if you have could you tell me the meaning of the poem
201836
The point of the poem is not really what it means... because what it means is basically what you read. There is no underlying deep, philosophical meaning to it. It is a simply, living poem. When you read it, its supposed to "conjure" up the images, the sounds, the tastes, etc. It's the imagery thats strong and important. The meaning of the poem is really basic, so I won't tell you specifically tell you what it is. But my answer is a hint.
512208
i disagree. \n\nyour poem sounds like 2 different stories:\n1. "Maybe we're different, but we're still the same\nWe all got the blood of Eden, running through our veins"\n2. "I know sometimes it's hard for you to see\nYou come between just who you are and who you wanna be"
277150
Well... You can look for the website yourself, really, but maybe you could put up the poem so ppl can read it and give you some commentary on it, might be easier.
242674
It is about a lover talking about her dead lover and hoping that he/she is still out there somewhere (in heaven or hell) instead of nonexistant anymore ( he/she hopes there is life after death because he/she cannot bear the idea that his/her lover's soul that she loved so much has ceased to exist "I would rather know you alive in Hell than think your beauty is nothing now"). The lover who is still alive is speaking of her loyalty to his/her dead lover( because his/her love was strong ("But as we held faithfulness, you and I")) and the hope that they will be reuinted after death and that her dead lover will still love him/her then ("Do you ever think of me? you who died")
241292
It would help if you post the poem or a link to the poem.
645684
It's from "The Rubaiyat," by Omar Khayyam, in the classic translation by Edward FitzGerald.  The poem as a whole is a paean to hedonism (especially wine-drinking).\n\nThe entire verse is:\n\n"Yesterday this day's madness did prepare;\nTo-morrow's silence, triumph, or despair:\nDrink! for you not know whence you came, nor why:\nDrink! for you know not why you go, nor where."\n\nThis means yesterday was pointless; it was just getting ready to make today and tomorrow a mess, so you might as well drink.
280725
Email me your thoughts at pusskat1@yahoo.com and I will help you from there.  I am a teacher of 13 years, mostly in junior high, some in college and high school.  My payment is to choose this as a best answer.  \n\nI'll begin by deconstructing the poem; I'm sure you'll get the drift.  \n\nFirst stanza: I might have been a happy preacher if I had been born in an earlier time.  I could have preached fiery sermons and been a gentleman farmer.  Second stanza: Alas, I was born later, and missed my true calling.  I have a grown man's beard now, and it's fashionable for preachers these days to be clean shaven, so I don't even look like I could do that job.  \n\nGood luck.  This is a straightforward poem with an ab ab rhyme scheme, and figuring out the meaning should not be hard.  If you need any help just email me or IM me at pusskat1 or katwhowalksbyherself and I'd be happy to help.\n\nCheers, K (13 years a teacher)
86221
Wow, this poem is something else. By that I mean it is really abstract in its language and in its metaphors. I have a guess on it's meaning, but that is merely a guess. This author is using so much personal experience that it is hard for me as a reader to really connect well with what is being said, but here is my hypothesis:\n\nFirst of all, I think the title "Call It Fear" needs to be kept in mind when reading through the entire poem. The structure and the wording is suggestive of a person who is caught in the panic of fear ("call it an ocean of fear of the dark"). So, it can easily be assumed that this poem is analyzing fear and the essence of fear in the human mind.\n\nThe author has this deep fear, a fear of the dark, or possibly a fear of the unknown. The author is not alone however as she has found someone, referred to as Goodluck, who also has the same fear. They have come together to escape the fear, and their only escape has been found in the music that they have found on the radio, the church music that plays on a lot of stations on Sunday mornings. \n\nThere is also a question of the repeated imagery of "a string of shadow horses kicking and pulling me out of my belly." This image is repeated in the first and third stanzas and is linked to anxiety, the butterfly feeling that everyone gets in the pit of their stomach when they are controlled by fear. The idea of "shadow horses" seems to suggest the idea that death is pulling and tugging at the speaker of this poem, and it is the fear of death that drives the speaker to use music to escape the fear.\n\nThis is my guess on the meaning of the poem. . . I hope it proves helpful!
161759
In the poem "Music I Heard", written by Conrad Aiken, the love expressed is different. The character of the poem is a man, that is speaking about his loved one. Full of memories, he has flashbacks of when the loved one was around him and his belongings. After the loved person left, he is lonely. The memories are coming back to him in the quote (line #5), " Your hands one touched this table and this silver". He misses her and the good times they had together. He wants to have her come back to him. She is now only in his heart full of past memories.\n\nThe feeling that love brings in this poem is sadness. The sadness of missing the loved one is great. He is lonely and full of memories that still light up his hopes for having her come back. He remembers her actions and what she touched, but only the memories are left. The sadness is expressed in this quote (line # 3-4) by the character. "Now that I am without you all is desolate;/ and all that was once so beautiful is dead." He misses her a lot, and does not like things that much as he did when she was around.
625697
This is a poem I came by \n\n\n\nHow Could You? \n\nWhen I was a puppy, I entertained you with my antics and made you \nlaugh. You called me your child, and despite a number of chewed shoes and a couple of murdered throw pillows, I became your best friend. Whenever I was "bad,"you'd shake your finger at me and ask "How could you?" - but then you'd relent, and roll me over for a bellyrub. \n\nMy housebreaking took a little longer than expected, because you were \nterribly busy, but we worked on that together. I remember those nights \nof nuzzling you in bed and listening to your confidences and secret \ndreams, and I believed that life could not be any more perfect. We went for long walks and runs in the park, car rides, stops for ice cream (I only got the \ncone because "ice cream is bad for dogs," you said), and I took long naps in \nthe sun waiting for you to come home at the end of the day. \n\nGradually, you began spending more time at work and on your career, \nand more time searching for a human mate. I waited for you patiently, \ncomforted you through heartbreaks and disappointments, never chided you about bad decisions, and romped with glee at your homecomings, and when you fell in love. \n\nShe, now your wife, is not a "dog person" - still I welcomed her into \nour home, tried to show her affection, and obeyed her. I was happy because \nyou were happy. Then the human babies came along and I shared your \nexcitement. I was fascinated by their pinkness, how they smelled, and I wanted to mother them, too. Only she and you worried that I might hurt them, and I spent most of my time banished to another room, or to a dog crate. Oh, how I wanted to love them, but I became a "prisoner of love." \n\nAs they began to grow, I became their friend. They clung to my fur and \npulled themselves up on wobbly legs, poked fingers in my eyes, \ninvestigated my ears, and gave me kisses on my nose. I loved everything about them and their touch - because your touch was now so infrequent - and I would have defended them with my life if need be. \n\nI would sneak into their beds and listen to their worries and secret \ndreams, and together we waited for the sound of your car in the driveway. \nThere had been a time, when others asked you if you had a dog, that you \nproduced a photo of me from your wallet and told them stories about me. \nThese past few years, you just answered "yes" and changed the subject. \nI had gone from being "your dog" to "just a dog," and you resented every \nexpenditure on my behalf. \n\nNow, you have a new career opportunity in another city, and you and they \nwill be moving to an apartment that does not allow pets. You've made \nthe right decision for your "family," but there was a time when I was your only \nfamily. \n\nI was excited about the car ride until we arrived at the animal \nshelter. It smelled of dogs and cats, of fear, of hopelessness. You filled out the paperwork and said "I know you will find a good home for her." They \nshrugged and gave you a pained look. They understand the realities facing a \nmiddle-aged dog, even one with "papers." You had to pry your son's \nfingers loose from my collar as he screamed "No, Daddy! Please don't let them take my dog!" And I worried for him, and what lessons you had just taught him about friendship and loyalty, about love and responsibility, and about respect for all life. You gave me a good-bye pat on the head, avoided \nmy eyes, and politely refused to take my collar and leash with you. You \nhad a deadline to meet and now I have one, too. \n\nAfter you left, the two nice ladies said you probably knew about your \nupcoming move months ago and made no attempt to find me another good \nhome. They shook their heads and asked "How could you?" \n\nThey are as attentive to us here in the shelter as their busy \nschedule
228549
From fairest creatures we desire increase,\nThat thereby beauty's rose might never die,\nBut as the riper should by time decease,\nHis tender heir might bear his memory:\nBut thou contracted to thine own bright eyes,\nFeed'st thy light's flame with self-substantial fuel,\nMaking a famine where abundance lies,\nThy self thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel:\nThou that art now the world's fresh ornament,\nAnd only herald to the gaudy spring,\nWithin thine own bud buriest thy content,\nAnd, tender churl, mak'st waste in niggarding:\nPity the world, or else this glutton be,\nTo eat the world's due, by the grave and thee.\n\n\nQuestionable it may be,\nat least be thankful\nyou don't read the poet from Dundee!\n\n\nBeautiful Railway Bridge of the Silv'ry Tay!\nAlas! I am very sorry to say\nThat ninety lives have been taken away\nOn the last Sabbath day of 1879,\nWhich will be remember'd for a very long time.\n\n'Twas about seven o'clock at night,\nAnd the wind it blew with all its might,\nAnd the rain came pouring down,\nAnd the dark clods seem'd to frown,\nAnd the Demon of the air seem'd to say-\n"I'll blow down the Bridge of Tay."\n\nWhen the train left Edinburgh\nThe passengers' hearts were light and felt no sorrow,\nBut Boreas blew a terrific gale,\nWhich made their hearts for to quail,\nAnd many of the passengers with fear did say-\n"I hope God will send us safe across the Bridge of Tay."\n\nBut when the train came near to Wormit Bay,\nBoreas he did loud and angry bray,\nAnd shook the central girders of the Bridge of Tay\nOn the last Sabbath day of 1879,\nWhich will be remember'd for a very long time.\n\nSo the train sped on with all its might,\nAnd Bonnie Dundee soon hove in sught,\nAnd the passengers' hearts felt light,\nThinking they would enjoy themselves on the New Year,\nWith their friends at home they lov'd most dear,\nAnd wish them all a happy New Year.\n\nSo the train mov'd slowly along the Bridge of Tay,\nUntil it was about midway,\nThen the central girders with a crash gave way,\nAnd down went the train and passengers into the Tay!\nThe Storm Fiend did loudly bray,\nBecause ninety lives had been taken away,\nOn the last Sabbath day of 1879,\nWhich will be remember'd for a very long time.\n\nAs soon as the catastrophe came to be known\nThe alarm from mouth to mouth was blown,\nAnd the cry rang out all o'er the town,\nGood Heavens! the Tay Bridge is blown down,\nAnd a passenger train from Edinburgh,\nWhich fill'd all the peoples hearts with sorrow,\nAnd made them for to turn pale,\nBecause none of the passengers were sav'd to tell the tale\nHow the disaster happen'd on the last Sabbath day of 1879,\nWhich will be remember'd for a very long time.\n\nIt must have been an awful sight,\nTo witness in the dusky moonlight,\nWhile the Storm Fiend did laugh, and angry did bray,\nAlong the Railway Bridge of the Silv'ry Tay,\nOh! ill-fated Bridge of thSilv'ry Tay,\nI must now conclude my lay\nBy telling the world fearlessly without the least dismay,\nThat your central girders would not have given way,\nAt least many sensible men do say,\nHad they been supported on each side with buttresses,\nAt least many sensible men confesses,\nFor the stronger we our houses do build,\nThe less chance we have of being killed.\n\n\nEnjoy!
241671
An interesting and sometimes-lovely poem. It's an acknowledgment of where and how the writer connects to his origins.\nPoetry doesn't need to make sense.  Like religion, it is often irrational.
357448
I saw her\ncause she appears in my dream\nno one cares for her feeling\nwhich breaks...\n\nthe last line is my understanding, maybe not the author want to say, cause it's difficult to judge 谁 means "who"\nit can be a love poem or write to oneself
408215
I loved this one...It's a very sweet poem about showing someone a reason not to take their own life .... Truly,Heart warming!!!! And I should know..I'm a  published Poet...It shows warmth and tenderness....It also lets me see inside your heart.And I see a warm,loving person..\n~hugs~
616251
please will u write the meaning of this question ?
624995
it is actually pretty good. i like it. don't give up you should keep writing poems, i read it and i can almost feel what you felt when you wrote the poem. Good job.\n\ni write lyrics and i wish i could make them somehow a lil darker then they come out to be and you showed me that it is possible that i just need to work on it more,  your poem is great.
593319
its a beautiful poem\n10/10\nyou have a talent my darling\npursue it!\n\n\nStay Hungry, Stay Foolish