Poetry

War Girls BY JESSIE POPE There’s the girl who clips your ticket for the train,   And the girl who speeds the lift from floor to floor, There’s the girl who does a milk-round in the rain,   And the girl who calls for orders at your door.       Strong, sensible, and fit,       They’re out to show their … Read more

Men Who March Away BY THOMAS HARDY What of the faith and fire within us Men who march away Ere the barn-cocks say Night is growing gray, Leaving all that here can win us; What of the faith and fire within us Men who march away? Is it a purblind prank, O think you, Friend … Read more

“Ypres” is a poem by Laurence Binyon(1869-1943), he was a prolific English poet and scholar of the late 19th and early 20th centuries, whose career spanned 50 years. During this time, he authored numerous poetry collections and plays, two historical biographies, and several art history volumes, including books on the works of Asian artists, English … Read more

  “The Dead” is a Shakespearean sonnet (consisting of three quatrains and a couplet), which expresses mourning and praise for the lives lost in war through beautiful imagery and contrasts. The poem is divided into two main parts. The first part(two quatrain)depicts the vivid life experiences of the deceased before their passing – joy, sorrow, … Read more

“In Flanders fields”is a poem by John Mccrae (1872-1981) Born in Guelph, Ontario, a Canadian poet, soldier, and physician, this poem is written in a perspective of dead peoples, and also have the poppies, which symbols death, at the field and restate it in the end of the poem, connecting the whole poem together.  The … Read more

1. The First Morning The backpack bulges, much too large, A new, stiff shoe untied. A wave that builds, a looming charge, With parents at your side. The doorway is a giant’s mouth, The hallway, a long mile. You navigate your way due south, And try hard not to smile. Until you see, upon the … Read more

When morning tiptoes, soft and gray, And night begins to flee, The silent dewdrops learn to play Upon the waking tree. The sun, a painter, dips his brush In gold and rose and flame, To color forth the thrush’s thrush And whisper every name— The name of every leaf unfurled, Of every blade of grass, … Read more

A Tale of Tank, Steve, and Dylan The stage was set, the screen was clear, A contest where we conquered fear. The video played, a silly sight: A goose was typing in the daylight. His homework waited, page half-done, Beneath the cheerful, morning sun. Then Steve began, with honk and tone, A gander’s mutter, gasp, … Read more

A preview of Monday’s seminar and questions you might want to think about. For those who didn’t bring the poems home, this is the poem: I knew a simple soldier boy Who grinned at life in empty joy, Slept soundly through the lonesome dark, And whistled early with the lark. In winter trenches, cowed and … Read more