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street, and out on patrol violent memories occur at any time flashbacks I walk over it week after week. Then I'm home on leave. But I blink eventually going back verb and he bursts again through the doors of the bank. →→ PTSD Sleep, and he's probably armed, possibly not. → paradoxical Dream, and he's torn apart by a dozen rounds. And the drink and the drugs won't flush him out - LD plenumanised not in ↳memory L slows down → makes it worse colloquial language false nonchalarae JUXTAPOSITION can't get rid of the memories physically mind like a toilet ↓ clogged always reminding him returns back mentally Shaunted Comparison poems: - Nar Photographer - Exposure - Kamikaze - Poppies - What the poem's about: Themes guilt conflict group of soldiers shoot a man running away from a bank raid death of robber is described in graphic cletail Rob can't tell if the man was armed or not he's here in my head when I close my eyes, dug in behind enemy lines, became his own enemy not left for dead in some distant, Sun Stunned, Sand-Smothered land or six-feet-under in desert sand, sibilance war - can't get man's death out of his head colloquial language but near to the knuckle, here and now, his bloody life in my bloody hands. ↓ rage, anger physical Stains Key quotes: - "His blood-shadows stays on the street There on the ground sort of inside out" "pain itself, the image of agany" - "I see every round as it rips through his life" memories are stuck hint about Lady Macbeth ↳ feels so guilty and sees no way out sounds like sand moving This sounds like the reader is listening in. Definite doubt here contrasts with the action of violence after this. Repetition sounds like he's keen to tell the reader it wasn't just him there show's he's harbouring guilt On another occasion, we get sent out to tackle booters raiding a bank And one of them legs it up the road probably armed, possibly not Repetition of I see' emphasises visual horrors of the scene. Quite a grotesque exaggerated image REMAINS Simon Armitage Well myself and somebody else and somebody else are all of the same mind So all three of us open fire Three of a kind all letting fly, and I swear I see every round as it rips through his life I see broad daylight on the other side Colloquial expression - makes it sound like an ordinary anecdote. Surprise sudden violence doesn't fit with the casual style Two casual, cold actions makes it seem like the body is a piece of rubbish. pain itself, the image of agony One of my mates go by and tosses his guts back into his body Then he's carted off in the back of a lorry Voice switches to T- now more personal. Violent metaphor contrasts shockingly m the colloquial manner o So we've hit this leater a dozen times the previous stanzas and he's there on the ground, sort of inside out Almost a childish description - he can't process it as an adult End of story, except not really His bload - Shadows stays on the street, and out on patrol I walk over it week after week Then I'm home on leave. But I blink Volta, speaker's mood changes Short sentence shows that he believes that once he's home he won't have the memories. Short words separated by a caesura, sound like gunshots. Metaphor compares memory in his mind to the soldiers in the trenches. and he bursts again through the doors of the bank Sleep, and he's probably armed, possibly not Repetition of line 4 shows he's replaying Dream, and he's bom apart by a dozen rounds the event in his And the drink and the drugs won't flush him out onveys his inner mind and partially turmoil Visual reminder of death foreshadows memories that will haunt him. Possible double meaning- man's blood but also swearing in anger Suddenness of the line conveys confusion Enjambement carries the reader forward and the horror is still there when the next. stanza starts. Violent parts of the adjectives show how places are affected by war Longline he's here in my head when I close my eyes, & sibilance slow pace and reflect speakers lack of clear thoughts. dug in behind enery Line, not left for dead in some distant, sun-sturned, sand-smothered Land or six-feet-under in desert sand. No collective responsibility-feels entirely responsible now. Macbeth? After King Duncan's murder L. Macbeth sleepwalks trying to wash off imaginary blood of her hands. Allusion hints at the speaker feeling unbalanced by his guilt, like L Macbeth was. but near to the knuckle, here and now, his bloody lipe in my bloody hands. Thursday 26th January 2013 Simon Armitage: • bom in West Riding of Yorkshire - married Allison Alison Tootell and Sue Roberts jockey first poet laureate also a disc ; • first poetry book (Zom!) published in 1989 - started writing poetry professionally after university... worked as a probation officer when he started writing seriously. (specifically Huddersfield)