Wednesday's Writings

All of my English classes as an undergrad were specialize in some way. My first was a service-learning course where I volunteered at an elementary school to help kids with cerebral palsy work on their reading. English lit was focused on Southern authors so we read the incredibly confusing "The Sound and the Fury" by William Faulkner and one of my favorites, "I am One of You Forever" by Fred Chappell.

Two other classes were poetry-based and provided a lot of opportunities to write and share some things with others. One of my favorite assignment was to pick a poem and "Mad-Lib" it by replacing some of the words. I chose Alfred, Lord Tennyson's "Break, Break, Break" and changed it up a bit. His is first and mine follows.


Break, break, break,
On thy cold gray stones, O sea!
And I would that my tongue could utter
The thoughts that arise in me.

O, well for the fisherman's boy,
That he shouts with his sister at play!
O, well for the sailor lad,
That he sings in his boat on the bay!

And the stately ships go on
To their haven under the hill;
But O for the touch of a vanished hand,
And the sound of a voice that is still!

Break, break, break,
At the foot of thy crags, O sea!
But the tender grace of a day that is dead
Will never come back to me.



Cry, cry, cry
On thy pale, white face, O Dear!
And I would that my hand could sculpt
The pains that grow in me.

O, well for the lover’s heart
That it bleeds with its bonds at odds.
O, well for the writer lad
That he pens out his mind on the page.

And the lonely thoughts drone on
To their den upon the page.
But O for the thought of an unfinished poem,
And the joy of a phrase that is born!

Cry, cry, cry
At the thought of my words, O Dear!
But the bittersweet revenge of rhymes that are biting
Will never come back to me.