Your favourite poems that you learned at school

"The Wayfarer"

By P.H.Pearse

The last poem he wrote before being executed

Fleas

Adam had 'em

If I were a Lady by Percy French...........I learned it in 2nd class!

Over 20 years ago and I still remember it and I do say it at parties for the craic!

If you've lost your Dad....very poignant...

Funeral Blues....WH Auden.

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

Beans, beans, they're good for your heart
The more you eat, the more you fart
The more you fart, the more you eat
The more you sit on the toilet seat

There was a girl from Madrid,
who thought she had never been rid,
along came an Italian,
with balls like a stallion,
and rode her like billy the kid.

Mary had a little sheep,
and with that sheep,
she went to sleep,
the sheep turned out to be a ram,
and Mary had a little lamb!

How do I remember this! :rolleyes:

Mid Term Break- Seamus Heaney

soooooooooooome poem.

I sat all morning in the college sick bay
Counting bells knelling classes to a close.
At two o'clock our neighbors drove me home.

In the porch I met my father crying--
He had always taken funerals in his stride--
And Big Jim Evans saying it was a hard blow.

The baby cooed and laughed and rocked the pram
When I came in, and I was embarrassed
By old men standing up to shake my hand

And tell me they were "sorry for my trouble,"
Whispers informed strangers I was the eldest,
Away at school, as my mother held my hand

In hers and coughed out angry tearless sighs.
At ten o'clock the ambulance arrived
With the corpse, stanched and bandaged by the nurses.

Next morning I went up into the room. Snowdrops
And candles soothed the bedside; I saw him
For the first time in six weeks. Paler now,

Wearing a poppy bruise on his left temple,
He lay in the four foot box as in his cot.
No gaudy scars, the bumper knocked him clear.

A four foot box, a foot for every year.

Wordsworth- Composed Upon Westminster Bridge

EARTH has not anything to show more fair:
Dull would he be of soul who could pass by
A sight so touching in its majesty:
This City now doth, like a garment, wear
The beauty of the morning; silent, bare,
Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie
Open unto the fields, and to the sky;
All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.
Never did sun more beautifully steep
In his first splendour, valley, rock, or hill;
Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep!
The river glideth at his own sweet will:
Dear God! the very houses seem asleep;
And all that mighty heart is lying still!

Roses are red Violets are blue
some poems ryhme...
but this one doesn't

see the problem is all the poetry on the Irish school curriculum, bar maybe one or two, is complete and utter shÎte. It's only when I left school I really began to appreciate poetry.

Please for the love of good art look up PAT INGOLDSBY (Irish guy, sells his books near trinity college), EDGAR ALLAN POE, Voltaire, MARK TWAIN and so many others I can't recall right now.

They're out their and they make poetry good, not the pussy tripe you read in school.

I remember a poem I learned in first year called 4C Boy about a special needs kid that the author & other classmates bullied and then he died. He had plastic glasses and ears that stuck out like pieces of pink plasticine. Can't remember how it goes....

Dip dip
Dog sh!t
You are
Not it.


My mother and your mother
Were hanging out the cloths
My mother gave your mother
A box in the nose
What Colour was the blood
***** spells blood you are it