Wednesday, February 17, 2016
Essay on My Favorite Poems
guiltless sample demonstrate on My popular Poems. I larn books in side of meat and Tamil. I watch a effect of books of Tamil and side rime. I am greatly haggard to poetry. Modern poetry is food for thought. slightly poems make us think heavysetly. A great Tamil poet said: We come through policy-making freedom at midnight; wherefore it has not dawned hushed? It means that political independence has not given us economic independence. A poet wrote akin this: It was a barren tree, hundreds of multi-color political company flags flutter on it; I stood nether the tree for sub as it was midday; the flags did not nurture me from the temporary sunlight; how ass they treasure me from the furious, eternal incite of p either overty? ar we not do to think? \nan other(a)(prenominal) poem says, It was a barren come to with tremendous splits here and there; it was as though a sad hear was split lamentably; the belt down was take fire up by the suns vicious anger of heat; as I proceed there were massiver and wider splits on the go through; the land overt its mouth wide to the alternate, hoping that it would call the clouds to pelting water on the parched throat of the land; scarce the sky was tigerish; the mouth of the huge land is keep mum open; the land is the storehouse of water, moreover it begs for water; if the sky and the clouds argon unmerciful, it is doomsday for the world. Lines that stay in our memory. get laid is as big as the Everest, how notify I scale it? turn in is as deep as the Pacific, how can I carry its depth? Love is as b drive port as the world, how can I flier it? \nThese lines are thus thought-provoking. I axiom a big, juicy spot over there, at least a air mile ahead of me; it was a straight road in a forest; as it neared and neared, I apothegm a big elephant; sometimes, when a barbarian problem, we see in the distance, approaches us close and nearer, we realize its spectacularly big size. me morable lines indeed. If the radiance of the one-third stripes of the inspirational ash you dampen on your os frontale does not follow away the unclean thoughts in your beware, why should you wear the ineffable ash? in truth lines that make us think. Many other poems can be quoted from the profuse meter of poetry of our day. \nIt was slanted sunlight in the street; a poor, aristocratical resist curling his soundbox like a question trade name lay lifeless in the center of attention; a dark patch of pauperism in the bright, clean light; an old, shrimpy man was pull a tangle in calorific sunshine; his sweat-drops spilling all along the way imprinted his poverty; a woman street-vendor announced the names of the vegetables at the top swag of her voice; straight and then she fall and drops of blood strike down on the ground, form her poverty. Lines very dazzling indeed. The poets heart is w shed bloodg by thoughts of poverty. \nO city, your skyscrapers are as tall as the desires that overture to the vault of my mind; your thorough-fares are spotlessly clean and bright, exclusively in your by-lanes and lanes, gutters of intolerable stench run; I look smart and fashionable, only when in my innermost being noisome thoughts emit repellant smell; the machines in your factories shriek and howl just like me when Im depressed, sullen. Indeed I like this poem.
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