagely their swords tore you,
show these past generations in how many places the daggers were plunged.
Say: “Friend,” I called, “have compassion and spare me!””
Say: “As I looked fearfully from side to side my heart
was plucked from its sheath.”
Say: “My eyes stiffened as I watched with horror;
the mercy I implored was not granted.”
Say: “Striking with spear-butts at my mouth they silenced my soft words;
my ears, straining for deliverance, found nothing;
the risk I took, the mistake I made, cost my life.”
Say: “Like the war leaders of old,
I cherished great plans for victory.”
Say: “The schemes the djinns planted in me brought my ruin.”
Say: “When pain racked me everywhere,
men lay sleepless at my shrieks.”
Say: “Great shouts acclaimed the departing of my soul.”
Say: “Beasts of prey have eaten my flesh and torn it asunder.”
Say: “The sound of swallowing the flesh and the fat comes from the hyena.”
Say: “The crows plucked out my veins and tendons.”
Say: “If stubborn denials are to be abandoned, then my clansmen were defeated:
In the last stand of resistance there is always great slaughter.”
Say: “The Dervishes are like the advancing thunderbolts of a storm,
rumbling and roaring.”
africanpoems.net
You have died, Corfield, and are no longer in this world,
a merciless journey was your portion.
When, Hell-destined, you set out for the Other World,
tell them how God tried you.
Say to them: “From that day to this the Dervishes
never ceased their assaults upon us.
the British were broken, the noise of battle engulfed us;
with fervour and faith the Dervishes attacked us.”
Say: “They attacked us at mid-morning.”
Say: “Yesterday in the holy war a bullet from one of their old rifles struck me.
and the bullet struck me in the arm.”
Say: “In fury they fell upon us.”
Report how savagely their swords tore you,
show these past generations in how many places the daggers were plunged.
Say: “Friend,” I called, “have compassion and spare me!””
Say: “As I looked fearfully from side to side my heart
was plucked from its sheath.”
Say: “My eyes stiffened as I watched with horror;
the mercy I implored was not granted.”
Say: “Striking with spear-butts at my mouth they silenced my soft words;
my ears, straining for deliverance, found nothing;
the risk I took, the mistake I made, cost my life.”
Say: “Like the war leaders of old,
I cherished great plans for victory.”
Say: “The schemes the djinns planted in me brought my ruin.”
Say: “When pain racked me everywhere,
men lay sleepless at my shrieks.”
Say: “Great shouts acclaimed the departing of my soul.”
Say: “Beasts of prey have eaten my flesh and torn it asunder.”
Say: “The sound of swallowing the flesh and the fat comes from the hyena.”
Say: “The crows plucked out my veins and tendons.”
Say: “If stubborn denials are to be abandoned, then my clansmen were defeated:
In the last stand of resistance there is always great slaughter.”
Say: “The Dervishes are like the advancing thunderbolts of a storm,
rumbling and roaring.”
The Death of Richard Corfield
africanpoems.net
Shmurda
King Of NSFW
I ain't gon' say too much when a nigga speakin' on that hot shit (yeah)
f*ck the police, 'cause them es ain't gon' stop shit (they ain't stoppin' shit)
Oppositions mad, if they play they gettin' popped quick (yeah)
Flyest nigga in the game, yeah, I'm a cockpit
Posted on Camelot, wit' a hunnid some' shots
I be swimmin' wit' the sharks, lil nigga you a lobster (lobster)
Bullets heat a nigga up, like he eatin' on some pasta (some pasta)
And shout out to Kingston, I keep me some Rastas (yeah, yeah, gratt)
My niggas trappin' out the bando (huh), shoutout to the Migos (the Migos)
f*ck the police, 'cause them es ain't gon' stop shit (they ain't stoppin' shit)
Oppositions mad, if they play they gettin' popped quick (yeah)
Flyest nigga in the game, yeah, I'm a cockpit
Posted on Camelot, wit' a hunnid some' shots
I be swimmin' wit' the sharks, lil nigga you a lobster (lobster)
Bullets heat a nigga up, like he eatin' on some pasta (some pasta)
And shout out to Kingston, I keep me some Rastas (yeah, yeah, gratt)
My niggas trappin' out the bando (huh), shoutout to the Migos (the Migos)
Is that edgar allen poe?
You are correct.
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