Can you recite a piece of poetry from memory? Which poem, and why have you remembered it?

My grandmother used to say funny little things like the poem below. There's another one, but this one is the most fun to say.

"Starkle, Starkle, little twink
Who the heck you are I think.
I'm not under the affluence of incohol
Like some thinkle peep I are.
I've had tee many martooni's and a scottle of botch,
But I'm not worried
I have all sober to Sunday up!"

Twas brillig and the slithy toves
did gyre and gimble in the wabe
all mimsy were the borogoves
and the mome wrath outgrabe

etc...

I learned The Jabberwocky for an english class in sixth grade, and I still remember the whole thing 35 years later. I even wrote a paper on the poem when I was in college because I had limited time to get the paper done, and didn't feel like going to the library to look up a poem.

Once upon a midnight dreary,
While I pondered weak and weary,
Over a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore...
While I nodded, nearly napping,
Suddenly there came a tapping,
As of someone gently rapping at my chamber door.
"T'is some visitor" I muttered,
"tapping at my chamber door. Only this and nothing more."

This, quite obviously, is "The Raven" by Edgar Allan Poe.

Probably everyone remembers this poem, or at least a part of it. I've always liked Edgar Allan Poe, and this was the first poem I ever read by him. It was in middle school, and we had to recite it in small pieces in groups. I had the first 4 stanzas. I only remember the first stanza, now, though. I wish I still remembered all of what I knew... Don't know why... heh.

Sonnet #18 William Shakespeare.

"Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?"

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature's changing course, untrimm'd;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest;
Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou growest;
So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

I thought it was beautiful. That is why I know it.

Success is failure turned inside out;
The silver tint of the clouds of doubt;
And you never can tell how close you are,
It may be near when it seems afar;
So stick to the fight when you're hardest hit;
It's when things seem worst that you mustn't quit.

Taken from Don't Quit - Anonymous. They made us memorize this during Cadet training. I now find it useful whenever I feel like quitting my job or my diet. :P

Coda

There's little in taking or giving,
There's little in water or wine;
This living, this living, this living
Was never a project of mine.
Oh, hard is the struggle, and sparse is
The gain of the one at the top,
For art is a form of catharsis,
And love is a permanent flop,
And work is the province of cattle,
And rest's for a clam in a shell,
So I'm thinking of throwing the battle-
Would you kindly direct me to hell?

Dorothy Parker

When I first got The Portable Dorothy Parker I opened to a random page and what do you know Coda. Seeing as when I'm not running rantic I'm overwhelmingly depressed, which is the majority of the time I could really relate to this.

If tears could build a stairway

If tears could build a stairway
And memories were a lane
We would walk right up to Heaven
And bring you back again

No farewell words were spoken
No time to say goodbye
You were gone before we knew it
And only God knows why

Our hearts still ache in sadness
And secret tears still flow
What it meant to lose you
No on will ever know

But know we know you want us
To mourn for you no more
To remember all the happy times
Life still has much in store

Since you’ll never be forgotten
We pledge to you today
A hallowed place within our hearts
Is where you’ll always stay

I remember this because it reminds me of the people that are gone in life, plus it is one of the bloody saddest things I have ever read

_In Flanders Fields_, by John McCrae

In Flanders Fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amidst the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset's glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders Fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe;
To you, from failing hands, we throw
The torch; be it yours to hold it high.
If you break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies blow
In Flanders Fields.

Many Canadians learn this poem by heart as part of participating in the observance of Remembrance Day on November 11.

My thoughts at 14 years old and it still holds true today!

Here stands a door so tall and wide,
It opens only to the inside,
What ere' is in can nare come out,
Whats within just think about,
The door is neat and bold for show
But what's beyond no man can know,

Remember me when I am gone away,
Gone far away into the silent land;
When you can no more hold me by the hand,
Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay.
Remember me when no more day by day
You tell me of our future that you planned:
Only remember me; you understand
It will be late to counsel then or pray.
Yet if you should forget me for a while
And afterwards remember, do not grieve:
For if the darkness and corruption leave
A vestige of the thoughts that once I had,
Better by far you should forget and smile
Than that you should remember and be sad.

I have loved this poem since I was a little girl
Annabel Lee by Edgar Allan Poe
It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of Annabel Lee;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea:
But we loved with a love that was more than love -
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her high-born kinsmen came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me -
Yes! that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud one night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we -
Of many far wiser than we -
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling -my darling -my life and my bride,
In the sepulchre there by the sea -
In her tomb by the sounding sea.

Yeah, I've learned a bunch of 'em by heart:

Gunga Din Kipling
Casey at the Bat Thayer
Casey's Revenge Rice (short14 verse version)
The Cremation of Sam McGee Sevice
Empties Coming Back Ponciano

Ogden Nash

The Wendigo,
The Wendigo!
I saw it just a friend ago!
Last night it lurked in Canada;
Tonight, on your veranada!

I "perform" them for my father (88 this summer) who has Alzheimer's and resides in a nursing home. He gets this pained expression on his face for Casey at the Bat or The Cremation of Sam McGee and then he chortles so much he comes to tears. I guess I'm a bit of a ham.

"the jabberwocky" - we had to learn it in year 6 and "all is well" - coz i said it for my grandad's funeral

oh please no...I remember all my poems from 2nd grade....
Here's the first one. (I promise I'm not checking)


The Duck
by Ogden Nash

Behold the duck
It does not cluck
A cluck it lacks
It quacks
It is specially fond
Of a puddle or pond
When it dines or sups,
It bottoms ups.

loved this as a kid and forgot all about it until I watched a haunting in Connecticut

One bright day in the middle of the night
two dead boys got up to fight
back to back they face each other
drew their swords and shot each other
a deaf policeman heard the noise
and came and killed those two deaf boys

three little soldierz standin in a row...
two stood strait and one stood so...
along came the captain... and what do you think???
they all stood strait... az-quick-az-a-wink!!!...

... :D... me uzd tu tel ths pome wid 'aktionz'... n me uzd tu 'wink' at the last fraze... n me wuz jus 2 yearz or so at tht time... me tol ths pome(or made tu...) so manyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy timez tht me stil reimemberz it... he he he... :P... peace!!!

Red, red, red as a rose
Red is the color the
warm
blood
flows.

Nobody cares and nobody knows
The magic that blooms in a
blood
red
rose.


I do not remember the poet or the title.

I do, however, remember why I remember it.

When I was younger 10-13 I was very suicidal and unhappy. This was how I saw everyday life.

yes i can. i can recite a couple actually. my favorite is called disgusting, author unkown (and it actually is a legit poem, cause i found it in a poetry book)

at the bording house where i live
things are getting very old
long gray hiar in the butter
cheese thats green with mold
when the dog died we had sausages
when the cat died, cat nip tea
when the landlord died
i left it
spare ribs, are too much for me.

hahahaha i laugh every time :)

loads of poems - I remember then because they were significant to me at the time. I particulary love:
Stopping by woods on a snowy evening, Robert Frost;
and
Ode to Autumn, John Keats

A mighty pain to love it is
And 'tis a pain that pain to miss
But of all pains, the greatest pain
It is to love, but love in vain.

Saw that in Wikipedia... I think it reflects my situation well.

i remember a few of my own - and part of one my dad wrote.

This is one i wrote.

If i could be an animal
i know which one i'd like
not lion,tiger or a bear
nor dolphin nor a pike
it is a bird that i would be
from eagle to a dove
i'd catch the wind and fly through clouds
it's this i know i'd love
over time i'd see the world
going where i choose
america,russia japan or china
there's no way i can loose
at night i'd roost and watch the moon
then curl under my wing
every day it's some place new
no wonder birds all sing.


I was about 13 when i wrote this... i've wrote a few others soon after but nothing else for years...

Ooey Gooey, Author Unknown

Ooey Gooey was a worm,
a mighty worm was he,
he stepped upon the railroad tracks,
the train he did not see.
Ooey Gooey.

Four and twenty virgins came down from Inverness
When they went back in the morning there were four and twenty less.

It's part of a rugby song and it reminds me of my youth (not that I ever met a virgin from Inverness - Not Guilty M'Lud).

За лесами, за морями,
За высокими горами,
Против неба, на земле,
Жил старик в одном селе.

Etc... it's an old Russian children's book called "the Humpbacked Horse" written entirely in verse. I know about one third of it -- it's one of the first books I ever learned how to read.

A little birdy with a yellow bill
perched upon my window sill
I lured him in with crumbs of bread
and bashed him on his crummy head

I learned it from Al Sherman (if anyone remembers him)

I've never seen a purple cow.
I never hope to see one.
But when it comes to purple cows,
I'd rather see than be one.

I laugh every time I think of this...
These are from "The Man With Two Brains", a Steve Martin movie from 1982. If you haven't seen that movie, I highly recommend it!

Steve Martin's character (Dr. Michael Hfuhruhurr) says that these are the poems of "John Lillison, England's Greatest One-Armed Poet"
--------------------------------------
"Pointy Birds"

O pointy birds, o pointy pointy,
Anoint my head, anointy-nointy

---------------------------------------------
"In Dillman's Grove"

In Dillman's Grove, our love did die,
And now in ground shall ever lie.
None could e'er replace her visage,
Until your face brought thoughts of kissage.

--------------------------------------------
Yes yes, I'm sure these were just made up by Steve Martin ... but they make me laugh...

http://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/The_Man_with_Two_Brains
http://www.goer.org/HTML/examples/htmlhorror1.txt

As I sit up, late at night,
This is the poem I do write,
Only to you it may be,
For my love to see.

My head spins as I think of this,
The way in which we kiss,
My arms, around your waist,
Leaves my head, feelings spaced.

As I wonder, so may you,
Why I feel, the way I do,
From inside the feelings comes,
With the beat, of pounding drums.

What is it? I used to ponder,
For hours I would wander,
Then one day I figured it out,
I said to myself in almost a shout.

It must be love that I do feel,
And now I know that it is real,
Then my thoughts would turn to you,
Nothing but sincere and true.

So when I hear your voice,
It is all but my choice,
When my eyes start to glow,
And a smile begins to show.

When I hold you tight and strong,
Nothing ever could go wrong,
My joy of you is all there shall be,
For you are the one, who holds the key.

To where the key goes, you may ask,
Hidden away, under life's mask,
The most precious part of me,
To which you hold the key.

My heart does open up to you,
For it opens wide and true,
To you it sings and prays,
I am your for all the days.

And I remembered this poem because I wrote it for my girlfriend and I love it :)
+5

The more you read, the more you know,
The more you know, the smarter you grow.
The smarter you grow, the stronger your voice.
when speaking your mind or making your choice.

I have no idea what it is called, I dont even think it has a title. I had to memorize for school!!!!!!!!

When I was 8 or 9, for our school program, I recited "A Visit from Saint Nicholas," (o/w known as "T'was the Night Before Christmas") but I doubt I could do it today without a little prompting. It was a great, confidence-boosting event in my little life.

Odi Et Amo (I hate and I love) by Catullus. It's nearly 2000 years old and still fantastic!

I can recite a 28 verse poem my mum taught me when i was a little girl :-). Too long to write it all down but its about a husband that puts his wife of a diet and she gets so thin she slips down the plug hole in the bath and gets swept to sea lol
Ironically i can't remember its name :-/

But in all seriousness I did memorize "The Spider and the Fly" by Mary Howitt

The Spider and the Fly
Mary Howitt


Will you walk into my parlour?" said the Spider to the Fly,
'Tis the prettiest little parlour that ever you did spy;
The way into my parlour is up a winding stair,
And I've a many curious things to shew when you are there."
Oh no, no," said the little Fly, "to ask me is in vain,
For who goes up your winding stair can ne'er come down again."


"I'm sure you must be weary, dear, with soaring up so high;
Will you rest upon my little bed?" said the Spider to the Fly.
"There are pretty curtains drawn around; the sheets are fine and thin,
And if you like to rest awhile, I'll snugly tuck you in!"
Oh no, no," said the little Fly, "for I've often heard it said,
They never, never wake again, who sleep upon your bed!"


Said the cunning Spider to the Fly, " Dear friend what can I do,
To prove the warm affection I 've always felt for you?
I have within my pantry, good store of all that's nice;
I'm sure you're very welcome -- will you please to take a slice?"
"Oh no, no," said the little Fly, "kind Sir, that cannot be,
I've heard what's in your pantry, and I do not wish to see!"


"Sweet creature!" said the Spider, "you're witty and you're wise,
How handsome are your gauzy wings, how brilliant are your eyes!
I've a little looking-glass upon my parlour shelf,
If you'll step in one moment, dear, you shall behold yourself."
"I thank you, gentle sir," she said, "for what you 're pleased to say,
And bidding you good morning now, I'll call another day."


The Spider turned him round about, and went into his den,
For well he knew the silly Fly would soon come back again:
So he wove a subtle web, in a little corner sly,
And set his table ready, to dine upon the Fly.
Then he came out to his door again, and merrily did sing,
"Come hither, hither, pretty Fly, with the pearl and silver wing;
Your robes are green and purple -- there's a crest upon your head;
Your eyes are like the diamond bright, but mine are dull as lead!"

Alas, alas! how very soon this silly little Fly,
Hearing his wily, flattering words, came slowly flitting by;
With buzzing wings she hung aloft, then near and nearer drew,
Thinking only of her brilliant eyes, and green and purple hue --
Thinking only of her crested head -- poor foolish thing! At last,
Up jumped the cunning Spider, and fiercely held her fast.
He dragged her up his winding stair, into his dismal den,
Within his little parlour -- but she ne'er came out again!


And now dear little children, who may this story read,
To idle, silly flattering words, I pray you ne'er give heed:
Unto an evil counsellor, close heart and ear and eye,
And take a lesson from this tale, of the Spider and the Fly.

The Crayon Box That Talked

While walking into a toy store the day before today
I overheard a crayon box with many things to say

"I don't like Red!" said Yellow and Green said "Nor do I"
"And no one here likes Orange but no one knows just why"

"We are a box of crayons that doesn't get along
Said Blue to all the others "Something here is wrong"

Well, I bought that box of crayons and took it home with me
And laid out all the colors so the crayons all could see

They watched me as I colored with Red and Blue and Green
And Black and White and Orange and every color in between

They watched as Green became the grass and Blue became the sky
The Yellow sun was shining bright on White clouds drifting by

Colors changing as they touched becoming something new
They watched me as I colored - they watched me till I was through

And when I finally finished I began to walk away
And as I did the crayon box had something more to say

"I do like Red!" said Yellow and Green said, "so do I"
And Blue you were terrific! So high up in the sky

"We are a box of crayons each one of us unique
But when we get together the picture is more complete"


http://www.skywriting.net/inspirational/poems/the_crayon_box_that_talked.html

"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 have put away my labor and my leisure too.
For his civility..."

It's "Because I could not stop for Death" by Emily Dickinson.

I just remember those two stanzas.

I really love that poem, it is so beautiful.
It speaks about death in a gentle and respectful manner.

Sonnet 18, by Shakespeare. It was the first thing my first drama teacher had the class memorize, and it's stuck with me.

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate.
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date.
Sometimes too hot the eye of heaven shines
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd.
And every fair from fair some time declines,
By chance, or nature's changing course untrimm'd.
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st.
Nor shall death brag, thou wonder'st in his shade
When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st.
So long as men can breathe and eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

Two pieces. First by Shakespeare, from R&J:

O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright!
It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night
Like a rich jewel in an Ethiope's ear;
Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear!
So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows,
As yonder lady o'er her fellows shows.
The measure done, I'll watch her place of stand,
And, touching hers, make blessed my rude hand.
Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight!
For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night.
-------------------------------------------
I've always loved Shakespeare's writing, and this was the first peice that actually moved me.

~AND~

Ogden Nash

Billy in one of his bright new sashes
fell in the fire and was burnt to ashes
and now although the room grows chilly
I haven't the heart to poke poor Billy.
--------------------------------------
Sick, yes, but it always makes me smile.

A.A. Milne- Excerpt from "Us Two"
Wherever I am, there's always Pooh,
There's always Pooh and Me.
Whatever I do, he wants to do,
"Where are you going today" says Pooh:
"Well, that's very odd cos I was too.
Let's go together," says Pooh, says he.
"Let's go together," says Pooh.

I liked this poem because Christopher Robin's voice is too cute. Just take a sec and listen. :)
http://encarta.msn.com/media_461535482/A_A_Milne.html

Yes, In Flanders Fields by John McCrae. It's important to me as a reminder of what humans never seem to learn from history and as a tribute to some very special people.
Here's a link to not only the poem in full, but it's historical context.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/In_Flanders_Fields

It's a french poem from Pierre de Ronsard, telling a girl he is in love with that he... basically wants to make it with her because she will grow old quick and that youth passes by...

Mignonne, allons voir si la rose
Qui ce matin avait déclose
Sa robe de pourpre au soleil,
A point perdu cette vesprée
Les plis de sa robe pourprée,
Et son teint au vôtre pareil.
Las! voyez comme en peu d'espace,
Mignonne, elle a dessus la place,
Las, las ses beautés laissé choir!
O vraiment marâtre Nature,
Puisqu'une telle fleur ne dure
Que du matin jusques au soir
Donc, si vous me croyez, mignonne,
Tandis que votre âge fleuronne
En sa plus verte nouveauté,
Cueillez, cueillez votre jeunesse:
Comme à cette fleur, la vieillesse
Fera ternir votre beauté.

I know it because I had those french class in high school and we had to remember it for an exam.

Excerpts from The Congo

Fat black bucks in a wine-barrelled room,
Barrel house kings with feet unstable,
Sagged and reeled and pounded on the table,
Hard as they were able,
To the tune of Boom-lay, Boom-lay, Boom-lay Boom.

Then I saw the Congo cutting through the black,
Cutting thru the jungle like a golden track.

And al;ong that riverbank a thousand miles,
Tattooed pigmies danced in files,
To the Tune of Boom-lay, Boom-lay, Boom-lay Boom.

- Vachel Lindsay

    Whose woods are these, I think I know.
    His house is in the village, though.
    He will not see me stopping here…
    To watch his woods fill up with snow.
   
    My little horse must think it queer…
    To stop without a farmhouse near…
    Between the woods and frozen lake…
    The darkest evening of the year.
   
    He gives his harness bells a shake…
    To ask if there is some mistake.
    The only other sound's the sweep…
    Of easy wind and downly flake.
   
    The woods are lovely, dark and deep…
    But I have promises to keep…
    And miles to go before I sleep…
    And miles to go before I sleep.

— “Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening” by Robert Frost —

  In a class I took many, many years ago, I was exposed to two Robert Frost poems, which I found worthy of memorizing.  Now, however much later it is I had to cheat and look this up only because of one line that I couldn't quite remember.  Other than “Of easy wind and downly flake” this is all from memory.  Let's see if I can remember the other one now, titled “The Road Less Traveled”:

    Two roads diverged in a yellow wood…
    And sorry I could not travel both…
    And be one traveller, long I stood…
    And looked down one as long as I could…
    To where it bent in the undergrowth.
   
    Then took the other as just as fair…
    And having, perhaps, the better claim…
    Because it was grassy and wanted wear…
    Though as for that the passing there…
    Had worn them really about the same.
   
    And both that morning equally lay…
    In leaves no step had trodden black.
    Oh, I kept the first for another day…
    Yet knowing how way leads on to way…
    I doubted if I should ever go back.
   
    I shall be telling it with a sigh…
    Somewhere ages and ages hence…
    Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
    I took the one less traveled by…
    And that has made all the difference.

  I had a more difficult time remember this one.  I stalled completely after the second verse, and had to look it up to find the first line of the third verse.  Once I had that line, the rest came back to me without my having to read it again.

The only one I can do from memory all the way through is Phillip Larkin "This Be The Verse" and I have no idea why I remember it, maybe something subconcious?

"they f*ck you up your mum and dad
they may not mean to but they do
they fill you with the faults they had
and add some extra just for you

But they were f*cked up in their turn
By fools in old style hats and coats
Who half the time were soppy stern
And half at one another's throats

Man hands on misery to man
It deepens like a coastal shelf
So get out early as you can
And don't have any kids yourself."


I also like this, though I haven't memorised it!:

http://www.tfl.gov.uk/tube/arts/poems/poem.asp?DID=126

One bright morning in the middle of the night,
Two dead boys got up to fight.
Back to back they faced each other,
Drew their swords and shot each other.
A deaf policeman heard the noise,
Came and killed those two dead boys.
If you don't believe this lie is true,
Just ask the blind man. He saw it too.

I remember it because I find it amusing.

There once was a man from Dorum,
He bought a pair of pants
and he wore 'em

He stooped, then he laughed
as he felt a great draft,
then he knew where he tore 'em.

This reminds me of my Grandpa Dearing..
If he saw us watching him when he was bending
down and he had a little old age pain with it
or a little old age groaning noise..
He used to make us laugh with this poem.

was by Robert Frost...can't remember all of it now.

The woods are dreary dark and deep
And i have miles before i sleep...

i used to know all of it, for almost 40 years. sigh, middle age memory loss...lol

Indians scattered on Dawns Highway bleeding
Ghosts crown the young child's fragile egg-shell mind

that is used in the Peace Frogs by the doors and is in Jim Morrison's WILDERNESS a book of his poetry and writings

its called FISH i cant remember who wrote it i learnt it in school shortest poem i ever heard it goes OH WET PET and thats it short and sweet

yup. it's called 'Thieves in my bedroom.' i guess because i am a thief.

A boy died in my alley
without my having known
policeman said next morning "apparently died alone."
"You hear a shot?" policeman said.
Shots I hear and shots I hear. I never see the dead.
The shot that killed him, yes I hears, as I heard the thousand shots before
Careening tinnily down the nights
Across my years and arteries
Policeman pounding at my door.
Who is it?
"Police!" policeman said
"A boy is dying in your alley."
"A boy is dead and in your alley,"
"And have you known this boy before?"
"I have known this boy before,
I have known this boy before
I never saw his face at all
I never saw his future fall, but I have known this boy.

I have always heard him deal with death
I have always heard the shot, the volley
I have closed my heart ears late and early
and I have killed him ever.

I joined the Wild and killed him
with knowledgeable unknowing
I saw him crossed and seeing, I did not take him down.

He cried not only "Mother!" but "Father, sister brother!"
The cry climbed up the alley
It rose up to the wind
It hung upon the heavens for a long stretch-strain of moment.

The red floor of my alley is a special speech to me.

Phew. I didn't remember that whole thing from memory--only got so far as "policeman pounded at my door." I memorized this poem for a speech tournament. A small white girl from rural Indiana. I was in 7th grade. I am not sure what made me choose this poem then but I still love it now. Powerful words.