Can you please send me a poem representing symbolism?
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In Baudelaire's poem Correspondences which also speaks tellingly of forêts de symboles — forests of symbols —\n\nIl est des parfums frais comme des chairs d’enfants,\nDoux comme les hautbois, verts comme les prairies,\n— Et d’autres, corrompus, riches et triomphants,\n\nAyant l’expansion des choses infinies,\nComme l’ambre, le musc, le benjoin et l’encens,\nQui chantent les transports de l’esprit et des sens. \n(There are perfumes that are fresh like the colour of babies' skins,\nsweet like oboes, green like meadows\n— And others, corrupt, rich, and triumphant,\n\nhaving the expansiveness of infinite things,\nlike amber, musc, benjamin, and incense,\nwhich sing of the raptures of the mind and senses.)
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A friend emailed this to me the other day. I thought it was very touching and a beautiful tribute. Don't know if this helps but maybe someone will like it with Mothers Day coming up soon.\n\n MOTHER\n>\n> This is a truly BEAUTIFUL piece please\n> read this at a slow pace, digesting every word and in\n> leisure...do not hurry....this is a treasure...\n>\n> For those lucky to still be blessed with your Mom,\n> this is beautiful. For those of us who aren't, this is\n> even more beautiful. For those who are moms, you'll love this.\n>\n> The young mother set her foot on the path of life. "Is\n> this the long way?" she asked.   And the guide said:  "Yes, and the way is\nhard.\n> And you will be old before you reach the end of it. But\n> the end  will be better than the beginning."\n>\n> But the young mother was happy, and she would not\n> believe that  anything could be better than these years. So she\n> played with her children, and gathered flowers for\n> them along the way, and bathed them in the clear streams; and\n> the sun shone on them, and the young Mother cried,\n> "Nothing will ever be lovelier than this."\n>\n> Then the night came, and the storm, and the path was\n> dark, and the children shook with fear and cold, and the mother\n> drew them close and covered them with her mantle, and the children said,\n> "Mother, we are not afraid, for you are near, and no harm can come."\n>\n> And the morning came, and there was a hill ahead, and\n> the children climbed and grew weary, and the mother was weary.\n> But at all times she said to the children," A little  patience and we are\nthere."\n> So the children climbed, and when they reached the top\n> they said, "Mother, we would not have done it without you."\n>\n> And the mother, when she lay down at night looked up\n> at the stars and said, "This is a better day than the last, for my\n> children have learned fortitude in the face of hardness. Yesterday I gave\nthem courage.\n> Today, I've given them strength."\n>\n> And the next day came strange clouds which darkened\n> the earth, clouds of war and hate and evil, and the children groped\n> and stumbled, and the mother said: "Look up. Lift your eyes to the light.\n> " And the children looked and saw above the clouds\n> an everlasting glory, and it guided them beyond the\n> darkness. And that night the Mother said,\n> "This is the best day of all, for\n> I have shown my children God."\n>\n> And the days went on, and the weeks and the months and\n> the years, and\n> the mother grew old and she was little and bent.\n> But her children were tall and strong, and walked with\n> courage.  And when the way was rough, they lifted her,\n> for she was as light as a feather; and at last they came to a hill,\n> and beyond they could see a shining road and golden gates flung wide. And\n> mother said, "I have reached the end of my journey. And now I know the end\n> is better than the beginning, for my children can\n> walk alone, and their children after them."\n>\n> And the children said, "You will always walk with us,\n> Mother, even when you have gone\n> through the gates."\n> And they stood  and  watched her as she went on alone, and the gates\n> closed after her.  And they said: "We cannot see her\n> but she is with us still. A Mother like ours is more than a memory.  She\n> is a living presence......."\n>\n> Your Mother is always with you.... She's the whisper\n> of the leaves as you walk down the street; she's the smell of bleach\n> in your freshly laundered socks; she's the cool hand\n> on your brow when\n> you're not well. Your Mother lives\n> inside your laughter. And she's
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I know that this is not what you were looking for but maybe it could help you with your essay?\nhttp://www.finchpark.com/arts/poems/poems.htm
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The best poem is one you would write yourself. If you need help just contact me through my e-mail on my Q&A page. Here is a poem for you.\n\nIf I Never\n\nIf my days were untroubled\nAnd my heart always light\nWould I seek that fair land\nWhere there is no night?\n\nIf I never grew weary\nWith the weight of my load\nWould I search for God’s Peace\nAt the end of the road?\n\nIf I never knew sickness\nAnd never felt pain\nWould I reach for a hand\nTo help and sustain?\n\nIf I walked not with sorrow \nAnd lived without loss\nWould my soul seek sweet solace\nAt the foot of the cross?\n\nIf all I desired was mine\nDay by Day\nWould I kneel before God\nAnd earnestly pray?\n\n\n\nIf God sent no “Winter”\nTo freeze me with fear\nWould I yearn for the warmth\nOf “Spring” every year?\n\nI ask myself this . . .\nAnd the answer is plain\nIf my life were all pleasure\nAnd I never knew pain.\n\nI’d seek God less often\nAnd need him much less\nFor God’s sought more often \nIn times of distress\n\nAnd no one knows God\nOr sees him as plain\nAs those who have met Him\nOn the Pathway of Pain
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http://www.eeeek.com/ask46.html\nhttp://death.monstrous.com/representations_of_death.htm#grim%20reaper
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My symbol would be a swirl
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Excellent poem. I printed it & hung it in my Living room wall.\n Thanks
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i have a site for weather symbols available at my pc at home , if u didnt have any good answer , ill send it to u later
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This is a beautiful poem about losing a loved one..\n\nWhen I'm gone from your side, \nAnd all your tears have been dried ...\n\nDo not stand at my grave and weep, \n\nI am not there, I do not sleep.\n\n\n\n\nI am a thousand winds that blow;\n\nI am the diamond glints on snow;\n\nI am the sunlight on ripened grain; \n\nI am the gentle autumn's rain.\n\n\n\n\nWhen you awaken in the morning hush, \n\nI am the swift uplifting rush \n\nOf quiet birds in circled flight.\n\nI am the soft star that shines at night.\n\n\n\n\nAnd when you stroll in the evening hours, \n\nAnd smell the aroma of beautiful flowers;\n\nThere'll be no need to sob and cry ...\n\nI am not there, I did not die!\n\n\n~ Author Unknown ~
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Need an answer for your project before monday?\nIts not a good idea to leave stuff like that for the last minute.\n\n\nFlowers have been irresitible to painters through the ages. These days we've lost much of the symbolism associated with them, but earlier painters chose flowers to convey very specific messages about their subjects. The meaning associated with a specific flower differs between cultures; the symbolism for each given here is from Western European culture unless specified otherwise.\n\nBamboo: A symbol for longevity (it's always got green shoots) as well as strength and grace (it bends readily but doesn't break easily). In Chinese philosophy the straight stem of bamboo symbolises the path towards enlightment, the segments of the stem being the steps along the way.\n\nCarnation: A symbol of betrothal or engagement. In China, a carnation is a symbol of marriage.\n\nChrysanthemum: The national symbol of Japan, 'mums are a symbol for long life.\n\nClover leaf: The three divided leaves of clover (also known as shamrock or wood sorrel) represent the Christian Holy Trinity of God the Father, Christ the Son, and the Holy Spirit.\n\n\nKabbalah SymbolsGreat deals on Kabbalah Symbols \n\n\nThe national symbol of Ireland and of Ireland's patron saint, St Patrick (his feast day is 17 March). Four-leafed clovers represent luck.\n\nDaisy: The most basic of flowers, a white daisy is a symbol of innocence. (Free daisy stencil)\n\nDeadly nightshade: A highly poisonous plant (Atropa belladonna) with purple bell flowers and small black berries. A symbol of deception, danger, and death.\n\nForget-me-not: A low-growing plant (Myosotis) with small, usually blue flowers . As the common name suggests, a symbol of a plea for remembrance. "Forget me not" are supposed to have been the last words of young man who fell into a river and drowned while picking these flowers for his lover.\n\nHoneysuckle: A less-common symbol of love. Also of generosity.\n\nIris: Associated with death as Iris was a Greek goddess of the rainbow, which she used to travel down to earth with messages from the gods and to transport women's souls to the underworld. The three upright petals and three drooping sepals are symbols for faith, valour, and wisdom.\n\nJasmine: This strongly scented, white flower is used as a Hindu symbol for love.\n\nLily: Symbolises purity, chastity, and innocence. White lilies represent the purity of the Virgin Mary. The Angel Gabriel was often painted presenting Mary with a white lily when he announced to her that she would give birth to the Son of God.\n\nLotus: A common symbol in Asian art, the lotus symbolises birth and rebirth through the fact that the petals open when the sun comes out and close when the sun sets. Also a symbol for fertility, creation, and purity. The long stem symbolises our connection to our origins, while the flower represents the enlightenment to which we aspire.\n\nMistletoe: Standing under the mistletoe at Christmas gives anyone the opportunity to kiss you.\n\nOrchid: A symbol of perfection. The spots on an orchid sometimes represent the blood of Christ.\n\nPoppy: A symbol of death. Red poppies are a symbol of Remembrance Day (11 November), which commemorates the dead of the First and Second World Wars.\n\nRose: To symbolise love and passion, use red roses. For virginity and purity use white roses. To symbolise jealousy and infidelity, use yellow roses. In Catholocism, red roses are a symbol of the Virgin Mary. (Free rose stencil.)\n\nRosemary: Included in funeral wreaths as a symbol of remembrance and in wedding bouqeuts as a symbol for fidelity. It's said that if you touch a lover with a sprig of rosemary, they'll be faithful.\n\nSunflowers: As a flower which blindly follows the sun, sunflowers have become a symbol of infatuation or foolish passion.\n\nThistle: A thorny plant with a beautiful flower, the national symbol of Scotland. It's thorns symbolise both evil a
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This would be a great poem to use as a speech.\n\nA Brave And Startling Truth\nBy Maya Angelou\n\nWe, this people, on a small and lonely planet \nTraveling through casual space \nPast aloof stars, across the way of indifferent suns \nTo a destination where all signs tell us \nIt is possible and imperative that we learn \nA brave and startling truth \n\nAnd when we come to it \nTo the day of peacemaking \nWhen we release our fingers \nFrom fists of hostility \nAnd allow the pure air to cool our palms \n\nWhen we come to it \nWhen the curtain falls on the minstrel show of hate \nAnd faces sooted with scorn and scrubbed clean \nWhen battlefields and coliseum \nNo longer rake our unique and particular sons and daughters \nUp with the bruised and bloody grass \nTo lie in identical plots in foreign soil \n\nWhen the rapacious storming of the churches \nThe screaming racket in the temples have ceased \nWhen the pennants are waving gaily \nWhen the banners of the world tremble \nStoutly in the good, clean breeze \n\nWhen we come to it \nWhen we let the rifles fall from our shoulders \nAnd children dress their dolls in flags of truce \nWhen land mines of death have been removed \nAnd the aged can walk into evenings of peace \nWhen religious ritual is not perfumed \nBy the incense of burning flesh \nAnd childhood dreams are not kicked awake \nBy nightmares of abuse \n\nWhen we come to it \nThen we will confess that not the Pyramids \nWith their stones set in mysterious perfection \nNor the Gardens of Babylon \nHanging as eternal beauty \nIn our collective memory \nNot the Grand Canyon \nKindled into delicious color \nBy Western sunsets \n\nNor the Danube, flowing its blue soul into Europe \nNot the sacred peak of Mount Fuji \nStretching to the Rising Sun \nNeither Father Amazon nor Mother Mississippi who, without favor, \nNurture all creatures in the depths and on the shores \nThese are not the only wonders of the world \n\nWhen we come to it \nWe, this people, on this minuscule and kithless globe \nWho reach daily for the bomb, the blade and the dagger \nYet who petition in the dark for tokens of peace \nWe, this people on this mote of matter \nIn whose mouths abide cankerous words \nWhich challenge our very existence \nYet out of those same mouths \nCome songs of such exquisite sweetness \nThat the heart falters in its labor \nAnd the body is quieted into awe \n\nWe, this people, on this small and drifting planet \nWhose hands can strike with such abandon \nThat in a twinkling, life is sapped from the living \nYet those same hands can touch with such healing, irresistible tenderness \nThat the haughty neck is happy to bow \nAnd the proud back is glad to bend \nOut of such chaos, of such contradiction \nWe learn that we are neither devils nor divines \n\nWhen we come to it \nWe, this people, on this wayward, floating body \nCreated on this earth, of this earth \nHave the power to fashion for this earth \nA climate where every man and every woman \nCan live freely without sanctimonious piety \nWithout crippling fear \n\nWhen we come to it \nWe must confess that we are the possible \nWe are the miraculous, the true wonder of this world \nThat is when, and only when \nWe come to it
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sorry, i searched poetry sites,quotation sites, by author,firstlines,subject. best i can think of is contact nearest university library or professor of lit. wish you luck, it sounds like a really heartfelt poem. sure wish i knew it.
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holy crap this is strong!\nlast line is the best. \nclearly you are writing with FEELING and I love that.\ntitle it and send it in some time to a contest.\n\nI simply feel the power in this thing!\nit had me look away in sorrow because i know someone that was bullied to death. IF it helps, you need to talk about you feelings. get help. It doesnt have to be face to face, maybe talk to someone on the phone or by email. But yeah.\n\nI also think that you could have ended at the line " I swear I saw blood" and that the other stuff could be a poem all by itself. OR you could have two separate poems that are meant to be read together like " poem1 and poem2".\n\nthis is amazing.Just write with feeling.See, doenst writing with feeling feel better?
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Here is help from http://www.vsg.edu.au/samples/poetry/npsample.htm\nI will not do your homework, but hope this helps, \n\nExtended Metaphor Poems\n\nRead the following poem:\n \n\nBat\n\nMy son is a bat.\nHis eyes blink when darkness comes.\nHis body stirs with life.\nHis limbs gorge with blood\nas he sets out through the cave of night\nhis roof the stars\nthe moon a big white eye watching.\nAttracted by the false lights\nhe mingles with his batty friends\nweaving in and out of nightclubs\nendless parties\neach other’s places\ntill sensing the sudden ebb\nof darkness\nhe flutters home\na cloaked Dracula\nto the hollow of his room\nwhere he will sleep all day.\n\nIn this poem I’ve compared my son to a bat -- not by using ‘like’ or ‘as’ but saying he is a bat ; where you say one thing is something else [ " the sun is a yellow beach ball " ] you are using a metaphor.\n\nNow when you explore that metaphor -- the ways my son is a bat or the sun a yellow beach ball you are extending the metaphor.\n\nA student I taught wrote this poem about her mother:\n\n        My Mum\n\n        My mum is a general.\n        She stalks through the house\n        telling me what to do.\n        She then sleeps throughout the night.\n        But when she wakes up.....\n        her medals clanking, stars shining\n        & roars us to attention\n        she barks orders as she charges\n        through the house:\n        " Lisa, do the dishes ! "\n        " Lisa, clean your room ! "\n        then crawls back to her bedroom\n        while we, her dutiful soldiers\n        carry out her orders.\n\nTask 1\n\n    * if Lisa truly followed the pattern of Bat what might she have called her poem ?\n    * which title is better ? why do you think ?\n    * what additional thing did Lisa put in her poem that isn’t in Bat ?\n\nNow here is another poem written by a student of mine:\n\n        My Brother\n\n        My brother is a killer whale.\n        He is huge and scary\n        with tatts, long hair & beard.\n        But underneath he is meek\n        spending time in the garden\n        and around the house\n        socialising with the ones\n        he loves\n        giving my cousins rides\n        upon his back.\n        Truly he is more dolphin than killerwhale.\n\nTASK 2\n\n    * where Lisa’s poem added dialogue to the model of Bat what change to the model does Linda make ?\n    * do any of these three poems remind you of anyone ?\n\nTASK 3\n\n    * Now it is your turn to write.\n\n        * Choose someone you know -- a family friend, a relative, a teacher, a student, a celebrity, a cartoon character.\n        * Write down a one line opener.\n        * Then extend the metaphor by describing in what ways your person is like the object you’ve compared them to.\n        * If, for example, your little brother is real timid you might put down:\n          ‘My little brother is a mouse....’\n          then go on to describe how he is timid.\n\nPerhaps you might like to try an extended metaphor poem on an object rather than a person. How might you go about it? The next poem shows you a way:\nBath\n\nA boat-shaped vessel with room\nfor one ; when you\n\nclamber into a bath, you are\ncaptain, crew, passenger\n\nrolled into one --- yet baths\nrequire no special skills\n\nnor do they stand on ceremony ;\nin this they are like\n\nsome beaches -- dress is entirely\noptional ; entering a bath\n\nyou enter a topsy turvy world\nwhere water fills the craft not\n\nsurrounds it -- though baths will\nnever sink ; head back, you\n\nsettle down but are going nowhere---\nbaths have no destinations\n\nnor sails and are permanently in\ndry dock -- yet people\n\nhave been known to drift off\nin baths emerging\n\nrosy skinned and luminous as if\nfresh from a voyage.\nimage359.gif (2786 bytes)\n\nTASK 4\n\n    * choose a common household object or appliance --- a shower would be a good one, or a fridge -- and do an extended metapho
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no offence but wat r da symbols.???
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Awesome poem! I like the way it flows, and how you put feeling into the poem. Kick-A**-Tic. Let me know if you write any more. ROCK ON!!
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I want a poem for my hubby to be, his name is tiem. I want it for his birthday. THANXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX