2018

Unseen poetry

PAPER 2, SECTION C PREPARATION

MISS WOODALL

1

Mother, any distance

Mother, any distance greater than a single span requires a second pair of hands. You come to help me measure windows, pelmets, doors, the acres of the walls, the prairies of the floors.

You at the zero-end, me with the spool of tape, recording length, reporting metres, centimetres back to base, then leaving up the stairs, the line still feeding out, unreeling years between us. Anchor. Kite.

I space-walk through the empty bedrooms, climb the ladder to the loft, to breaking point, where something has to give; two floors below your fingertips still pinch the last one-hundredth of an inch...I reach towards a hatch that opens on an endless sky to fall or fly.

-- Simon Armitage

Q: In ‘Mother, any distance’ how does the poet present the speaker’s feelings

about his mother?

24 marks

2

Before You Were Mine I’m ten years away from the corner you laugh on with your pals, Maggie McGeeney and Jean Duff. The three of you bend from the waist, holding each other, or your knees, and shriek at the pavement. Your polka-dot dress blows round your legs. Marilyn. I’m not here yet. The thought of me doesn’t occur in the ballroom with the thousand eyes, the fizzy, movie tomorrows the right walk home could bring. I knew you would dance like that. Before you were mine, your Ma stands at the close with a hiding for the late one. You reckon it’s worth it. The decade ahead of my loud, possessive yell was the best one, eh? I remember my hands in those high-heeled red shoes, relics, and now your ghost clatters toward me over George Square till I see you, clear as scent, under the tree, with its lights, and whose small bites on your neck, sweetheart? Cha cha cha! You’d teach me the steps on the way home from Mass, stamping stars from the wrong pavement. Even then I wanted the bold girl winking in Portobello, somewhere in Scotland, before I was born. That glamorous love lasts where you sparkle and waltz and laugh before you were mine.

- Carol Ann Duffy

Q: In both ‘Mother, Any Distance’ and ‘Before you were Mine’ the speakers

describe feelings about their parents. What are the similarities and/or

differences between the ways the poets present those feelings?

8 marks

3

November

Show's over, folks. And didn't October do A bang-up job? Crisp breezes, full-throated cries Of migrating geese, low-floating coral moon. Nothing left but fool's gold in the trees. Did I love it enough, the full-throttle foliage, While it lasted? Was I dazzled? The bees Have up and quit their last-ditch flights of forage And gone to shiver in their winter clusters. Field mice hit the barns, big squirrels gorge On busted chestnuts. A sky like hardened plaster Hovers. The pasty river, its next of kin, Coughs up reed grass fat as feather dusters. Even the swarms of kids have given in To winter's big excuse, boxed-in allure: TVs ricochet light behind pulled curtains. The days throw up a closed sign around four. The hapless customer who'd wanted something Arrives to find lights out, a bolted door.

- Maggie Dietz

Q: In ‘November’ how does the poet present the speaker’s feelings about the changing seasons?

24 marks

4

The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth; Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy and wanted wear; Though as for that the passing there Had worn them really about the same, And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back. I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.

- Robert Frost

Q: In both ‘November’ and ‘The Road Not Taken’ the speakers describe a moment of change. What are the similarities and/or differences between the ways the poets present these moments?

8 marks

5

Nettles

My son aged three fell in the nettle bed. 'Bed' seemed a curious name for those green spears, That regiment of spite behind the shed: It was no place for rest. With sobs and tears The boy came seeking comfort and I saw White blisters beaded on his tender skin. We soothed him till his pain was not so raw. At last he offered us a watery grin, And then I took my billhook, honed the blade And went outside and slashed in fury with it Till not a nettle in that fierce parade Stood upright any more. And then I lit A funeral pyre to burn the fallen dead, But in two weeks the busy sun and rain Had called up tall recruits behind the shed: My son would often feel sharp wounds again.

- Vernon Scannell

Q: In ‘Nettles’, how does the poet present the speaker’s feelings?

24 marks

6

On my First Son Farewell, thou child of my right hand, and joy; My sin was too much hope of thee, lov'd boy. Seven years tho' wert lent to me, and I thee pay, Exacted by thy fate, on the just day. O, could I lose all father now! For why Will man lament the state he should envy? To have so soon 'scap'd world's and flesh's rage, And if no other misery, yet age? Rest in soft peace, and, ask'd, say, "Here doth lie Ben Jonson his best piece of poetry." For whose sake henceforth all his vows be such, As what he loves may never like too much.

- Ben Jonson

Q: In both ‘Nettles’ and ‘On My First Son’ the speakers describe feelings about

their children. What are the similarities and/or differences between the ways

the poets present those feelings?

8 marks

7

Quickdraw I wear the two, the mobile and the landline phones, like guns, slung from the pockets on my hips. I’m all alone. You ring, quickdraw, your voice a pellet in my ear, and hear me groan.

You’ve wounded me. Next time, you speak after the tone. I twirl the phone, then squeeze the trigger of my tonge, wide of the mark. You choose your spot, then blast me

through the heart. And this is love, high noon, calamity, hard liqour in the old Last Chance saloon. I show the mobile to the sheriff; in my boot, another one’s

concealed. You text them both at once. I reel. Down on my knees, I fumble for the phone, read the silver bullets of your kiss. Take this … and this … and this … and this … and this …

- Carol Ann Duffy

Q: In ‘Quickdraw’, how does the poet explore strong feelings for another person?

24 marks

8

In Paris with You

Don't talk to me of love. I've had an earful And I get tearful when I've downed a drink or two. I'm one of your talking wounded. I'm a hostage. I'm maroonded. But I'm in Paris with you. Yes I'm angry at the way I've been bamboozled And resentful at the mess I've been through. I admit I'm on the rebound And I don't care where are we bound. I'm in Paris with you. Do you mind if we do not go to the Louvre If we say sod off to sodding Notre Dame, If we skip the Champs Elysées And remain here in this sleazy Old hotel room Doing this and that To what and whom Learning who you are, Learning what I am. Don't talk to me of love. Let's talk of Paris, The little bit of Paris in our view. There's that crack across the ceiling And the hotel walls are peeling And I'm in Paris with you. Don't talk to me of love. Let's talk of Paris. I'm in Paris with the slightest thing you do. I'm in Paris with your eyes, your mouth, I'm in Paris with... all points south. Am I embarrassing you? I'm in Paris with you.

James Fenton

Q: In both ‘Quickdraw’ and ‘In Paris with You’ the speakers describe relationships with another person. What are the similarities and/or differences in how these relationships are presented? 8 marks

9

Hour Love’s time’s beggar, but even a single hour, bright as a dropped coin, makes love rich. We find an hour together, spend it not on flowers or wine, but the whole of the summer sky and a grass ditch. For thousands of seconds we kiss; your hair like treasure on the ground; the Midas light turning your limbs to gold. Time slows, for here we are millionaires, backhanding the night so nothing dark will end our shining hour, no jewel hold a candle to the cuckoo spit hung from the blade of grass at your ear, no chandelier or spotlight see you better lit than here. Now. Time hates love, wants love poor, but love spins gold, gold, gold from straw.

- Carol Ann Duffy

Q: In ‘Hour’, how does the poet present ideas about love?

24 marks

10

My Mother

She said the cornflake cake made her day, she said a man cannot be blamed for being unfaithful: his heart is not in tune with his extremities and it’s just the way his body chemistry is. She said all sorts of things. We saw a duck pond and a man with a tub of maggots and a tub of sweet corn, we saw the walled garden and the old-fashioned library in the park, stopped for a cup of tea in a cafe where we had the cornflake cake cut into halves with the handle of a plastic fork. We saw yellow crocuses growing in a ring around a naked tree, the sky showing in purple triangles between the branches. We looked in the window of Butterworth’s at the bikes: they were beautiful, all of them. Gorgeous, she said. The sun was pushing through the iced air and landing on us on our heads and our shoulders and the backs of our legs. We bought nail varnish remover from Wilko’s, a bath sheet, and two Diet Cokes. She said she’d been talking to Jesus and God because she didn’t want to go to hell, although, she said, correctly, we’ve been through hell already, haven’t we. She said a woman should know her place, should wait. She lit a cigarette.

- Ruby Robinson

Q: In both ‘Hour’ and ‘My Mother’ the speakers present an everyday experience as important. What are the similarities and/or differences in how these experiences are presented? 8 marks

11

Born Yesterday

For Sally Amis

Tightly-folded bud, I have wished you something None of the others would: Not the usual stuff About being beautiful, Or running off a spring Of innocence and love— They will all wish you that, And should it prove possible, Well, you’re a lucky girl. But if it shouldn’t, then May you be ordinary; Have, like other women, An average of talents: Not ugly, not good-looking, Nothing uncustomary To pull you off your balance, That, unworkable itself, Stops all the rest from working. In fact, may you be dull— If that is what a skilled, Vigilant, flexible, Unemphasised, enthralled Catching of happiness is called.

Q: In ‘Born Yesterday’, how does the poet present feelings about another person? 24 marks

12

Sometimes

Sometimes things don't go, after all,

from bad to worse. Some years, muscadel

faces down frost; green thrives; the crops don't fail,

sometimes a man aims high, and all goes well.

A people sometimes will step back from war;

elect an honest man, decide they care

enough, that they can't leave some stranger poor.

Some men become what they were born for.

Sometimes our best efforts do not go

amiss, sometimes we do as we meant to.

The sun will sometimes melt a field of sorrow

that seemed hard frozen: may it happen for you.

- Sheenagh Pugh

Q: In both ‘Born Yesterday and ‘Sometimes’ the speakers explore the importance of ordinary events. What are the similarities and/or differences in how these ideas are presented? 8 marks

13

Long Distance II Though my mother was already two years dead Dad kept her slippers warming by the gas, put hot water bottles her side of the bed and still went to renew her transport pass. You couldn't just drop in. You had to phone. He'd put you off an hour to give him time to clear away her things and look alone as though his still raw love were such a crime. He couldn't risk my blight of disbelief though sure that very soon he'd hear her key scrape in the rusted lock and end his grief. He knew she'd just popped out to get the tea. I believe life ends with death, and that is all. You haven't both gone shopping; just the same, in my new black leather phone book there's your name and the disconnected number I still call.

- Tony Harrison

Q: In ‘Long Distance’ how does the poet present ideas about loss? 24 marks

14

Wild Geese

You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves. Tell me about your despair, yours, and I will tell you mine. Meanwhile the world goes on. Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain are moving across the landscapes, over the prairies and the deep trees, the mountains and the rivers. Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, are heading home again. Whoever you are, no matter how lonely, the world offers itself to your imagination, calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting — over and over announcing your place in the family of things.

- Mary Oliver

Q: In both ‘Long Distance’ and ‘Wild Geese’ the speakers explore ideas about moving forwards in life. What are the similarities and/or differences in how these ideas are presented? 8 marks

15

The Manhunt After the first phase,

after passionate nights and intimate days,

only then would he let me trace

the frozen river which ran through his face,

only then would he let me explore

the blown hinge of his lower jaw,

and handle and hold

the damaged, porcelain collar-bone,

and mind and attend the fractured rudder of shoulder-blade,

and finger and thumb the parachute silk of his punctured lung.

Only then could I bind the struts

and climb the rungs of his broken ribs,

and feel the hurt

of his grazed heart.

Skirting along,

only then could I picture the scan,

the foetus of metal beneath his chest

where the bullet had finally come to rest.

Then I widened the search,

traced the scarring back to its source

to a sweating, unexploded mine

buried deep in his mind,

around which every nerve in his body had tightened and closed.

Then, and only then, did I come close.

- Simon Armitage

Q: In ‘The Manhunt’, how does the poet present ideas about damaged relationships? 24 marks

16

Symptoms Although you have given me a stomach upset, Weak knees, a lurching heart, a fuzzy brain, A high-pitched laugh, a monumental phone bill, A feeling of unworthiness, sharp pain When you are somewhere else, a guilty conscience, A longing, and a dread of what’s in store, A pulse rate for the Guinness Book of Records - Life now is better than it was before. Although you have given me a raging temper, Insomnia, a rising sense of panic, A hopeless challenge, bouts of introspection, Raw, bitten nails, a voice that’s strangely manic, A selfish streak, a fear of isolation, A silly smile, lips that are chapped and sore, A running joke, a risk, an inspiration – Life now is better than it was before. Although you have given me a premonition, Chattering teeth, a goal, a lot to lose, A granted wish, mixed motives, superstitions, Hang-ups and headaches, fear of awful news, A bubble in my throat, a dare to swallow, A crack of light under a closing door, The crude, fantastic prospect of forever Life now is better that it was before.

- Sophie Hannah

Q: In both ‘The Manhunt and ‘Symptoms’ the speakers present ideas about being in love. What are the similarities and/or differences in how these ideas are presented? 8 marks

17

Brothers

Saddled with you for the afternoon, me and Paul ambled across the threadbare field to the bus stop, talking over Sheffield Wednesday’s chances in the Cup while you skipped beside us in your ridiculous tank-top, spouting six-year-old views on Rotherham United.

Suddenly you froze, said you hadn’t any bus fare. I sighed, said you should go and ask Mum and while you windmilled home I looked at Paul. His smile, like mine, said I was nine and he was ten and we must stroll the town, doing what grown-ups do. As a bus crested the hill we chased Olympic Gold. Looking back I saw you spring towards the gate, your hand holding out what must have been a coin. I ran on, unable to close the distance I’d set in motion.

- Andrew Forster

Q: In ‘Brothers’, how does the poet present a significant moment in a relationship?

24 marks

18

Medusa – Carol Ann Duffy

A suspicion, a doubt, a jealousy grew in my mind, which turned the hairs on my head to filthy snakes, as though my thoughts hissed and spat on my scalp. My bride’s breath soured, stank in the grey bags of my lungs. I’m foul mouthed now, foul tongued, yellow fanged. There are bullet tears in my eyes. Are you terrified?

Be terrified. It’s you I love, perfect man, Greek God, my own; but I know you’ll go, betray me, stray from home. So better by far for me if you were stone.

I glanced at a buzzing bee, a dull grey pebble fell to the ground. I glanced at a singing bird, a handful of dusty gravel spattered down.

I looked at a ginger cat, a housebrick shattered a bowl of milk. I looked at a snuffling pig, a boulder rolled in a heap of shit.

I stared in the mirror. Love gone bad showed me a Gorgon. I stared at a dragon. Fire spewed from the mouth of a mountain.

And here you come with a shield for a heart and a sword for a tongue and your girls, your girls. Wasn’t I beautiful? Wasn’t I fragrant and young?

Look at me now.

- Carol Ann Duffy

Q: In both ‘Brothers’ and ‘Medusa the speakers present ideas about a changing relationship. What are the similarities and/or differences in how these changes are presented? 8 marks

20

A Marriage

You are holding up a ceiling

with both arms. It is very heavy,

but you must hold it up, or else

it will fall down on you. Your arms

are tired, terribly tired,

and, as the day goes on, it feels

as if either your arms or the ceiling

will soon collapse.

But then,

unexpectedly,

something wonderful happens:

Someone,

a man or a woman,

walks into the room

and holds their arms up

to the ceiling beside you.

So you finally get

to take down your arms.

You feel the relief of respite,

the blood flowing back

to your fingers and arms.

And when your partner's arms tire,

you hold up your own

to relieve him again.

And it can go on like this

for many years

without the house falling.

- Michael Blumenthal

27.1: In ‘A Marriage’, how does the poet present the speaker’s feelings about relationships?

24 marks

21

SONNET 130

My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;

Coral is far more red than her lips' red;

If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;

If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.

I have seen roses damask'd, red and white,

But no such roses see I in her cheeks;

And in some perfumes is there more delight

Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.

I love to hear her speak, yet well I know

That music hath a far more pleasing sound;

I grant I never saw a goddess go;

My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:

And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare

As any she belied with false compare.

- William Shakespeare

Q: In both ‘A Marriage’ and ‘Sonnet 130’ the speakers describe feelings about

another person. What are the similarities and/or differences between the

ways the poets present these feelings?

8 marks