Because I could not stop for Death - Emily Dickenson

Because I could not stop for Death –
He kindly stopped for me – 
The Carriage held but just Ourselves – 
And Immortality.

We slowly drove – He knew no haste
And I had put away
My labor and my leisure too,
For His Civility –

We passed the School, where Children strove
At Recess – in the Ring – 
We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain – 
We passed the Setting Sun –

Or rather – He passed us –
The Dews drew quivering and chill –
For only Gossamer, my Gown –
My Tippet – only Tulle –

We paused before a House that seemed
A Swelling of the Ground –
The Roof was scarcely visible –
The Cornice – in the Ground –

Since then – 'tis Centuries – and yet
Feels shorter than the Day
I first surmised the Horses' Heads
Were toward Eternity – 

Anthem for 17-Year-Old Muslim - Lee Jiawei

What passing-bells for you who prays to Allah?
Only the monstrous anger of G. Keerthi.
Only the spluttering idiot’s putrid prattle
Can patter out your anguished affectation.
No mockeries now for you; no prayers from Fongs,
Nor any screams of adulation save the choirs, -
The shrill, demented choirs of wailing Smiths,
And fangirls laughing at your spare tyres.
What candles may be burnt to cheer you up?
Not in the hands of boys, but on a cake
Shall shine the holy glimmers of your sweet seventeen.
The genius of this parody shall be my gift:
No pork, nor lard can desecrate this day,
For this 4th of Feb be your happy birthday!

Jiawei's dedication to Anish on his 17th birthday. Hilarious, yes yes cool guy own this i have to admit

5 Ways to Kill a Man - Edwin Brock

There are many cumbersome ways to kill a man:
you can make him carry a plank of wood
to the top of a hill and nail him to it. To do this
properly you require a crowd of people
wearing sandals, a cock that crows, a cloak
to dissect, a sponge, some vinegar and one
man to hammer the nails home.

Or you can take a length of steel,
shaped and chased in a traditional way,
and attempt to pierce the mental cage he wears.
But for this you need white horses,
English trees, men with bows and arrows,
at least two flags, a prince and a
castle to hold your banquet in.

Dispensing with nobility, you may, if the wind
allows, blow gas at him. But then you need
a mile of mud sliced through with ditches,
not to mention black boots,bomb craters,
more mud, a plague of rats, a dozen songs
and some round hats made of steel.

In an age of aeroplanes, you may fly
miles above your victim and dispose of him by
pressing one small switch. All you then
require is an ocean to separate you, two
systems of government, a nation's scientists,
several factories, a psychopath and
land that no one needs for several years.

These are, as I began, cumbersome ways
to kill a man. Simpler, direct, and much more neat
is to see that he is living somewhere in the middle
of the twentieth century, and leave him there.


This poem was on the back of the worksheet i was supposed to completed in class. but in typical miche fashion, instead of doing the work, she did a pract crit on the poem instead. i found it totall brillant and intriguing. Depressing yeah of course but brillant dystopic.