what is the meaning  of the poem, "Oranges and lemons, say the bell of St.Clement's"?
444922
It represents Wilson's only link (besides the paperweight) to the England that used to exist. The book describes how each of the churches in the ryhme is now either destroyed or converted into something evil.
1001630
Here is a poem that expresses the idea. The phrase is Cajun and comes from Louisiana and the reference here is to Hurricane Katrina that devastated New Orleans.\n\nLaissez les bons temps rouler!\n    \nWhen death and suffering's around \nAnd there is no one to call, \nThere's still a sign of life that's found \nWithin these silent streets and walls. \n\nThe government can screw the poor \nBut it can never kill their soul, \nThere is a spirit bright and pure - \nZydeco, Cajun and Creole.\n\nYou cannot kill the Crescent City \nWith contracts that would turn it all \nInto a suburb looking pretty \nWith condos and big shopping malls.\n\nLet them pour billions on construction \nTo ease the guilt of those who sold \nThe city's poor to face destruction \nExacted by Katrina's toll.\n\nAnd when the streets are filled with laughter, \nWith jazz and blues to lift the soul, \nForget their phony hereafter - \nJust live and let the good times roll! \n\nSeptember 16,2005 \n\nAlexander Shaumyan
557980
Nursery Rhymes are poems.\n\nHickory Dickory Dock ( reason - clock struck one mouse ran down)\nGrand Old duke of York ( well what would you do with 10,000 men - invade Iraq?)\nWee Willie Winkie ( insomnia)\nJack and Jill ( water gathering)\nOld King Cole ( merry because of the music)\nThis Little Piggy ( contributing to the economy by going to market)\nLittle Boy Blue ( Farming associate)\nGeorgie Porgie ( paedophile?)
945563
The christmas eve of 1836 me and my maid. Phylosopic Delirium\n\nNumber 24 is fatal for me, if I needed to try it I would say that I was born on the 24th. Twelve times a year is day, although, im supersticious. cause a man´s heart needs to believe in somethingand he believes lies when there´s no truths to believe. Thats why, with out a doubt the lovers believe the married and the little towns to their idols, to their goverments and one of my supersticions is to believe that theres no a good day 24th. the day 23th is on my calendar a call to the pain and to the imitation of that rusian chief policeman who order to have ready the bombs before the fire happens, thats why i prevent myself since the 23 day, to the next day of pain and suffer and before twelve in the clock I don´t even take a glass with my hand so I don´t broke it, and I don´t point letter so i don´t lose it and i don´t try to make a women to fall in love with me cause i don´t want her to tell me yes, cause if we get to the point of talking of love i have another supersticion: i imagine that the worst misfortune that could happen to a men, is that a woman tell him that she loves him. if you don´t believe it, is a torment and if you believe it: ¡ lucky one the one whom the woman says that she doesnt want himm, cause at leas that one listen the truth!\n\nThe last 23 of the year 1836 just finish, with my pendulum showing and because of that on my supersticious principles, I was bended waiting for the rain and without sleep. I stay like that a lot of hours at night, longer for the lonely awake that a civil war; til´morning finally comes with steps of intervention, i mean, really slowly, to paint with purple and pink color the courtains of my stay.\n\nThe day before that one, was gorgeous, and i dont why my heart was telling that the day 24th it was going to be day of water. it was even worst, it was snowing. i look the thermometer and it marks a lot of under zero degrees; just like the State´s credit.\n\nI was so convince that i wasn´t going to move myself because i need to do it all the luck of the month, i bend my forhead, heave just like the sky with the cold clouds, and i stand my elbows on the table and i just standby that everyone could say i was a public writer in time of free expresion, or maybe a national military, staying ther by appointment waiting for an exercise. Now I was drifting my look all over the multitud of articules and papers that are there since six months ago without finish it just started over my desk, and just the titles are there, just like those vault on the cemetery that doesn´t wait for anything else than a corpse, exact comparation, cause in each article I buried all hope and ilusion. now i turn my eyes to the my balcony´s window, i saw them misted and just like if they were crying in the inside; the condensated vapor it was sliding like tears on the window; and just like that drop by drop tears fall down all over the heart. the ones who sees the windows from outside they saw it clean and shining; the one´s who sees just the faces, they see them happy and quiet.\n\nI will make a favor to my reader from the more of my meditation; there´s not enough newspapers in Madrid, in that case there not enough reader ethier. lucky one the one who have an office, lucky one the employee, that even with out a salary or with out collect it is just the same one. at least hes not forced to think, he can smoke and he can read the gazette.\n\n¡Four o´clock! ¡Lunch! - told me the voice from a maid, a quite and submissive voice, in the man that serves, even the voice sounds like wants to ask for permission.\n\nI TRY!!!\nHOPE IT WORKS!!
427712
The full rhyme is \nSomething old, something new \nSomething borrowed, something blue \nAnd a silver sixpence in her shoe. \n\nEach item in this poem represents a good-luck token for the bride. If she carries all of them on her wedding day, her marriage will be happy. "Something old" symbolizes continuity with the bride's family and the past. "Something new" means optimism and hope for the bride's new life ahead. "Something borrowed" is usually an item from a happily married friend or family member, whose good fortune in marriage is supposed to carry over to the new bride. The borrowed item also reminds the bride that she can depend on her friends and family. \n\nAs for the colorful item, blue has been connected to weddings for centuries. In ancient Rome, brides wore blue to symbolize love, modesty, and fidelity. Christianity has long dressed the Virgin Mary in blue, so purity was associated with the color. Before the late 19th century, blue was a popular color for wedding gowns, as evidenced in proverbs like, "Marry in blue, lover be true."
296590
Oh Bird of paper!\nEagle of the children.\nWith the pens of letters,\nwithout a dove\nand without nest.\n\nThe hands still wet of mystery\nthey create to you in a cold\nto grow dark of autumn, when they die\nthe birds and the noise\nof rain it makes us love the lamp,\nthe heart and the book.\n\nYou are born to live minutes\nin the fragile castle\nof naipes that rises trembly\nas the stem of an iris.\nand you meditate there blinds and without wings\nthat you could have been\nthe grotesco athlete who smiles\nhanged person by a thread,\nthe quiet boat without rowers nor sails,\nthe lírico\nghost ship of the miedoso insect,\nor the sad donkey\nthat they escarnecen, making it the Pegaso,\nthe blowings of the children.\n\nBut in the middle of your meditation\ndrops of humorismo go.\nDone with the crust of science\nyou ***reflx mng yourself of Destino,\nand outcries: "White Flower never dies,\nnor Luisito dies.\nThe morning is eternal, is eternal\nthe source of the dew "\n\nAnd although you do not believe in anything you say this,\nthe children do not find out\nof which there is shade behind stars\nand it shades in your castle.\n\nIn the middle of the table, when collapsing\nyour blue mansion, you have seen\nthat the milano watches to you anxiously:\n"new born.\na foam pomp on the water\nof the alive suffering "\n\nAnd you go to his luminous lips\nwhile the children laugh,\nand the papas shut up, do not awake\nthe neighboring pains.\n\nThus bird clown you disappear\nin order to be born elsewhere.\nThus bird esfinge gives your soul\nof bird fénix to the limb.
117904
ooo...thats my favorite poem forever...\n\n\nill explain it to you myself...\n\n\nHOW DO I LOVE THEE LET ME COUNT THE WAYS\n\nit means...that of course the author loves the person so much..\n\n\nI LOVE THEE TO THE DEPTH AND BREADTH AND HEIGHT\n\n\nit means the love is unmeasurablew\n\n\nMY SOUL CAN REACH WHEN FEELING OUT OF SIGHT\n\ni believe this is a forecast...i mean...about death...signposting the last line\n\n\nFOR THE ENDS OF BEING AND IDEAL GRACE\n\nheaven...or god and death...\n\nI LOVE THEE TO THE LEVEL OF EVERYDAY'S\nMOST QUIET NEED BY SUN AND CANDLELIGHT\n\nit means that the love she has for robert is already a need...something she doesnt' display...but something personal...she needs it day and night\n\n\nI LOVE THEE FREELY AS MEN STRIVE FOR RIGHT\n\nfreely - no restrictions...men strive for right because they want to...because they are fre\n\nI LOVE THEE PURELY AS THEY TURN FROM PRAISE\n\npurely - no other reasons to love but simply love alone...no sexual thoughts, no money ...no whatever...they turn from praise because they strive for right because they want to - not for any other reason\n\n\nI LOVE THEE WITH THE PASSION PUT TO USE\nIN MY OLD GRIEFS AND WITH MY CHILDHOOD"S FAITH\n\nelizabeth was an invalid...and that gives her griefs...and the faith that one day she would be well...and the passion there...is the passion she is using for her love for robert\n\n\nI LOVE THEE WITH THE LOVE I SEEMED TO LOSE\nWITH MY LOST SAINTS\n\nlost saints - what she has been trying to look for...she lost the "lvoe" when she had her accident...she found it in robert\n\n   I LOVE THEE WITH THE BREATH\nSMILES, TEARS OF ALL MY LIFE\n\n\nwell..this means...she lives for him...through good and bad times\n\n\n    AND IF GOD CHOOSE\nI SHALL BUT LOVE THEE BETTER AFTER DEATH\n\n\n.....death is not strong enough to hinder her love for robert..\n\n\ni hope i was of help\n\n\nit's my favorite poem\n\ni love it...\n\n\n\n\njust feel it...relate it with yourself\n\n\nafter all, have you ever been in love?
953155
It's from an old Nursery Rhyme\n\nLittle Jack Horner\nSat in a corner\nEating his Christmas pie\nHe put in his thumb\nAnd pulled out a plum\nAnd said" What a good boy am I!"\n\nNow, having said that I couldn't begin to tell you if it has any underlying meaning!\n\nHere's a link to a theory on the "back story"\nhttp://www.rooneydesign.com/JackHorner.html\n\nAnd here's yet another link:\n\nhttp://www.rhymes.org.uk/little_jack_horner.htm\n\nAnd finally dear old wikipedia has a bunch of alternative rhymes that are quite amusing:\n\nhttp://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Little_Jack_Horner
319153
<1> Easter\n\nHeavenly Father and God of mercy, I believe that Jesus is alive and has become the Lord of life.  From the waters of Baptism you have raised me with him and renewed you gift of life within me.  Increase in my mind and heart the risen life I share with Christ and help me to grow in your wisdom and grace.\n\nLord Jesus, you appeared to your apostles after the resurrection and filed their hearts with joy when you said to them "Peace be with you".May the peace of your presence abide with me and make each day you give me the most beautiful day of my life.\n\nLord Jesus, you triumphed over death and destroyed the power of death in me, may I live only for you.\n\nRisen Lord, you brought confusion on the guards at your tomb but joy to your diciples, grant me the fullness of joy as I serve you in spirit and truth.\n\nYou promised to be with your disciples, Lord, to the end of the world, stay with me today and remain with me always.\n\nKing of Glory, center of my lift, grant that when you come again,I may be one with you in glory.\n\nLord, remember me as in my own way I ninister to your people, may my life be holy an an example to your people.\n\nLord Jesus, purify my heart with you truth and guide me in the way of holiness, so that I may always do what is pleasing in your sight.\n\n<2>  Easter \nI got me flowers to staw Thy way,\nI got me boughs off many a tree;\nBut Thou was up by break of day,\nAnd brought'st Thy sweets along with Thee.\n\nYet through my flowers be lost, they say\nA heart can never come too late;\nTeach it to sing Thy praise this day, \nAnd then this day my life shall date.
949527
It is actually from a Lord Alfred Tennyson poem who was England's Poet Laureate after Wordsworth. \n\nFrom Alfred Lord Tennyson's poem 'In Memoriam:27', 1850:\n\n    I hold it true, whate'er befall;\n    I feel it, when I sorrow most;\n    'Tis better to have loved and lost\n    Than never to have loved at all.\n\n\nTennyson married, but I guess that doesn't give us a clear indication if he ever actually found love.
442843
"Once in an ancient city, whose name I no longer remember,\nRaised aloft on a column, a brazen statute of Justice\nStood in the public square, upholding the scales in its left hand,\nAnd in its right a sword, as an emblem that justice presided\nOver the laws of the land, and the hearts and homes of the people.      310\nEven the birds had built their nests in the scales of the balance,\nHaving no fear of the sword that flashed in the sunshine above them.\nBut in the course of time the laws of the land were corrupted;\nMight took the place of right, and the weak were oppressed, and the mighty\nRuled with an iron rod. Then it chanced in a nobleman's palace          315\nThat a necklace of pearls was lost, and ere long a suspicion\nFell on an orphan girl who lived as maid in the household.\nShe, after form of trial condemned to die on the scaffold,\nPatiently met her doom at the foot of the statue of Justice.\nAs to her Father in heaven her innocent spirit ascended,                320\nLo! o'er the city a tempest rose; and the bolts of the thunder\nSmote the statue of bronze, and hurled in wrath from its left hand\nDown on the pavement below the clattering scales of the balance,\nAnd in the hollow thereof was found the nest of a magpie,\nInto whose clay-built walls the necklace of pearls was inwoven."
606146
"abyssus est alius populus" - Jean-Paul Sartre\n\nIt means “hell is for other people”.
129860
The poem is talking about the futility and uselessness of war.  The bitter irony is that comrades and the enemy are for the most part ordinary people, not that different from each other.  If he met one of each on the street, he could not tell which is which.  The soldier chose to fight, no one forced him to, and in his last moments he is questioning the sense of that decision.   He realizes that in the end this fighting and sacrifice is not going to change much for the ordinary person, so in many ways it is a waste, a waste of life.  He can't turn back the clock, and his destiny awaits him in "the clouds", heaven, the afterlife.\n\nI hope this helps.
659808
The text is from "The New Colossus," a poem by Emma Lazarus:\n\nThe New Colossus \n\nNot like the brazen giant of Greek fame,\nWith conquering limbs astride from land to land;\nHere at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand\nA mighty woman with a torch, whose flame\nIs the imprisoned lightning, and her name\nMother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand\nGlows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command\nThe air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.\n"Keep ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she\nWith silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor,\nYour huddled masses yearning to breathe free,\nThe wretched refuse of your teeming shore.\nSend these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,\nI lift my lamp beside the golden door!"
205327
The trumpet of a prophecy! O Wind,   \nIf Winter comes, can Spring be far behind? \n\nIMHO\nPrehaps it is a statement about the inevitable cycle of change, birth and rebirth, life-death and then life.
755557
This poem, like many of Blake's works, is simple and childlike, but its meaning is profound.  In many of his poems he uses symbols, and we are left to interpret the meaning.  To me this poem is about empathy and sharing the grief of others.  In today's world people may think that God has forsaken us, but in our time of greatest need he is there beside us, sharing our grief and giving us the inner strength we will need to cope with it.   We need to look beyond what the mortal eyes can see and not be misled by our superficial perception of reality.   To Blake God is not an abstract idea, but a real entity\n\nPerhaps another poem, Footprints, is a good commentary on this one of William Blake's.\n\nIf you do a YA search for William Blake you will find more than 30 questions about him and his poetry.  You may find helpful information there.
511913
this was a phrase of a song sung by slaves. they prayed for\nthe speedy advent of the day when they would go to heaven, where they would be human again.