Rafiq+Robinson

Poetry Portfolio


 * //"P//o//etry is either something that lives like fire inside you--like music to the musician or Marxism to the communist---or else its nothing....." - F. Scott Fitzgerald//**

Lord Byron

The Giaour A Fragment of a Turkish Tale A turban carved in coarsest stone, A pillar with rank weeds o'ergrown, Whereon can now be scarcely read The Koran verse that mourns the dead, Point out the spot where Hassan fell A victim in that lonely dell. There sleeps as true an Osmanlie As e'er at Mecca bent the knee; As ever scorn'd forbidden wine, Or pray'd with face towards the shrine, In orisons resumed anew At solemn sound of "Alla Hu!" Yet died he by a stranger's hand, And stranger in his native land; Yet died he as in arms he stood, And unavenged, at least in blood. But him the maids of Paradise Impatient to their halls invite, And the dark Heaven of Houris' eyes On him shall glance for ever bright; They come---their kerchiefs green they wave, And welcome with a kiss the brave! Who falls in battle 'gainst a Giaour Is worthiest an immortal bower.

But thou, false Infidel! shall writhe Beneath avenging Monkir's scythe; And from its torments 'scape alone To wander round lost Eblis' throne; And fire unquench'd, unquenchable, Around, within, thy heart shall dwell; Nor ear can hear nor tongue can tell The tortures of that inward hell! But first, on earth as Vampire sent, Thy corse shall from its tomb be rent: Then ghastly haunt thy native place, And suck the blood of all thy race; There from thy daughter, sister, wife, At midnight drain the stream of life; Yet loathe the banquet which perforce Must feed thy livid living corse: Thy victims ere they yet expire Shall know the demon for their sire, As cursing thee, thou cursing them, Thy flowers are withered on the stem. But one that for thy crime must fall, The youngest, most beloved of all, Shall bless thee with a father's name--- That word shall wrap thy heart in flame! Yet must thou end thy task, and mark Her cheek's last tinge, her eye's last spark, And the last glassy glance must view Which freezes o'er its lifeless blue; Then with unhallow'd hand shalt tear The tresses of her yellow hair, Of which in life a lock when shorn Affection's fondest pledge was worn, But now is borne away by thee, Memorial of thine agony! Wet with thine own best blood shall drip Thy gnashing tooth and haggard lip; Then stalking to thy sullen grave, Go---and with Gouls and Afrits rave; Till these in horror shrink away From Spectre more accursed than they!

This poem is a vampire poem which by Giaour means vampire. The poem in so many words is just the life of someone who has fought against a vampire. After becoming a vampire he sucks the blood of most humans. "Nor ear can hear nor tongue can tell, The tortures of that inward hell, But first, on earth as Vampire sent, Thy corse shall from its tomb be rent:, Then ghastly haunt thy native place, And suck the blood of all thy race, There from thy daughter, sister, wife, At midnight drain the stream of life." This quote says a lot about the vampire he has become. Although he has become a vampire he still retains some human traits. He wants to rule the vampires and become a king. There are some hidden messages here that suggest he still has feelings for his family but these cannot be confirmed.

AND THOU ART DEAD, AS YOUNG AND FAIR

by: George Gordon (Lord) Byron (1788-1824)

And thou art dead, as young and fair As aught of mortal birth; And form so soft, and charms so rare, Too soon return'd to Earth! Though Earth receiv'd them in her bed, And o'er the spot the crowd may tread In carelessness or mirth, There is an eye which could not brook A moment on that grave to look.

I will not ask where thou liest low, Nor gaze upon the spot; There flowers or weeds at will may grow, So I behold them not: It is enough for me to prove That what I lov'd, and long must love, Like common earth can rot; To me there needs no stone to tell, 'T is Nothing that I lov'd so well.

Yet did I love thee to the last As fervently as thou, Who didst not change through all the past, And canst not alter now. The love where Death has set his seal, Nor age can chill, nor rival steal, Nor falsehood disavow: And, what were worse, thou canst not see Or wrong, or change, or fault in me.

The better days of life were ours; The worst can be but mine: The sun that cheers, the storm that lowers, Shall never more be thine. The silence of that dreamless sleep I envy now too much to weep; Nor need I to repine That all those charms have pass'd away, I might have watch'd through long decay.

The flower in ripen'd bloom unmatch'd Must fall the earliest prey; Though by no hand untimely snatch'd, The leaves must drop away: And yet it were a greater grief To watch it withering, leaf by leaf, Than see it pluck'd to-day; Since earthly eye but ill can bear To trace the change to foul from fair.

I know not if I could have borne To see thy beauties fade; The night that follow'd such a morn Had worn a deeper shade: Thy day without a cloud hath pass'd, And thou wert lovely to the last, Extinguish'd, not decay'd; As stars that shoot along the sky Shine brightest as they fall from high.

As once I wept, if I could weep, My tears might well be shed, To think I was not near to keep One vigil o'er thy bed; To gaze, how fondly! on thy face, To fold thee in a faint embrace, Uphold thy drooping head; And show that love, however vain, Nor thou nor I can feel again.

Yet how much less it were to gain, Though thou hast left me free, The loveliest things that still remain, Than thus remember thee! The all of thine that cannot die Through dark and dread Eternity Returns again to me, And more thy buried love endears Than aught except its living years.

This poem is a testament to the poet's love for the poet's dead companion and apparently life partner. A line that shows a testament to his fallen love is the quote which says "The better days of life were ours, The worst can be but mine". This quote says in so many words that without her his days were worse than when she was with him. This means that with her his days were better and he throughly and significantly enjoyed his days much more when she was with him. Although the quote says this it seems that it has a hidden message which says that without her his days were lost. "The better days of life were ours, The worst can be but mine" says that without her his days were the worse which meant he was in a rut and when she came along not a day with her was better than a day without her.

PROMETHEUS by: George Gordon (Lord) Byron (1788-1824)

TITAN! to whose immortal eyes The sufferings of mortality, Seen in their sad reality, Were not as things that gods despise; What was thy pity's recompense? A silent suffering, and intense; The rock, the vulture, and the chain, All that the proud can feel of pain, The agony they do not show, The suffocating sense of woe, Which speaks but in its loneliness, And then is jealous lest the sky Should have a listener, nor will sigh Until its voice is echoless. Titan! to thee the strife was given Between the suffering and the will, Which torture where they cannot kill; And the inexorable Heaven, And the deaf tyranny of Fate, The ruling principle of Hate, Which for its pleasure doth create The things it may annihilate, Refus'd thee even the boon to die: The wretched gift Eternity Was thine--and thou hast borne it well. All that the Thunderer wrung from thee Was but the menace which flung back On him the torments of thy rack; The fate thou didst so well foresee, But would not to appease him tell; And in thy Silence was his Sentence, And in his Soul a vain repentance, And evil dread so ill dissembled, That in his hand the lightnings trembled. Thy Godlike crime was to be kind, To render with thy precepts less The sum of human wretchedness, And strengthen Man with his own mind; But baffled as thou wert from high, Still in thy patient energy, In the endurance, and repulse Of thine impenetrable Spirit, Which Earth and Heaven could not convulse, A mighty lesson we inherit: Thou art a symbol and a sign To Mortals of their fate and force; Like thee, Man is in part divine, A troubled stream from a pure source; And Man in portions can foresee His own funereal destiny; His wretchedness, and his resistance, And his sad unallied existence: To which his Spirit may oppose Itself--and equal to all woes, And a firm will, and a deep sense, Which even in torture can descry Its own concenter'd recompense, Triumphant where it dares defy, And making Death a Victory.

This poem was about a titan whose name was Prometheus, Prometheus was the most cunning of all the gods and was so clever that he was granted the ability to foresee the future. He created humans and for some reason was punished for it. Through all the torture and hardships he still found a way to make it bearable for him. "In the endurance, and repulse, of thine impenetrable Spirit, the fate thou didst so well foresee, but would not to appease him tell". This quote in particular shows his endurance and abilities. Some key terms to take away from this are impenetrable spirit. He was obviously tortured for his creation of humanity and all the wrong doings humans have done. His spirit had to be impenetrable because of the torture he has been handed in exchange for creation. Through this the gods have passed judgement on him and he's being charged for his creations sins.

Statement About Lord Byron's Poetry

My poet was chosen for one reason because everything he writes makes me think twice about them. They also say things that make you see the struggle or so that you can feel hardship that the character is going through. His poems are like what I try to be individualistic because overtime I read one I can't think of another poem because its so risky, edgy and original. The poets name is Lord Byron.

My Poems

Ode To Turkey

My gut, as though I hadn't eaten lunch, My head aches, and a gnawing hunger stings Who gorged themselves on turkey legs and punch: But been compelled to witness feasting kings But only due to joy to wander free-- Tis not because of nature-given bliss, Do widen my abyss, That thou, a turkey, tender, fat and young, Make emptier my stomach cavity, Mocking me with disdain in gobble-tongue

Pain

As I lose breath the pain finally starts to sink in ouch I say as my bloody hand aches and throbs I attempt to get up but my body and my brain says no my head starts to hurt more and more The shadows surround me as I begin to close my eyes when I open my eyes I see only my blood, a broken table and a angry sister her boyfriend hovering above my apologetic my hand reaches out for the help of another when someone helps me up I hear I told you so then I attempt to swing again

Lights and Flames

On harbour waters shored with my true light Through long hours the flare rippled the flame Of day, the flood of light, its torch-lit might, And filled with streaming silver fish; the wane

That roar of red whose flung light spread fire Still left the white-wing gull aloft to round On hills above the harbour, bled the mound Of cloud above and hid the pale moon sire

Their swooping silent glide like flight of bird A ragged dance around a storm of heard Around a window light, the gulls still flew At midnight; perhaps in to soul flame blew

As the bird flew we feel its joy, we pine To wish for freedom to never be bind

Statement About My Poetry

I don't really have a statement about my poetry. This is because most of my poems are really random and completely written based on how I felt previously. For example if I say something about pain I was probably in pain. Also some of my poetry I do in spite of other poems like if I do a poem with a lot of clichés I do it so that its noticeable. My poems are meant to stand out from the others and remind people of no other poems.