i need a good poem to read for class

[Pawn Power]

i am in this class and i need a poem to read in front of the class. It has to take approximatly 5 min. It would be nice if it was one i could really get into.

I am open to any suggestions

thanx

[Solace]

Can it be a song? If so, try this.

"Workers Song"

This ones for the workers who toil night and day
By hand and by brain, to earn you pay
For centuries past, for no more than your bread
You've bled for your countries and counted your dead
In the factories and mills, in the shipyards and mines
We've often been told to keep up with the times
For our skills are not needed, they've streamlined the job
And with slide rule and stopwatch, our pirde they have robbed

We're the first ones to starve and the first ones to die
The first ones in line for that pie in the sky
And we're always the last, when the cream is shared out
For the worker is working while the fat cats are out

And when the sky darkens and the prospect is war
Who's given the gun and pushed to the fore
And expected to die, for the land of your birth
Though we've never even owned a lousy handful of dirt
And all of these things, the worker has done
From tilling the fields to carrying the gun
We've been yoked to the plow, since time first began
And always expected to carry the can

[Pawn Power]

no it cant be a song and its not 5 min

thanks anyway, i appreciate your help

[Lefty]

I suggest "Howl" by Allen Ginsberg. Read it quickly and with a crazed look in your eye. It's long, so it will take 5 minutesish. Failing that, "Amethyst Rocks" by Saul Williams.

[peaccenicked]

this one is brill
http://www.robertburns.org/works/496.shtml

[Pedro Alonso Lopez]

I was going to say Howl aswell:

there is a link in this thread http://www.che-lives.com/forum/index.php?showtopic=23779

I'm a huge fan, its really impressive if you can keep it up. Just do the first two verses or so.

Remember to make your voice get louder the more you get into it to compliment the anger that is developing throughout the poem.

[honest intellectual]

Go for Crow's Account of the Battle by Ted Hughes. That'll freak 'em out good and proper.

Crow's Account of the Battle
--------------------------------
There was this terrific battle.
The noise was as much
As the limits of possible noise could take.
There were screams higher groans deeper
Than any ear could hold.
Many eardrums burst and some walls
Collapsed to escape the noise.
Everything struggled on its way
Through this tearing deafness
As through a torrent in a dark cave.

The cartridges were banging off, as planned,
The fingers were keeping things going
According to excitement and orders.
The unhurt eyes were full of deadliness.
The bullets pursued their courses
Through clods of stone, earth and skin,
Through intestines, pocket-books, brains, hair, teeth
According to Universal laws
And mouths cried "Mamma"
From sudden traps of calculus,
Theorems wrenched men in two,
Shock-severed eyes watched blood
Squandering as from a drain pipe
Into the blanks between the stars.
Faces slammed down into clay
As for the making of a life-mask
Knew that even on the sun's surface
They could not be learning more or more to the point.
Reality was giving its lesson,
Its mishmash of scripture and physics,
With here, brains in hands, for example,
And there, legs in a treetop.
There was no escape except into death.
And still it went on--it outlasted
Many prayers, many a proved watch,
Many bodies in excellent trim,
Till the explosives ran out
And sheer weariness supervened
And what was left looked round at what was left.

Then everybody wept,
Or sat, too exhausted to weep,
Or lay, too hurt to weap.
And when the smoke cleared it became clear
This had happened too often before
And was going to happen too often in the future
And happened too easily
Bones were too like lath and twigs
Blood was too much like water
Cries were too like silence
The most terrible grimaces too like footprints in mud
And shooting somebody through the midriff
Was too like striking a match
Too like potting a snooker ball
Too like tearing up a bill
Blasting the whole world to bits
Was too like slamming a door
Too like dropping in a chair
Exhausted with rage
Too like being blown to bits yourself
Which happened too easily
With too like no consequences.

So the survivors stayed.
And the earth and the sky stayed.
Everything took the blame.

Not a leaf flinched, nobody smiled.

[Pawn Power]

thanks eveyone for your suggestions and help, i very much appreciate it.

[Lefty]

Which one are you using?

[Pawn Power]

some of them where to short but others where to long but i think i willo read some parts from HOWL but not the whole thing its too long

[Wenty]

If its not too late you could read 'the hollow men' by t.s. eliot. Great poem.

I agree Howl is a great poem if you can stomach the length. Always love the opening lines:-


I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked, dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix, angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night

And its true, look how Kerouac ended up.

[Hate Is Art]

wow, "howl" thats a great poem, I agree with Wenty on the awesomeness of the opening lines.

[Al Creed]

I suggest mine.. Granted I'm not much more than a shmuck Canuck witha keyboard...

The Enemy Wears A Blue Vest
by Al Creed

There's an insurrection afoot,
An invasion has taken place,
But the enemy doth not wear black,
This enemy dons a smiling, yellow face.

They set camp in your home,
Their fortresses are built strong
They convince your friends,
That they can do no wrong.

Yet, they destroy their opposition,
Like some infectious pest.
Let this message cross the land,
The Enemy Wears a Blue Vest.

They can afford their low prices,
By opression of their workforce.
Minorities scrub their floors,
While the master drives a porche.

This Blue menace, this invading army,
Will not stop, Knows no bound.
For they will take your autonomy,
And drill it into the ground.

Dispose this great evil,
Defy their great Sultan.
For the Devil has a new name,
That of Sam Walton.

You, and only you, can end the greed.
Do not buy, do not shop, do not spend.
Show them, they are not wanted,
And that thier invasion must end.

[Pedro Alonso Lopez]

Glad you picked Howl, I still love hearing people read it aloud to this day, wonderful piece of peotry.

[toastedmonkey]

Goethe is a brilliant poet, any of his stuff is well worth reading

5 mins? i would suggest if its not too late: The Diary
it was written in 1810 and is magnificent

[Revolt!]

You could read some Poe and get really into it. The Raven is a classic, reminds me of a great Simpsons episode.

[Hate Is Art]

Here's a couple of my poem/lyrics just for good measure

The Great War

On and On and On they march
Theres nothing like a grand last stand
Hit them at their hardest to
To show them we mean business

Gas and bullets and bombs cannot stop
Our Little Tin Soldiers

Here he come the unknown soldier
For him war never ends, for him it never ends

Gas out the little rats
Attack Advance Attack
Theirs no room for Cowards Here
So dont you dare turn Back

Napalm Groove
Baby can you hear them scream
Baby can you see them run
Come on down to the jungle
We're gonna have some fun
Crimson flames run the forest nude
I can tell there's a napalm Mood

We've got the napalm groove
We've got guerilla moves
We're gonna dance on out of this town
With the revolution blues

Agent Orange greated me today
He said he'd make us pay
Come on down to the jungle
We're gonna have some fun
Red Stars for freedom god
Red stars for blood

And they don't play anymore
And they don't sing anymore
they dont' exist anymore

[toastedmonkey]

What did you go for then glory?

how did it go?

[Invader Zim]

Gunga Din by Rudyard Kipling

YOU may talk o’ gin and beer
When you’re quartered safe out ’ere,
An’ you’re sent to penny-fights an’ Aldershot it;
But when it comes to slaughter
You will do your work on water,
An’ you’ll lick the bloomin’ boots of ’im that’s got it.
Now in Injia’s sunny clime,
Where I used to spend my time
A-servin’ of ’Er Majesty the Queen,
Of all them blackfaced crew
The finest man I knew
Was our regimental bhisti, Gunga Din.
He was “Din! Din! Din!
You limpin’ lump o’ brick-dust, Gunga Din!
Hi! slippery hitherao!
Water, get it! Panee lao
You squidgy-nosed old idol, Gunga Din.”
The uniform ’e wore
Was nothin’ much before,
An’ rather less than ’arf o’ that be’ind,
For a piece o’ twisty rag
An’ a goatskin water-bag
Was all the field-equipment ’e could find.
When the sweatin’ troop-train lay
In a sidin’ through the day,
Where the ’eat would make your bloomin’ eyebrows crawl,
We shouted “Harry By!”
Till our throats were bricky-dry,
Then we wopped ‘im ‘cause ’e couldn’t serve us all.
It was “Din! Din! Din!
You ’eathen, where the mischief ’ave you been?
You put some juldee in it
Or I’ll marrow you this minute
If you don’t fill up my helmet, Gunga Din!”

’E would dot an’ carry one
Till the longest day was done;
An’ ’e didn’t seem to know the use o’ fear.
If we charged or broke or cut,
You could bet your bloomin’ nut,
’E’d be waitin’ fifty paces right flank rear.
With ’is mussick on ‘is back,
’E would skip with our attack,
An’ watch us till the bugles made “Retire”,
An’ for all ’is dirty ’ide
’E was white, clear white, inside
When ’e went to tend the wounded under fire!
It was “Din! Din! Din!”
With the bullets kickin’ dust-spots on the green.
When the cartridges ran out,
You could hear the front-files shout,
”Hi! ammunition-mules an’ Gunga Din!”

I shan’t forgit the night
When I dropped be’ind the fight
With a bullet where my belt-plate should ’a’ been.
I was chokin’ mad with thirst,
An’ the man that spied me first
Was our good old grinnin’, gruntin’ Gunga Din.
’E lifted up my ’ead,
An’ he plugged me where I bled,
An’ ’e guv me ’arf-a-pint o’ water-green:
It was crawlin’ and it stunk,
But of all the drinks I’ve drunk,
I’m gratefullest to one from Gunga Din.
It was “Din! Din! Din!
’Ere’s a beggar with a bullet through ’is spleen;
’E’s chawin’ up the ground,
An’ ’e’s kickin’ all around:
For Gawd’s sake git the water, Gunga Din!”

’E carried me away
To where a dooli lay,
An’ a bullet come an’ drilled the beggar clean.
’E put me safe inside,
An’ just before ’e died,
“I ’ope you liked your drink”, sez Gunga Din.
So I’ll meet ’im later on
At the place where ’e is gone—
Where it’s always double drill and no canteen;
’E’ll be squattin’ on the coals
Givin’ drink to poor damned souls,
An’ I’ll get a swig in hell from Gunga Din!
Yes, Din! Din! Din!
You Lazarushian-leather Gunga Din!
Though I’ve belted you and flayed you,
By the livin’ Gawd that made you,
You’re a better man than I am, Gunga Din!

[elijahcraig]

Whoroscope by Samuel Beckett (98 lines).