Poetry Analysis Project
Our 4 poems all tie into one the theme and that is death. The bold lettering is parts we thought were important.
Perhaps our lives were meant to be
Masterpieces of mediocrity
And all the time we question why
Our collective voice an anguished cry
Is time much better spent on chores
On mending fences, washing floors
There's food to cook and bills to pay
A million things to fill each day
Why do we search for meaning when
That nasty squeak needs oil again
Just now we should remind ourselves
To sweep that porch and dust those shelves
Toiling to get that bed to flowerIs all that's meant to fill this hour
Le Maudit By Richard Aldington
Women’s tears are but water;
The tears of men are blood.
He sits alone in the firelight
And on either side drifts by
Sleep, like a torrent whirling,
Profound, wrinkled and dumb.
Dawn occupies the city;
As if the seasons knew of his grief
Spring has suddenly changed into snow
Disaster and sorrow
Have made him their pet;
He cannot escape their accursed embraces.
For all his dodgings
Memory will lacerate him.
What good does it do to wander
Nights hours through city streets?
Only that in poor places
He can be with common men
And receive their unspoken
What has life done for him?
He stands alone in the darkness
Like a sentry never relieved,
Looking over a barren space,Awaiting the tardy finish
I met a ghost, but he didn’t want my head,
He only wanted to know the way to Denver.
I met a devil, but he didn’t want my soul,
He only wanted to borrow my bike awhile.
I met a vampire, but he didn’t want my blood,
He only wanted two nickles for a dime.
I keep meeting all the right people—
At all the wrong times.~Shel Silverstein
If I had a shiny gun,
I could have a world of fun
Speeding bullets through the brains
Of the folk who give me pains;
Or had I some poison gas,
I could make the moments pass
Bumping off a number of
People whom I do not love.
But I have no lethal weapon --
Thus does Fate our pleasure step on
So they still are quick and well
Who should be, by rights, in hell.
By: Dorothy Park