poem design 3 assignment 1

7/27/2019 Poem Design 3 Assignment 1

1/9

SUNSET ON KIDNEY RIDGE (abridged extract)By Herman Wouk (writing as Alistair Tudsbury)

The sun hangs huge and red above the far dust-streaked horizon,The desert cold is already falling on Kidney Rldge.This grey sandy elevation is deserted, except by the dead.Even the flies have left.

Earlier, they were here in clouds, blackening the corpses.They pester the living too, but of course they prefer the dead.Here at El Alamein the Afrika Korps died.The Korps was a legend, a dashing enemy, a sort of glory; a gallant foe worthy of our steel.

The bodies, numerous as they are, strike the eye less than the burned out tanks.These squat hulks with their long guns, casting elongated shadows on the far-stretching sands,Smashed machinery tumbled about in these wilds, where one envisions the elephants of Hannibal.How far they came to perish here, these soldiers and these machines!

To butt each other to death with flame-spitting machinery in faraway Africa,ln a setting as dry and lonesome as the moon?A voice I don't want to listen to tells me that this is England's last land triumph,The conduct of the war is passing out of our hands.

The sun has set; it will get dark and cold quickly now."Why, 'twas a very wicked thing!" said little Wilhelmine,"Nay, nay, my little girl!", quoth he -"lt was a famous victory."


2/9

I dream...I dream of floating away on a cloudI dream of catching a falling starI dream of my prince charmingI dream of how I'11 save him from the dragonI dream of cows on the moonAnd pink grassI dream of old ladies knitting socksI dream the twelve Olympians are realI dream I'11meet them somedayI dream ofvast sugar cane fieldsI dream ofa bed ofrosesAnd how prickly that must beI dream of firefly friendsI dream of a lighting bug showI dream of riding a striped horse down the aisleI dream of hot air balloonsI dream ofpolar bearsAnd penguinsI dream ofsnowI dream ofrainI dream of summerI dream of fallI dream ofdayAnd nightI dream of the moonI dream ofstarsI dream of going to MarsI dream of how I'll be queen of the MartiansI dream of how I'11 love my subjectsAnd people always said I belonged on another planetI dream of loveI dream of faithI dream ofhopeI dream of cultureI dream of lifeAnd I dream sweet dreams.Tsunami HiroshiSu


3/9

Psalm 1:1-6l Blessed is the one

who does not walk in step with the wickedor stand in the way that sinners take

or sit in the company of mockers,'brt whose delight is in the law of the Lono,

and who meditates on his law day and night.'That person is like a tree planted by streams of water,

which yields its fruit in seasonand whose leaf does not wither-

whatever they do prospers.oNot so the wicked!

They are like chaffthat the wind blows away.

5 Therefore the wicked will not stand in the judgment,nor sinners in the assembly of the righteous.

u For the Lono watches over the way of the righteous,but the way of the wicked leads to destruction.

By The Psalmist and insPired bY God


4/9

DANNY BOYBy Frederic Weatherly

Oh, Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling,From glen to glen, and down the mountain side,The summer's gone, and all the flowers dying,'Tis you, 'tis you must go and I must bide,

But come ye back when summe/s in the meadow,Or when the valley's hushed and white with snow,'Tis I'll be there in sunshine or in shadow,0h Danny boy, oh Danny boy, I love you so.

And if you come, when all the flowers are dying,And I am dead, as dead I well may be,You'llcome and find the place where I am lying,And kneel and say an "Ave" there for me.

And I shall hear, tho'soft you tread above me,And all my dreams willwarm and sweeter be,lf you'll not fail to tell me that you love me,I'll simply sleep in peace until you come to me,


5/9

poem about the conflict between life and dreamsBed Of CloudsAshley L. Maysleep in the clouds, dream in the sky,dreaming as life passes me by,think my dreams keep me sane,dream of happiness, a life without pain,people say I'm stuck in this place,I'll never go anywhere,in my dreamsl've already been there,know some day I'll have to wake up,I feel the real world is more like a nightrnare,

safe in my closed eye wonderland,poem goes to all the dreamers that understand,matter what they say...your dreams but don't dream your life away,

t


6/9

by Joyce l(ilmer :'39 / 42 >top 500 Poems

think that I shall never seepoem lovely as a tree.tree whose hungry mouth is prestthe earth's sweet flowing breast;tree that looks at God all day,lifts her leafy arms to pray;tree that may in sumrner wearnest of robins in her hair;

whose bosom snow has lain;intimately lives with rain.

are made by fools like me,only God can make a tree.


7/9

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8/9

Devll tVtay Caneby Joseph A WraithA poem of childhood drearns...As a child I remember wellthis strange nroment I wrlltell.Put to sleep on an early night,I awoke somewhat startfedb!, this curious light,I could hear his breathingas he grabbed my handand told me he is iaking meto another Iand.And as I ride upon this Devils wing,an evil spark, and a hini of siing.The smell of sulfur is in the airas I fly about without a care.I feel the heat from his vaporous breathas he laughs a laugh of certain death.I don't fearthis thing, this soulless beast, no spirit inside, no heart that beats.As he glides siowly over ash and fire,his ciemons they scream in a horrific choir.Raising their voices above the din,and feeding on souls lost in sin.I ride about this hellish tourstill believing my soul is pure.He grins at me and points aheadto lay me down back in my bed.And with a whisper he is goneand I fali back asleep until the dawn.What rnakes it real and explains some things is that he left me with my ownlittle wings.


9/9

Last Thoughtshy .loseph A lffraithsluiCi:la\' ,jUng -':' JUJLDead and buried never to risesiuck in ihe gi+unc not float!ng tnru the skies.These bones won't move. these feet won't dance, iittle did I kriow I had noghost of chance.Jumped offthe building at 1Oamfelt the jarnng iram the c*ncrezebefo;-e the blacl..ness set [n.I could still hear the sirens and feel that needle pinch, whoever thought suicidewas wouid be such a cinch.Now i lay here wonciering u,rhai the heli,as they cover me up I can hear a church bell.Six feet under with no place io go,all to myself l'm jusi a one man show.i guess I'm supposecito lay here for eierniiy. never realiy knowing whai willbecome of me.This is what happens when you take ihe easy way out, you are stili leftwondering what's it ali about.

poem design 3 assignment 1

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