The next poet was very popular in his time (1910s). All the other poets in the group found him very amicable and were very fond of him. He had previously written rather like Tennyson, but then decided to branch out into more vernacular poetry.
Apparently the poem 'The Golden Room' depicts the group together of an evening, which I think would be a lovely poem to look at, but alas I cannot find a free version online. Do please look into it if you are interested, however, (and tell me if you can find a free version!).
One poem which exemplifies the colloquial style is 'Nightmare', which is beautifully concise (as are most of his poems, as far as I can see) , so I would recommend that one as well.
Today, however, we are looking at
Hit
Out of the sparkling sea
I drew my tingling body clear, and lay
On a low ledge the livelong summer day,
Basking, and watching lazily
White sails in Falmouth Bay.
My body seemed to burn
Salt in the sun that drenched it through and through,
Till every particle glowed clean and new
And slowly seemed to turn
To lucent amber in a world of blue . . .
I felt a sudden wrench—
A trickle of warm blood—
And found that I was sprawling in the mud
Among the dead men in the trench.
This poem encapsulates so much of the trauma of war. From the beginning denial and wish to be in a better place, to the final realisation of war which always haunts soldiers, Gibson has managed to write a poem that captures the internal conflict of the individual soldier rather than the outward conflict of the war.
Without the title's suggestion of battle, the poem starts as any other nature poem would, praising the relaxation which is found is natural surroundings, perhaps on a holiday, ironically a much more peaceful type of travel than that of war campaigns.
Apparently, when a person is shot, the first thing they feel is nothing, especially if you do not know that you have been shot. The reactions that we see on TV and film are in fact learnt reactions, from watching people react in such a way. Thus, the narrator talks of a 'tingling' first, and then a 'burning', although these both at first appear to be but the effects of a hot sun on the beach.
The third stanza disrupts the previous two. The ellipsis has led the reader to imagine the narrator as dreaming, perhaps, relaxing as he wishes. But then the 'sudden wrench' changes the perspective, and the title of the poem is remembered, almost with a pang of guilt rom the reader, who has been drawn in by an innocent and happy vision, when they were warned of the dangerous setting before. Even the five-line structure is changed, with four lines suggesting that the end for the narrator has come too soon. The different chiastic rhyme mimics how he is surrounded by 'the dead men', whom he is now to join.
It seems that Gibson is rather good at jolting the reader's attention away from an assumption and into a harsh reality, which I think is one of my favourite things about a poem, or any story.
Apparently the poem 'The Golden Room' depicts the group together of an evening, which I think would be a lovely poem to look at, but alas I cannot find a free version online. Do please look into it if you are interested, however, (and tell me if you can find a free version!).
One poem which exemplifies the colloquial style is 'Nightmare', which is beautifully concise (as are most of his poems, as far as I can see) , so I would recommend that one as well.
Today, however, we are looking at
Hit
Out of the sparkling sea
I drew my tingling body clear, and lay
On a low ledge the livelong summer day,
Basking, and watching lazily
White sails in Falmouth Bay.
My body seemed to burn
Salt in the sun that drenched it through and through,
Till every particle glowed clean and new
And slowly seemed to turn
To lucent amber in a world of blue . . .
I felt a sudden wrench—
A trickle of warm blood—
And found that I was sprawling in the mud
Among the dead men in the trench.
This poem encapsulates so much of the trauma of war. From the beginning denial and wish to be in a better place, to the final realisation of war which always haunts soldiers, Gibson has managed to write a poem that captures the internal conflict of the individual soldier rather than the outward conflict of the war.
Without the title's suggestion of battle, the poem starts as any other nature poem would, praising the relaxation which is found is natural surroundings, perhaps on a holiday, ironically a much more peaceful type of travel than that of war campaigns.
Apparently, when a person is shot, the first thing they feel is nothing, especially if you do not know that you have been shot. The reactions that we see on TV and film are in fact learnt reactions, from watching people react in such a way. Thus, the narrator talks of a 'tingling' first, and then a 'burning', although these both at first appear to be but the effects of a hot sun on the beach.
The third stanza disrupts the previous two. The ellipsis has led the reader to imagine the narrator as dreaming, perhaps, relaxing as he wishes. But then the 'sudden wrench' changes the perspective, and the title of the poem is remembered, almost with a pang of guilt rom the reader, who has been drawn in by an innocent and happy vision, when they were warned of the dangerous setting before. Even the five-line structure is changed, with four lines suggesting that the end for the narrator has come too soon. The different chiastic rhyme mimics how he is surrounded by 'the dead men', whom he is now to join.
It seems that Gibson is rather good at jolting the reader's attention away from an assumption and into a harsh reality, which I think is one of my favourite things about a poem, or any story.
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