trippy star
11-05-2007, 06:28 PM
I wrote this today for agrade 11 english english assignment, and since I decided to go against the mold that my teacher outlined, the poem needs to be well done, else she fails me. So. What do you all think? Any and all suggestions are welcome.
Strife (Hernardo):
And then, flying
High above all
I had known; careless
As a rock fashioned by the sea,
Called its home. Not an individual:
Not at all alone;
When it! The bane
Of a life, now lived loved – lost;
Denied the callous cowards the price
They would have paid; spat,
With ardent vigour in the
Face of a society,
So “morally just”;
Exposed the fraud: esthetic, material, lust.
And then, striding
Tentative, headlong,
Into a world far removed; not
Foreign, yet entirely new:
With peoples scattered about like the dappled morning dew.
And suddenly I was confronted,
By neither apparition nor strength of arms;
But, by a passion fierce, a compassion boundless,
In this world apart.
Dry eyes, wet with wandering tears, stemming
From spurned comrades, exploited without behest;
Wiry boys, frail, little girls,
Crowned by orange crest.
And Lo! Behold!
This school, newly arisen.
This path, unproven, yet
Undeniably old
From the lethargy of life have I been driven,
Where now there is fire, there once was cold.
And I have been freed, by the poverty surrounding,
Gasping, gaping; infused
With new life.
This Grief, whose pangs will never escape me,
Could perhaps prove the end of this merciless
Strife.
Strife (Hernardo):
And then, flying
High above all
I had known; careless
As a rock fashioned by the sea,
Called its home. Not an individual:
Not at all alone;
When it! The bane
Of a life, now lived loved – lost;
Denied the callous cowards the price
They would have paid; spat,
With ardent vigour in the
Face of a society,
So “morally just”;
Exposed the fraud: esthetic, material, lust.
And then, striding
Tentative, headlong,
Into a world far removed; not
Foreign, yet entirely new:
With peoples scattered about like the dappled morning dew.
And suddenly I was confronted,
By neither apparition nor strength of arms;
But, by a passion fierce, a compassion boundless,
In this world apart.
Dry eyes, wet with wandering tears, stemming
From spurned comrades, exploited without behest;
Wiry boys, frail, little girls,
Crowned by orange crest.
And Lo! Behold!
This school, newly arisen.
This path, unproven, yet
Undeniably old
From the lethargy of life have I been driven,
Where now there is fire, there once was cold.
And I have been freed, by the poverty surrounding,
Gasping, gaping; infused
With new life.
This Grief, whose pangs will never escape me,
Could perhaps prove the end of this merciless
Strife.