We are the hollow men
We are the stuffed men 3
Leaning together
Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!
Our dried voices, when 5
We whisper together4
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass
Or rat's feet over broken glass
In our dry cellar 10
Shape without form, shade without color,
Paralyzed force, gesture without motion;5
Those who have crossed
With direct eyes, to death's other kingdom
Remember us - if at all - not as lost6 15
Violent souls, but only
As the hollow men
The stuffed men.

The Hollow Men (verse 1 out of 5) by T.S. Eliot, 1925

Mistah Kurtz -- he dead
A penny for the Old Guy

Ranks pretty high on my favorite poetry, and I can finally use it for something guyz! so excited! But really, its an amazing peice. I also get to use George Orwell's England, Your England (1941) another favorite. Who am I kidding I just adore Orwell.

other recommendations:

Beyond the Wire --John Cromer Braun
Doodlebugs -- Grace Griffeths
To a conscript of 1940 --Herbert Read
Anthem for Doomed Youth --Wilfred Owen _{*actually used this in reference for a few assignments, easily relates to any war, and much more.}


You know what poem I detest? Langston Hughes, a dream deferred. that is right, I said it. I HATE it. Don't get me wrong, I know there's nothing wrong with it, and I like other works by him...but this? This poem is a deep personal hatred formed in 9th grade pre-Advanced Placement preparatory honors class or whatever the freaking long name was! You get the point.

now, back to -shudders- my poem analyzing and comparing and such....

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