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Stouffer

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Posts posted by Stouffer

  1. To add a bit of sophistication to the GF what are your favourite poems. Mine are two GCSE study poems but for whatever reason I've never forgotten them.

     

    Digging - Seamus Heaney

     

     

    Between my finger and my thumb

    The squat pen rests; as snug as a gun.

     

    Under my window a clean rasping sound

    When the spade sinks into gravelly ground:

    My father, digging. I look down

     

    Till his straining rump among the flowerbeds

    Bends low, comes up twenty years away

    Stooping in rhythm through potato drills

    Where he was digging.

     

    The coarse boot nestled on the lug, the shaft

    Against the inside knee was levered firmly.

    He rooted out tall tops, buried the bright edge deep

    To scatter new potatoes that we picked

    Loving their cool hardness in our hands.

     

    By God, the old man could handle a spade,

    Just like his old man.

     

    My grandfather could cut more turf in a day

    Than any other man on Toner's bog.

    Once I carried him milk in a bottle

    Corked sloppily with paper. He straightened up

    To drink it, then fell to right away

    Nicking and slicing neatly, heaving sods

    Over his shoulder, digging down and down

    For the good turf. Digging.

     

    The cold smell of potato mold, the squelch and slap

    Of soggy peat, the curt cuts of an edge

    Through living roots awaken in my head.

    But I've no spade to follow men like them.

     

    Between my finger and my thumb

    The squat pen rests.

    I'll dig with it.

     

     

     

     

    Dulce Et Decorum Est - Wilfred Owen

     

    Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,

    Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,

    Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs

    And towards our distant rest began to trudge.

    Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots

    But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;

    Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots

    Of tired, outstripped Five-Nines that dropped behind.

     

     

    Gas! Gas! Quick, boys!-An ecstasy of fumbling,

    Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time;

    But someone still was yelling out and stumbling

    And flound'ring like a man in fire or lime...

    Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light,

    As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.

     

     

    In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,

    He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.

     

     

    If in some smothering dreams you too could pace

    Behind the wagon that we flung him in,

    And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,

    His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;

    If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood

    Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,

    Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud

    Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,-

    My friend, you would not tell with such high zest

    To children ardent for some desperate glory,

    The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est

    Pro patria mori.

  2. I don't want a witch-hunt to get people banned, just for the endless amounts of crap spouted to stop. Lets hear what people have to say. Like I say the house fire thread has potential but people will be reluctant to post because I suspect they believe it to end in utter drivel.

  3. Even my ignore function is limited as every thread I view is filled with,

     

    This message is hidden because a certain user is on your ignore list.
    messages.

     

    Stop spamming rubbish.

     

    Some of your threads could be quite good, ie house fires and the keeper deabte. Stop turning everything to a Sami-fest you big fat mental.

     

    I'm naming no names.

  4. I hate the way Radio 1 think they can push this rubbish. Scott Mills - "Just buy it and make the Hoff happy"

     

    NorthernRed - "Please just die Scott Mills and make the rest of the world happy!"

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