Poetry

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Rhythm Thief

Legendary Member
Location
Ross on Wye
threebikesmcginty said:
I passed mine with a B even though I did no revision at all :tongue:

Me too, although the same revision tactic at A level only netted me a D.:tongue:
 

philipbh

Spectral Cyclist
Location
Out the back
Macbeth - set text

Choice of book: Jane Eyre - chosen by the teacher (Woman) for a class of boys - what a great choice we thought!
 

colly

Re member eR
Location
Leeds
MichaelM said:
In Memoriam

On that stormy night
a top branch broke off
on the biggest tree in my garden.

It's still up there. Though it's leaves
are withered black among the green
The living branches won't
let it fall.

By Norman Macaig

Maybe I have no imagination, but reading that I picture a branch that snapped off in a storm and is still held up by the other branches, but has died.

Does anyone else picture anything different?

What is the symbolism of:

a top branch.
the biggest tree.
the living branches.

Top branch.............relative, probably Grandfather/mother or father/mother

biggest tree............family

living branches.........the remaining family

garden....................the poets life

I take it to be about the loss of someone dear and important to the poet/reader and how even after they have gone they live on in the hearts of their loved ones.

Of course it might just be about an old tree. :tongue:

It is what ever you take it to mean.
 

Rhythm Thief

Legendary Member
Location
Ross on Wye
Can't help you with that, but in googling for it I found some Wendy Cope. I do like some poems and this is one of them:

The Orange
by Wendy Cope


At lunchtime I bought a huge orange--
The size of it made us all laugh.
I peeled it and shared it with Robert and Dave--
They got quarters and I had a half.

And that orange, it made me so happy,
As ordinary things often do
Just lately. The shopping. A walk in the park.
This is peace and contentment. It's new.

The rest of the day was quite easy.
I did all the jobs on my list
And enjoyed them and had some time over.
I love you. I'm glad I exist.
 

rich p

ridiculous old lush
Location
Brighton
Why is the OP poetry? I like a lot of poetry but that, to me, is a piece of prose with some arbitrary line breaks.
 

longers

Legendary Member
Is the OP a poem because the person who wrote it said it is?

I'm genuinely interested in why it might not be so. I haven't read a lot of poetry but have enjoyed some and some of that seems like prose with arbitrary line breaks.
 

snorri

Legendary Member
MichaelM said:
I'm wondering whether on not I'm completely alone in being unable to appreciate the symbolism of poetry.
You are not alone, I had similar feelings when force fed poetry in school but have come to enjoy the work of some poets in adult life.
Now you have made me take my book of Collected Poems by Norman MacCaig off the shelf and I will be reading some more of his poems whilst enjoying a large Glenmorangie this evening.;)
 
OP
OP
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MichaelM

Guru
Location
Tayside
Model answers:

The top branch is a symbol for the person who's died.

The tree is a symbol for all the people the poet knows and loves.

The living branches are all the memories of the people, especially the poet that knew the dead person. These memories will keep the man 'alive'.

'In memoriam' was to me about a snapped branch, but at least I knew it was about a snapped branch. This next one though (especially for you Snorri), I had no idea what it was about let alone what anything symbolised (again I had to look at the answers to have a clue what it's about).



The Great Silkie of Sule Skerry


AN eartly nourris sits and sing,
And aye she sings, Ba, lily wean!
Little ken I my bairnis father,
Far less the land that he staps in.

Then ane arose at her bed-fit,
An a grumly guest I’m sure was he:
Here am I, thy bairnis father,
Although that I be not comelie.

I am a man, upo the lan,
An I am a silkie in the sea;
And when I’m far and far frae lan,
My dwelling is in Sule Skerrie.

‘It was na weel,’ quo the maiden fair,
‘It was na weel, indeed,’ quo she,
‘That the Great Silkie of Sule Skerrie
Sud hae come and aught a bairn to me.’

Now he has taen a purse of goud,
And he has pat it upo her knee,
Sayin, Gie to me my little young son,
An tak thee up thy nourris-fee.

An it sall come to pass on a simmer’s day,
When the sin shines het on evera stane,
That I will tak my little young son,
An teach him for to swim the faem.

An thu sall marry a proud gunner,
An a proud gunner I’m sure he’ll be,
An the very first schot that ere he schoots,
He’ll schoot baith my young son and me.
 
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