Comments on: Chirp, Memory

By: Greg

Greg — Sat, 13 Feb 2010 19:47:48 +0000

Fast-fading violets all cover’d up… wait, no, that’s not right. For some reason, when I was 4, my father made me memorize the piece of doggerel from the young poetess Emmeline in Huck Finn. It still haunts me terribly. To this day I can’t hear the name Stephen—even if it’s the prime minister of Canada—without thinking of “sickness’ shots”.

And did young Stephen sicken,
And did young Stephen die?
And did the sad hearts thicken,
And did the mourners cry?

No; such was not the fate of
Young Stephen Dowling Bots;
Though sad hearts round him thickened,
‘Twas not from sickness’ shots.

No whooping-cough did rack his frame,
Nor measles drear, with spots;
Not these impaired the sacred name
Of Stephen Dowling Bots.

Despised love struck not with woe
That head of curly knots,
Nor stomach troubles laid him low,
Young Stephen Dowling Bots.

O no. Then list with tearful eye,
Whilst I his fate do tell.
His soul did from this cold world fly,
By falling down a well.

They got him out and emptied him;
Alas it was too late;
His spirit was gone for to sport aloft
In the realms of the good and great.

By: Laura Eve

Laura Eve — Wed, 10 Feb 2010 16:26:09 +0000

I still remember the first thing I ever memorized: “We few, we happy few, we band of brothers, for he today who sheds his blood with me will be my brother, be he ne’er so vile, this day will gentle his condition.” It was either that, or some fucking Wordsworth daffodil nonsense (I like the blood-shed memory better).

I look forward to more of this twerpy blog.

By: Genevieve

Genevieve — Wed, 10 Feb 2010 07:07:12 +0000

“Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird!”

I remember being 9, coming downstairs dressed all in black and my mother saying to me, “It’s too soon.”