Conformity/Rebellion Poem-- Haley Longworth

Do not go gentle into that good night By Dylan Thomas Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Though wise men at their end know dark is right, Because their words had forked no lightning they Do not go gentle into that good night. Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay, Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight, And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way, Do not go gentle into that good night. Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay, Rage, rage against the dying of the light. And you, my father, there on the sad height, Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray. Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light. "Poetry is man's rebellion against what he is." It is inevitable that humans die and our lives end, but it is not something a lot of people want to think about because it is hard to comprehend. This poem written by Dylan Thomas expresses the fear we have of death and how urgently we want to fight it. He is rebelling against man and the cycles of our lives through his poem, saying "do not go gentle into that good night" and "rage, rage against the dying of the light." Also, by the last stanza we, as the audience, can tell that his father is near to death and he is begging him do keep on living and fight for a little longer because he doesn't want to see him go. It will always be a part of human nature to die, but it is not something we feel comfortable about.

Will Atkins-Rebellion

The Collar

The Collar

By George Herbert 1593–1633 George Herbert

I struck the board, and cried, "No more;

                         I will abroad!

What? shall I ever sigh and pine?

My lines and life are free, free as the road,

Loose as the wind, as large as store.

          Shall I be still in suit?

Have I no harvest but a thorn

To let me blood, and not restore

What I have lost with cordial fruit?

          Sure there was wine

Before my sighs did dry it; there was corn

    Before my tears did drown it.

      Is the year only lost to me?

          Have I no bays to crown it,

No flowers, no garlands gay? All blasted?

                  All wasted?

Not so, my heart; but there is fruit,

            And thou hast hands.

Recover all thy sigh-blown age

On double pleasures: leave thy cold dispute

Of what is fit and not. Forsake thy cage,

             Thy rope of sands,

Which petty thoughts have made, and made to thee

Good cable, to enforce and draw,

          And be thy law,

While thou didst wink and wouldst not see.

          Away! take heed;

          I will abroad.

Call in thy death's-head there; tie up thy fears;

          He that forbears

         To suit and serve his need

          Deserves his load."

But as I raved and grew more fierce and wild

          At every word,

Methought I heard one calling, Child!

          And I replied My Lord.

http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/173625

One of the scariest things about worshipping God is not really knowing whether or not he exists. However, many people, especially in Herbert's lifetime (1593-1633), would blindly love and worship him anyway. George Herbert rebels against this thought. Herbert challenges his own belief saying that all he does is praise and worship God yet he knows not whether he actually exists and he tells how God has done nothing for him. Herbert then describes how God has wronged him with his last harvest, either symbolic or actual, saying, "Have I no harvest but a thorn." He then criticizes God for doing nothing about his problems when he can, "but there is fruit, and thou hast hands." Herbert continues his criticism throughout the entire piece until the very end. There he is interrupted during another complaint until he stops himself and says, "Methought I heard one calling, Child! And I replied, My Lord." Stating that though he complains so much and discusses the possibility of ceasing to praise and worship, he still goes right back to where he was before.

Rebellion Poem- Andy Hoyt

[anyone lived in a pretty how town]

BY E. E. CUMMINGS

anyone lived in a pretty how town

(with up so floating many bells down)

spring summer autumn winter

he sang his didn't he danced his did.

Women and men(both little and small)

cared for anyone not at all

they sowed their isn’t they reaped their same

sun moon stars rain

children guessed(but only a few

and down they forgot as up they grew

autumn winter spring summer)

that noone loved him more by more

when by now and tree by leaf

she laughed his joy she cried his grief

bird by snow and stir by still

anyone’s any was all to her

someones married their everyones

laughed their cryings and did their dance

(sleep wake hope and then)they

said their nevers they slept their dream

stars rain sun moon

(and only the snow can begin to explain

how children are apt to forget to remember

with up so floating many bells down)

one day anyone died i guess

(and noone stooped to kiss his face)

busy folk buried them side by side

little by little and was by was

all by all and deep by deep

and more by more they dream their sleep

noone and anyone earth by april

wish by spirit and if by yes.

Women and men(both dong and ding)

summer autumn winter spring

reaped their sowing and went their came

sun moon stars rain

    "anyone lived in a pretty how town" by E.E Cummings is a clear example of the rebellion found in poetry. It is a criticism of conformity in everyday life. The main character in the poem is named "anyone" to represent how this brief biography of his life could apply to anyone in our status quo society. Cummings use noone, someone, everyone, and their and some unclear antecedents contributes to the same effect. The "pretty how town" is meant to represent the quintessential small, friendly American town, adding to the anonymity of the poem. This poem ends with the anti-climatic death of anyone, showing how inconsequential "anyone's" life is in a conformist society.

Rebellion Poem- Brittany Graul

Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night
Dylan Thomas

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Thomas, Dylan. "Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night." Literature and Composition Reading Writing Thinking. Boston * New York: Bedford/St. Martin's, 2011. 926. Print.

 Death is inevitable. We know that all of humanity must at one point die. Death is a part of who we are essentially and it is a disease to which no one is immune. We all must experience death for ourselves; there is no avoiding it. In Dylan Thomas’ poem, “Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night”, he urges to fight against death. He begs that his father fight against that inevitability, against who he is, and try his hardest to fight against his death. The speaker implores his father to “Rage, rage against the dying of the light.” In essence, he wants his father to not go quietly into death, or rather “go gentle into that good night,” but to leave the world fighting. Though in his poem at the end, the speaker does directly address his father and asks him to rebel against death, Thomas certainly remarks on rebellion against death in general to all of his audience. Thomas’ poem asks that regardless of how you lived your life or who you are now, whether you were a man whose “frail deeds might have danced in a green bay” or one “who caught and sang the sun in flight,” that you must not welcome death with open arms and you must “rage” against it. Whether you are a “wise”, “wild”, “good”, or “grave” man, what is important is that you do not go gently out of this world, hence why this is repeated so often in the poem (“do not go gentle into that good night.”) Thomas is asking for a rebellion, or a fight, against death, due to his dying father, and it is death that is one of the very things that make us human. It is so central to us because it signifies our mortality, and therefore, Thomas is rebelling against himself because death is part of what makes us who we are.

Rebellion Poem-Garrett Uebelhor

The Unknown Citizen

W. H. Auden, 1907 - 1973

(To JS/07 M 378
This Marble Monument
Is Erected by the State)

He was found by the Bureau of Statistics to be
One against whom there was no official complaint,
And all the reports on his conduct agree
That, in the modern sense of an old-fashioned word, he was a saint,
For in everything he did he served the Greater Community.
Except for the War till the day he retired
He worked in a factory and never got fired,
But satisfied his employers, Fudge Motors Inc.
Yet he wasn’t a scab or odd in his views,
For his Union reports that he paid his dues,
(Our report on his Union shows it was sound)
And our Social Psychology workers found
That he was popular with his mates and liked a drink.
The Press are convinced that he bought a paper every day
And that his reactions to advertisements were normal in every way.
Policies taken out in his name prove that he was fully insured,
And his Health-card shows he was once in hospital but left it cured.
Both Producers Research and High-Grade Living declare
He was fully sensible to the advantages of the Instalment Plan
And had everything necessary to the Modern Man,
A phonograph, a radio, a car and a frigidaire.
Our researchers into Public Opinion are content 
That he held the proper opinions for the time of year;
When there was peace, he was for peace:  when there was war, he went.
He was married and added five children to the population,
Which our Eugenist says was the right number for a parent of his generation.
And our teachers report that he never interfered with their education.
Was he free? Was he happy? The question is absurd:
Had anything been wrong, we should certainly have heard.

This poem is a prime example of the rebellion that takes place through poetry. In this piece W.H Auden satirizes the nature of society and how we believe that the way to being a good person and a normal person is to conform to what others are doing and to lose our individualism. He shows that in society one is considered to be in the right as long as they never did anything to stand out. The statement "poetry is man's rebellion against whathe is" could not be more right in terms of this poem. Auden is specifically setting up what the nature of our society is only to poke fun at its construction and expectations and to say that being a conformist is not living your life in the best way possible. So in basically every way possible this poem represents the rebellious motive of poetry. 

Rebellion Poem- Hans Stromberg

Booker T. and W.E.B.

Booker T. Washington and W.E.B. DuBois

By Dudley Randall
"It seems to me," said Booker T.,
"It shows a mighty lot of cheek
To study chemistry and Greek
When Mister Charlie needs a hand
To hoe the cotton on his land,
And when Miss Ann looks for a cook,
Why stick your nose inside a book?"

"I don't agree," said W.E.B.
"If I should have the drive to seek
Knowledge of chemistry or Greek,
I'll do it. Charles and Miss can look
Another place for hand or cook,
Some men rejoice in skill of hand,
And some in cultivating land,
But there are others who maintain
The right to cultivate the brain."

"It seems to me," said Booker T.,
"That all you folks have missed the boat
Who shout about the right to vote,
And spend vain days and sleepless nights
In uproar over civil rights.
Just keep your mouths shut, do not grouse,
But work, and save, and buy a house."

"I don't agree," said W.E.B.
"For what can property avail
If dignity and justice fail?
Unless you help to make the laws,
They'll steal your house with trumped-up clause.
A rope's as tight, a fire as hot,
No matter how much cash you've got.
Speak soft, and try your little plan,
But as for me, I'll be a man."

"It seems to me," said Booker T.--

"I don't agree,"
Said W.E.B.

Randall, Dudley. "Booker T. and W.E.B." Literature and Composition Reading Writing Thinking. Boston * New York: Bedford/St. Martin's, 2011. 932. Print.

"Poetry is man's rebellion against what he is" is a very clever statement, easily summing up what poetry really is. In "Booker T. and W.E.B." Randall is showing that his poetry is two men rebelling against each other rather than a man rebelling against what he is. This poem was written in 1969 during a time of turmoil in the midst of the Civil Rights Movement. Booker T. Washington and W.E.B. DuBois were two very important leaders in the civil rights movement. However, that may be their only similarity because both men ad very different viewpoints on how African Americans can secure financial prosperity in America during that time period. DuBois wanted the African American to gain financial prosperity through education while Washington wanted the African American man to gain prosperity through manual labor. This is the rebellion: the two opposing viewpoints. This piece of poetry responds by showing this conflict and rebellion to show the turmoil of the time period during the civil rights movement.

Rebellion Poem - Katy Estes

On Living
By Nazim Hikmet

Living is no laughing matter:
you must live with great seriousness
like a squirrel, for example-
I mean without looking for something beyond and above living,
I mean living must be your whole occupation.
Living is no laughing matter:
You must take it seriously,
so much so and to such a degree
that, for example, your hands tied behind your back, your back to the wall,
or else in a laboratory
in your white coat and safety glasses,
you can die for people-
even for people whose faces you've never seen,
even though you know living
is the most real, the most beautiful thing.
I mean, you must take living so seriously
that even at seventy, for example, you'll plant
olive trees-
and not for your children, either,
but because although you fear death you don't believe it,
because living, I mean, weighs heavier.

Let's say we're seriously ill, need surgery-
which is to say we might not get up from the white table.
even though it's impossible not to feel sad
about going a little too soon,
we'll still laugh at the jokes being told,
we'll look out of the window to see if it's raining,
or still wait anxiously
for the latest newscast...
Let's say we're at the front-
for something worth fighting for, say.
There, in the first offensive, on that very day,
we might fall on our face, dead.
We'll know this with a curious anger,
but we'll still worry ourselves to death
about the outcome of the war, which could last years.
Let's say we're in prison
and close to fifty,
and we have eighteen more years, say,
before the iron doors will open.
We'll still live with the outside,
with its people and animals, struggle and wind-
I mean with the outside beyond the walls.
I mean, however and wherever we are,
we must live as if we will never die.

This earth will grow cold,
a star among stars
and one of the smallest,
a gilded mote on blue velvet-
I mean this, our great Earth.
This earth will grow cold one day,
not like a block of ice
or a dead cloud even
but like an empty walnut it will roll along
in pitch-black space...
you must grieve for this right now
-you have to feel this sorrow now-
for the world must be loved this much
if you're going to say "I lived"...


"Poetry is man’s rebellion against what he is.” Man is mortal, not immortal, and each of us have an expiration date. As much as many people want to believe that we will not die, or at least not face the fact that our lives all have ends, it isn't true. Hikmet writes in this poem that instead of "living without regrets" and doing whatever you want, that you have to live life seriously. Hikmet understands that life is short and each of us will die and so we need to take our lives seriously because they are the only ones that we get. He continuously repeats "Living is no laughing matter" to emphasize the fact that life isn't easy as many people believe and sitting back and doing nothing won't give you outcomes. Life is serious and takes hard work, but it's worth living for.