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Ms. Klanderman


Introduction to the Aspects of Poetry Ms. Klanderman Night Letter to the Reader by Billy Collins I get up from the tangled bed and go outside, Pink - metaphor a bird ... – PowerPoint PPT presentation

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Title: Ms. Klanderman

Introduction to the Aspects of Poetry
  • Ms. Klanderman

How to use this PowerPoint
  • This PowerPoint is designed to help you
    understand what makes poetry such a creative and
    wonderful form of self-expression. It will
    prepare you to write your own poetry.
  • Anything typed in red is something you need to
    write down in your journal and/or do in your
  • If you are absent, go to my website to make up
    what you missed. (google Klanderman and
    Creative Writing I)

  • Poetic expression is hard to define and even
    harder to label since in itself it can comprise
    so many styles, ideas, lengths and forms.
  • In this class we will focus on these poetic
  • Idea and Emotion
  • Type and Form
  • Style of the Line
  • Concise Word Choice

When students tell me they write for their own
enjoyment, most students tell me they like to
write poetry. Answer in your journal Why is
this so? Why do some teens write and/or read
We don't read and write poetry because it's
cute. We read and write poetry because we are
members of the human race. And the human race is
filled with passion. And medicine, law, business,
engineering - these are noble pursuits and
necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty,
romance, love - these are what we stay alive
for. Mr. Keating, played by Robin Williams in
the movie Dead Poets Society
Idea and Emotion Poetry is the one type of
writing that truly comes from an emotional
response to an image, an event or experience, or
a memory. Most poets say they are inspired to
write a poem. "A poem begins with a lump in the
throat a home-sickness or a love-sickness. It is
a reaching-out toward expression an effort to
find fulfillment. A complete poem is one where an
emotion has found its thought and the thought has
found the words.-Robert Frost
If you know what you are going to write
when youre writing a poem, its going to be
average. Derek Walcott
Emotion- Some poets begin writing a poem for an
emotional release. Idea- Some poets begin
writing a poem because they are inspired by
something theyve experienced.
Answer the following questions in your journal
What are typical emotions and topics shown in
poetry? Are there bad poetry topics?
Answer in your journal What does a poem need to
look like and contain to be a poem?
Things to think about in your answer Do most
poems rhyme? Are poems about emotions? Are
poems a certain length? What is the goal of a
poem? Can poets ignore grammar rules like
capital letters and punctuation? Can poems be
funny? What types of word choice or language do
you see in poems?
IS THIS A POEM? A Supermarket In California by
Allan Ginsberg What thoughts I have of you
tonight, Walt Whitman, for I walked down the
sidestreets under the trees with a headache
self-conscious looking at the full moon. In
my hungry fatigue, and shopping for images, I
went into the neon fruit supermarket, dreaming
of your enumerations! What peaches and what
penumbras! Whole families shopping at night!
Aisles full of husbands! Wives in the avocados,
babies in the tomatoes! --and you, García Lorca,
what were you doing down by the watermelons?
Is this a poem? l(a l(a le af fa ll s)
one l iness
Is this a poem?
Coming Up by Ani DiFranco Our father who art
in a penthouseSits in his 37th floor suiteAnd
swivels to gaze downAt the city he made me inHe
allows me to stand andSolicit graffiti untilHe
needs the land I stand onI in my darkened
thresholdAm pawing through my pocketsThe
receipts, the bus schedulesThe urgent napkin
poemsThe matchbook phone numbersAll of which
laundering has renderedPulpy and strangeLoose
change and a keyAsk meGo ahead, ask me if I
careI got the answer hereI wrote it down
somewhereI just gotta find it
Is This A Poem??
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,And sorry I
could not travel bothAnd be one traveler, long I
stoodAnd looked down one as far as I couldTo
where it bent in the undergrowth Then took the
other, as just as fairAnd having perhaps the
better claim,Because it was grassy and wanted
wearThough as for that, the passing thereHad
worn them really about the same,And both that
morning equally layIn 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 sighSomewhere ages and ages hencetwo
roads diverged in a wood, and I --I took the one
less traveled by,And that has made all the
Is This A Poem? The Road Not Taken by Robert
Where the Sidewalk Ends by Shel
Silverstein There is a place where the sidewalk
endsAnd before the street begins,And there the
grass grows soft and white,And there the sun
burns crimson bright,And there the moon-bird
rests from his flight To cool in the peppermint
wind.Let us leave this place where the smoke
blows blackAnd the dark street winds and
bends.Past the pits where the asphalt flowers
growWe shall walk with a walk that is measured
and slow,And watch where the chalk-white arrows
goTo the place where the sidewalk ends.Yes
we'll walk with a walk that is measured and
slow,And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows
go,For the children, they mark, and the
children, they knowThe place where the sidewalk
The answer ?
  • They are all poems.
  • When you write a poem, it should have a subject,
    a goal, a tone, and a flow. It should contain
    specific, condensed word choice and literary
    devices like metaphor, simile and imagery.

If I asked you to write a poem right now, how
would you write a poem?
One way is to follow a specific formula. Another
way is to just write. On the next five slides
pick one or more pictures and write what comes to
mind. Try to write it as a poem.
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Type and Form There are MANY different types or
forms of poems. Some fit a specific format and
some fit a specific theme. Some examples of
format poems Acrostic a word or set of words is
written down the page and each line starts with
that letter. Sonnet 14 lines of iambic
pentameter, with a specific rhyme scheme and
intro/conclusion style. Sestina Each stanza
must use the same end words as the first stanza,
but in a different pattern each time.
More Formats Haiku- A three line poem with
specific syllable lengths of 5-7-5. Limerick-
Usually a funny poem with a AABBA rhyme scheme
and specific syllable length. Villanelle- A poem
where certain lines are repeated to make more of
a refrain Pantoum Each stanza reuses different
lines in a specific pattern from the previous
Sonnet 18 by William Shakespeare Shall I
compare thee to a summer's day?Thou art more
lovely and more temperateRough winds do shake
the darling buds of May,And summer's lease hath
all too short a dateSometime too hot the eye of
heaven shines,And often is his gold complexion
dimmed,And every fair from fair sometime
declines,By chance, or nature's changing course
untrimmed But thy eternal summer shall not
fade,Nor lose possession of that fair thou
ow'st,Nor shall death brag thou wander'st in his
shade,When in eternal lines to time thou
grow'st,So long as men can breathe, or eyes can
see,So long lives this, and this gives life to
Haiku Falling to the ground, I watch a leaf
settle down In a bed of brown. Limerick There
once was a lady named Cager,Who as the result of
a wager,Consented to fartThe entire oboe
partOf Mozart's quartet in F-major.
Types of poems written based on themes Elegy
A poem about something lost Ode A poem
celebrating something Road A poem about a time
of travel Metaphor The whole poem is a
metaphor Object Obsession A poem written about
an object Narrative A poem that tells a
story Ballad A narrative poem with a refrain,
usually about love Prose A poem written more
like a paragraph
ELEGY (SONG) "My Immortal by Evanescence I'm so
tired of being hereSuppressed by all my childish
fearsAnd if you have to leaveI wish that you
would just leave'Cause your presence still
lingers hereAnd it won't leave me aloneThese
wounds won't seem to healThis pain is just too
realThere's just too much that time cannot
eraseChorusWhen you cried I'd wipe away all
of your tearsWhen you'd scream I'd fight away
all of your fearsAnd I held your hand through
all of these yearsBut you still haveAll of me
You used to captivate meBy your resonating
lightNow I'm bound by the life you left
behindYour face it hauntsMy once pleasant
dreamsYour voice it chased awayAll the sanity
in meThese wounds won't seem to healThis pain
is just too realThere's just too much that time
cannot eraseChorus
Elegy to My Summer Writing Spot by Ms. K Its
nights like these like friends forever
leaving that are so hard to say goodbye to, let
go of. So many things Ive written from this
stoop of cool cement, rough as a craftsmans
hands. My light bulb toes curl upon it for the
last night write of fall. The words come like
raindrops in spring, quickly covering this page
and the next until my body feels clean. Even the
cat stays out tonight. Body a rectangle of
charcoal fleece, green eyes encircling dying
spirea, his pupils the size of dimes, tail curled
in a J until his cheek finds my outstretched
hand and the rectangle becomes an ellipse poised
for a rubdown. His hind leg sticks out, white paw
pointing like a compass needle. In the distance,
a motorcycle revs its engine. The winds swings on
the chimes pendulum, whooshing through an
evening Id like to keep in a jar on the
counter, a clear glass delight to open some
clotted January night when it hurts to keep your
eyes open.
ODE to Guitar Hero by Josh Lefeber A video
game none the less. But an addiction at the most.
Oh Guitar hero, you are my escape. When the
world is just too much. Depending on my mood. I
can play many different levels. Easy, Medium,
Hard, or Even Expert. Just getting lost in the
songs. Easy Mode has become just like
breathing. Medium like riding a bike. Hard can be
like taking a calc test. Expert almost like a
chance of winning the lottery. Green, Red,
Yellow, Blue and Orange. The colors of the frets
on your neck. The boring black guitar oh so
plain. The whammy bar at the base.
I can personalize you anyway I want. I can paint
you, put stickers you. Even change your face
plate. To make our time together a blast. What
life would be like without you? Maybe I would
actually get something done. We have spent many
countless hours together I wouldn't trade them
for a thing. Oh Guitar Hero, The greatest part
about you is being able to play along with
friends. Enjoying every minute together. Guitar
hero is starting to rule my life. Late at night
my friends become Slash and Tommy. Were jamming
out like were best friends. Whether I am Rocking
the 80's With songs like What I Like About
You, Nothing but a Good Time, or I Wanna
I also can be reliving the Legends of Rock. Hit
Me with Your Best Shot, Paint it Black or
Barracuda. Are just a few of the songs I am
jamming too. Either a strap around my neck, or
sitting down with you in my lap. I manage to play
with such ease, praying that I don't mess up.
Playing you instead of doing homework, and
sleeping less and less. You are my nicotine, in a
plastic guitar. Oh Guitar Hero.
An Ode to Anticipating Autobiographical Incident
Essays by Ms. K   Its Friday morning and
twenty-five futures type in neat rows atop a
scuffed hardwood floor thats seen 2000 times as
many futures pass in and out of its paneled
doors.   They type their lives in clicks and
taps, the sound of percolating thoughts steady
and constant like the in/out breath of someone
sleeping a dream. Their ideas tick along as the
second hand sweeps its sixty second circle
behind me on the wall.   On white rectangular
screens, one black Times New Roman letter at a
time, words appear faster than raindrops on dry
pavement. Their ideas flow like the colors in
woven rag rugs, and branch out like the streets
they traveled to get here.   I say, Record a
memory with a lesson learned, and walk around to
see screens filled with first boyfriends, prank
stalker calls, stolen garden gnomes. One
vandalized picnic tables with swear
words, another placed 100 orange caution flags in
a friends front yard. They show me the hiding
spots parents never catch, where only silent
voices play tag and this time I get to be
it and chase them all down.
A Metaphor Song TIME by Pink Floyd Ticking
away the moments that make up a dull dayYou
fritter and waste the hours in an off-hand
wayKicking around on a piece of ground in your
home townWaiting for someone or something to
show you the wayTired of lying in the sunshine
staying home to watch the rainYou are young and
life is long and there is time to kill todayAnd
then the one day you find ten years have got
behind youNo one told you when to run, you
missed the starting gunAnd you run and you run
to catch up with the sun, but it's sinkingAnd
racing around to come up behind you againThe sun
is the same in the relative way, but you're
olderAnd shorter of breath and one day closer to
deathEvery year is getting shorter, never seem
to find the timePlans that either come to naught
or half a page of scribbled linesHanging on in
quiet desparation is the English wayThe time is
gone the song is over, thought I'd something more
to say
Style of the Line
As a poet you want to think about how you will
write your lines Are you following a
formula? If not do you want it have a beat or
more natural flow? When will you make a new
line? How will you divide your poem?
Some poems, and especially songs will have a
specific rhythm. You can feel it (like the beat
in music). Many rhyming poems have a rhythm or
beat. The Raven by Edgar Allan Poe is an
example of a poem that relies heavily on a
specific rhythm and rhyme. It is also a
narrative poem (one that tells a
story). http//
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered
weak and weary,Over many a quaint and curious
volume of forgotten lore,While I nodded, nearly
napping, suddenly there came a tapping,As of
some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber
door.'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, tapping
at my chamber door -Only this, and nothing
more. Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the
bleak December,And each separate dying ember
wrought its ghost upon the floor.Eagerly I
wished the morrow - vainly I had sought to
borrowFrom my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow
for the lost Lenore -For the rare and radiant
maiden whom the angels named Lenore -Nameless
here for evermore.
  • Poems without a specific rhythm or beat are
    called Free Verse.
  • Invented in the 1800s by Walt Whitman
  • Usually Non-rhyming
  • Line breaks and line lengths are up to the poet.
  • It is the most popular form used by contemporary
    poets today.

From Song of Myself from the book Leaves of
Grass http//
I depart as air, I shake my white locks at the
runaway sun, I effuse my flesh in eddies, and
drift it in lacy jags. I bequeath myself to the
dirt to grow from the grass I love, If you want
me again look for me under your boot-soles. You
will hardly know who I am or what I mean, But I
shall be good health to you nevertheless, And
filter and fibre your blood. Failing to fetch
me at first keep encouraged, Missing me one
place search another, I stop somewhere waiting
for you.
The ideas in a poem are organized by line breaks
and stanzas. Stanza- is like a poetry paragraph.
The next slide will show you examples of
stanzas (and me really happy because I met one of
my favorite poets at 2008s Fox Cities Book
Festival ?)
Introduction to Poetry by Billy Collins
I ask them to take a poem and hold it up to the
light like a color slide. or press an ear
against its hive. I say drop a mouse into a
poem and watch him probe his way out, Or walk
inside the poems room And feel the walls for a
light switch. I want them to water-ski across
the surface of a poem waving at the authors name
on the shore. But all they want to do is tie
the poem to a chair with rope and torture a
confession out of it. They begin beating it with
a hose to find out what it really means.
Concise Word Choice Poets must seek complex
thoughts and feelings and compress such
complexity into a single moment. Ezra
Pound Some people write out their feelings
when they are having a hard time. Pretend you
can take all of those words and feelings into
your hand. Squeeze them as hard as you can. What
leaks through your fingers is the essence that
is what you use to write a poem. -Ms. K
Sensory Language and Visual Imagery Since most
poems express emotions and ideas, a writer must
SHOW what is being written about. Poets and song
writers use visual imagery and sensory language
to show ideas. Sensory language is using words
that appeal to the five senses. Showing what
something sounds, smells, tastes, looks, and
feels like. Visual imagery is painting a picture
with words. Visual imagery uses aspects of
sensory language, specifically sight, to recreate
images, ideas and emotions. Strong verbs and
specific adjectives/ adverbs are used.
Blue- personification Green- visual imagery
Example of Sensory Language and Visual
Imagery The Round by Stanley Kunitz Light
splashed this morningon the shell-pink
anemonesswaying on their tall stemsdown
blue-spiked Veronicalight flowed in
rivuletsover the humps of the honeybeesthis
morning I saw light kissthe silk of the rosesin
their second flowering,my late bloomersflushed
with their brandy.A curious gladness shook me
  • The Student by Ted Kooser
  • The green shell of his back pack makes him
    lean Green- visual imagery
  • into wave after wave or responsibility, Red-
  • and he swings his stiff arms and cupped hands,
  • paddling ahead. He has extended his neck
  • to its full length, and his chin, hard as a beak,
  • breaks the cold surf. Hes got his baseball cap
  • backward as up he crawls, out of the froth
  • of a hangover and onto the sand of the future,
  • and lumbers, heavy with hope, into the library.

My Papa's Waltz by Theodore Roethke The whiskey
on your breath Could make a small boy dizzyBut
I hung on like deathSuch waltzing was not
easy. We romped until the pansSlid from the
kitchen shelfMy mother's countenanceCould not
unfrown itself. The hand that held my wristWas
battered on one knuckleAt every step you
missedMy right ear scraped a buckle. You beat
time on my headWith a palm caked hard by
dirt,Then waltzed me off to bedStill clinging
to your shirt. http//
Pick one picture and describe it using the five
(No Transcript)
One of the hardest things about writing poetry is
making a topic that has already been written
about seem new. Derek Walcott helps answer this
question. Poetry is the revelation of a
feeling that the poet believes to be interior and
personal which the reader recognizes as his
own.Salvatore Quasimodo Therefore, poetry
must come alive in a way that makes readers feel
as if they are experiencing events and emotions
for the first time. Everyone has had relationship
troubles, mourned the death of a loved one, or
witnessed injustice. How do you write about your
experience so the reader sees it as your own?
Showing VS. Telling If your emotion is
sadness, how do you show us? If your emotion is
happiness, how do you show us?
Girlfriend My girlfriend broke my heart. She
crushed my soul. She destroyed my being. She is
with another. She has betrayed me. I wish she
could see, How miserable she has made me. She
will never know, What I can show, She will be
lost someday Knowing that what we had will not
stay. I want her back But understand our
relationship would lack. Someday, She will know.
Is this a good poem? How can it be made better?
Tonight I can write the saddest lines By
Pablo NerudaTonight I can write the saddest
lines. Write, for example,'The night is
shatteredand the blue stars shiver in the
distance.'The night wind revolves in the sky
and sings.Tonight I can write the saddest
lines.I loved her, and sometimes she loved me
too.Through nights like this one I held her in
my armsI kissed her again and again under the
endless sky.She loved me sometimes, and I loved
her too.How could one not have loved her great
still eyes.Tonight I can write the saddest
lines.To think that I do not have her. To feel
that I have lost her.To hear the immense night,
still more immense without her.And the verse
falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.What
does it matter that my love could not keep
her.The night is shattered and she is not with
Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta
noche.Escribir, por ejemplo 'La noche está
estrellada,y tiritan, azules, los astros, a lo
lejos'.El viento de la noche gira en el cielo y
canta.Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta
This is all. In the distance someone is singing.
In the distance.My soul is not satisfied that it
has lost her.My sight searches for her as
though to go to her.My heart looks for her, and
she is not with me.The same night whitening the
same trees.We, of that time, are no longer the
same.I no longer love her, that's certain, but
how I loved her.My voice tried to find the wind
to touch her hearing.Another's. She will be
another's. Like my kisses before.Her void. Her
bright body. Her infinite eyes.I no longer love
her, that's certain, but maybe I love her.Love
is so short, forgetting is so long.Because
through nights like this one I held her in my
armsmy sould is not satisfied that it has lost
her.Though this be the last pain that she makes
me sufferand these the last verses that I write
for her.
Lonely I wish I wasnt lonely.I wish I could
escape my loneliness. I would run fast. I would
leave And my loneliness wouldnt be able to find
me. IS THIS A GOOD POEM? What would you add
or change to make it better?
The Rider by Naomi Shihab Nye A boy told meif
he roller-skated fast enoughhis loneliness
couldnt catch up to him, the best reason I ever
heardfor trying to be a champion. What I wonder
tonightpedaling hard down King William Streetis
if it translates to bicycles. A victory! To
leave your lonelinesspanting behind you on some
street cornerwhile you float free into a cloud
of sudden azaleas,pink petals that have never
felt loneliness,no matter how slowly they fell.
I feel pain. I wish to sleep forever. I wish I
could go on. I want to be strong, but cant. I
will tell myself to keep going. My heart has
been crushed. It is in little pieces. All I feel
is darkness. My life is empty. Can you show me
the way? Is this a good poem? How can it be
made better?
ml Lines for Winter by Mark Strand for Ros
Krauss Tell yourself as it gets cold and gray
falls from the air that you will go on walking,
hearing the same tune no matter where you find
yourself inside the dome of dark or under the
cracking white of the moon's gaze in a valley of
snow. Tonight as it gets cold tell yourself
what you know which is nothing but the tune
your bones play as you keep going. And you will
be able for once to lie down under the small
fire of winter stars. And if it happens that
you cannot go on or turn back and you find
yourself where you will be at the end, tell
yourself in that final flowing of cold through
your limbs that you love what you are. l
Figurative Language Poetry and songs frequently
use figurative language. Figurative language
uses comparisons, description, and explanation to
help the reader understand. There are many types
of figurative language. The most common forms
found in poetry and songs are Simile Metaphor Per
Simile Using like or as to compare two different
things. Examples Her hair was as orange as a
carrot Life is like a box of chocolates He would
stride off, sending patterns of frosty air before
him like the smoke of a cigar.
Apply Yourself! by Kathy Appelt Apply
yourself! was all he ever heard, as if he could
wrap himself around his homework like a
Band-Aid around a cut as if he could glue his
fingers to his Spanish vocabulary
words, paper feathers on his fingertips as if
he could nail his palms to Economics as if he
could plug his whole being into the good grade
machinery as if he could tape his head to the
linoleum as if he could paste his butt to the
desk as if he could spread his gray matter onto
the test sheet like peanut butter on
toast as if algorithms and battles and presidents
and theorems and scales and pep rallies and
maps and cosines and Bunsen burners and
hurricane charts and bills of rights and
dangling participles and dress codes and all
that filled his notebook could stick to his thin
body like flies to flypaper, his
fragile wings pinned to the poisonous
strip as if all that matters and will
matter is to add it all up and fill out the
application as if that mattered at all, as if
that mattered at allor all at once as if
that was all that mattered.
  • The Derelict by Sharon Olds Orange-
  • He passes me on the street, his hair
  • matted, skin polished with grime,
  • muttering, suit stained and stiffened
  • and yet he is so young, his blond beard like a
  • sign of beauty and power. But his hands,
  • strangely flat, as if nerveless, hands that
  • flap slightly as he walks, like hands of
  • someone who has had polio, hands,
  • that cannot be used. I smell the waste of his
  • piss, I see the ingot of his beard,
  • and think of my younger brother, his beauty,
  • coinage and voltage of his beard, his life
  • he is not using, like a violinist whose
  • hands have been crushed so he cannot play
  • I who was there at the crushing of his hands
  • and helped to crush them.

  • HELLO, I MUST BE GOING by Ms. Klanderman
  • When we finally took her cigarettes
    away Orange- simileNana tried to smoke chicken
    bones, lightingeach gnarled end with matches we
    forgot tocheck her pocket for. Youre a
    sweetie washer mantra, repeated like her old
    blue parakeetshe forgot to feed, and it died
    slowly, like thesmile from her face as she sat
    inthe blue velour chair, staring out the front
    windowlike she was watching a Garbo movie.When
    we came to bring her groceries,those bags like
    birthday presents,she would hike up her sweat
    pantslike an umpire contemplating a play
    andwander to the kitchen, her fingers playing
    with theedge of her t-shirt, and peer
    throughblue eyes, as clean as a slate, as we
    pulledcans of fruit cocktail and snack cakes
    magic-like frombrown paper sacks. She had the
    looks of Marilyn,never left the house in any
    shoes but heels, evenironed Boompas boxers
    until her mind moved on andforgot to leave a
    note. When we came over todayshe looked through
    me like I was a pane of glass. Myface like one
    she saw once in a magazine ad,or in the crowd at
    St. Johns Sunday mass.She asked me who I was,
    her voice like the hello youspeak into the
    phone, distant and hollow like shewas across a
    lake. The glimmer of recognition inher face like
    a dying ember stoked for the last timebefore
    burning out altogether. She put her handsup to
    her ashen face, devoid of the makeup shecaked on
    like Tammy Faye, and felt for her once
    prettyeyes, that broke a hundred hearts, as they
    betrayedher with tears, splashing down her face,
    surprising herlike rain on someone elses cheeks.

Now practice your own similes
  • The dog wagged his tail like
  • The tree swayed in the wind like
  • The night was as dark as
  • The music from the fifth grade band concert
    sounded like
  • The girls face was red as a.
  • His legs moved as fast as

Metaphor A direct comparison between two
things. A is B. Examples The stars are eye
candy. Freedom is a breakfast food. Their love is
the slap of a baseball in a mitt.
All I Need By Radiohead This song uses
metaphors. I'm the next actWaiting in the
wingsI'm an animalTrapped in your hot carI
am all the daysThat you choose to ignoreYou
are all I needYou are all I needI'm in the
middle of your pictureLying in the reedsI'm a
mothWho just wants to share your light
I'm just an insectTrying to get out of the
nightI only stick with youBecause there are no
othersYou are all I needYou're all I needI'm
in the middle of your pictureLying in the
reedsIt's all wrongIt's all rightIt's all
Sometimes they are written directly- Life is a
rollercoaster Life A is Rollercoaster
B Sometimes the form of is is left out.- Her
face,a picture of bliss, gazed at the
ocean. FaceA Picture of blissB
  • Night Letter to the Reader by Billy Collins
  • I get up from the tangled bed and go
    outside, Pink - metaphor
  • a bird leaving its nest,
  • a snail taking a holiday from its shell,
  • but only to stand on the lawn,
  • an ordinary insomniac
  • amid the growth systems of gardens and woods.
  • If I were younger, I might be thinking
  • about something I heard at a party,
  • about an unusual car,
  • or the press of Saturday night,
  • but as it is, I am simply conscious,
  • an animal in pajamas,
  • sensing only the pale humidity

  • the tall white flowers,
  • visible tonight in the darkened garden,
  • and there was something else I wanted to tell
  • something about the warm orange light
  • in the windows of the house,
  • but now I am wondering if you are even listening
  • and why I bother to tell you these things
  • that will never make a difference,
  • flecks of ash, tiny chips of ice.
  • But this is all I want to do
  • tell you that up in the woods
  • a few night birds were calling,
  • the grass was cold and wet on my bare feet,
  • and that at one point, the moon,
  • looking like the top of Shakespeares

Orange- Simile
Poems for Blok, 1 by Marina Tsvetaeva Your name
is abird in my hand, a piece of ice on my
tongue. The lips' quick opening. Your namefive
letters. A ball caught in flight, a silver bell
in my mouth. A stone thrown into a silent lake
isthe sound of your name. The light click of
hooves at night your name. Your name at my
temple shrill click of a cocked gun. Your
nameimpossible kiss on my eyes, the chill of
closed eyelids. Your namea kiss of snow. Blue
gulp of icy spring water. With your namesleep
Now try writing a metaphor sequence Complete the
following in your journal. Pick a noun Your
name is. Your face is Your car is Your dog
is Your mom is Your friend is Now try to
write FIVE metaphors that directly compare your
noun to another noun.
Personification Comparing the action/idea/emotion
etc. of something non-human to something
human. Examples The podium proudly stood in
front of the class room. The fire rushed back
into every closet and felt of the clothes that
hung there.
Under the Harvest Moon by Carl Sandburg Under
the harvest moon, When the soft silver Drips
shimmering Over the garden nights, Death, the
gray mocker, Comes and whispers to you As a
beautiful friend Who remembers. Under the
summer roses When the flagrant crimson Lurks in
the dusk Of the wild red leaves, Love, with
little hands, Comes and touches you With a
thousand memories, And asks you Beautiful,
unanswerable questions.
Blue personification
Apple Pies by Ms. Klanderman I like how she could
peel the skin of each apple so it came off in one
long crimson strand Orange simile like
Christmas ribbon, Blue personification and
the way the kitchen walls Green sensory detail
and/or clung to the cinnamon smell visual
imagery three days later, and the way the oven
sighed the breath of the baking crust Id see her
roll out to the thickness of the old silver
dollars she kept in the jewelry box next to her
bed. Shed scoop the sliced apples each shaped in
a fruity grin wet with sugar into the tin bed of
the pan and cover it with a blanket of
dough, then tuck it in slowly turning and
pinching until it was sealed, her tongue stuck
into the corner of her mouth, flour like a line
of latitude printed across the front of her red
sweatshirt. I like how shed bend her
knees, those knobby bumps poking from
cut-offs, as she watched her creation
born through the thick glass of the oven door.
flowing out like endless rain into a paper
cupThey slither wildly as they slip away across
the universePools of sorrow, waves of joy are
drifting through my open mindPossessing and
caressing meJai Guru Deva OMNothing's gonna
change my world x4Images of broken light which
dance before me like a million eyesThey call me
on and on across the universeThoughts meander
like a restless wind inside a letter boxThey
tumble blindly as they make their way across the
universeJai Guru Deva OMNothing's gonna change
my world x4Sounds of laughter shades of life
are ringing through my open earsInciting and
inviting meLimitless undying love which shines
around me like a million sunsIt calls me on and
on, across the universeJai Guru Deva OM
Fog by Carl Sandburg The fog comes out on
little cat feet. It sits looking over harbor and
city on silent haunches and then moves on.
The easiest way to add personification is 1.
To give the non-human thing an emotion, state of
being or quality that humans have From There
Will Come Soft Rains by Ray Bradbury The clock
screamed its morning alarm as if it were afraid
nobody could hear it. From The Victims by
Sharon Olds The black noses of your shoes with
their large pores. From How it Is by Maxine
Kumin The dog at the center of my life
recognizes/ youve come to visit, hes
ecstatic. From Feeding Time by Maxine
Kumin Horses are waiting./Each enters his box/in
the order theyve all/agreed on,cat supervises
from the molding cove.
2. Make it do something it cannot (use an action
verb) From Apple Pies by Ms. K the oven
sighed the breath of the baking crust From
Sonnet 18 by William Shakespeare Nor shall
death brag thou wander'st in his shade,When in
eternal lines to time thou grow'st, From Lines
for Winter by Mark Strand tell yourself what
you know which is nothing but the tune your
bones play From The Round by Stanley Kunitz I
saw light kissthe silk of the roses From
Across the Universe by Lennon/McCartney Sounds
of laughter shades of life are ringing through my
open earsInciting and inviting me
  • 3. Imbed it in a simile or metaphor
  • From Across the Universe written by Lennon and
  • Thoughts meander like a restless wind (simile)
  • From Under the Harvest Moon by Carl Sandburg
  • Death, the gray mocker, (metaphor)
  • From The Derelict by Sharon Olds
  • blond beard like a sign of beauty and power.
  • From Under a Harvest Moon by Carl Sandburg
  • Comes and whispers to you As a beautiful friend
    Who remembers. (metaphor)

Bermuda by Billy Collins When we walk down the
bleached-out wooden stairs to the beach and lie
on our backs on the blue and white chaises near
the edge of the water on this dot in the
atlas, this single button on the blazer of the
sea, we come about as close as a man and woman
can to doing nothing. All morning long we watch
the clouds roll overhead or close our eyes and
do the lazy back-and-forth talk, our voices
flattened by the drone of surf, our words
tumbling oddly in the wind. The white sand
heats up as one of us points out the snout of a
pig on the horizon, and higher up a gaping
alligator poised to eat a smaller cloud. See
how that one is a giant head, like the devil
wearing glasses you say, but my eyes are shut
against the sun and I only hear your
words, softened and warped by the sea

Symbols as thematic word choice Symbols are
words, ideas etc. used to represent something
else or an idea. Symbols are used often in
poetry. A word, a phrase or the whole poem could
be a symbol.
The Challenge of the Earth Worm By Mrs.
Klanderman Hard, heavy drops knocked on soggy
earthen doors, beckoning them to come forth like
ants toward a sticky chunk of candy. As I run on
pavement wet with rain that finally got tired of
graying my day, they sprawl themselves out, brown
tubes of life slithering, until car tires squirt
their essence out onto grey pave. When I was
young I saved them, my hands thick with their
milky slime, Id cup slimy, brown
bodies, writhing in protest and toss them lightly
onto grass, only to see them crawl right back
out. My toes are wet through my shoes, I can feel
their shriveled, pale skin.I pound on, feet like
giant stamps dodging worms stretching pale
pinkish grey bodies, like stick straight varicose
veins slowly crossing the road. I read that worms
can live under water but the road is their
Everest they need to traverse. Most will never
make it, but I think thats exactly why they try.
The Cure by Ginger Andrews Lying around all
daywith some strange new deep blueweekend funk,
I'm not really asleepwhen my sister callsto say
she's just hung upfrom talking with Aunt
Berthawho is 89 and ill but managingto take
care of Uncle Frankwho is completely bed
ridden.Aunt Bert saysit's snowing there in
Arkansas,on Catfish Lane, and she hasn't
been able to walk out to their mailbox.She's
been sufferingfrom a bad case of the
mulleygrubs. The cure for the mulleygrubs,she
tells my sister,is to get up and bake a cake.If
that doesn't do it, put on a red dress.
  • Look at the similes in this poem.
  • What do you think the similes represent about
  • the symbolism in this poem?

A Dream Deferred by Langston Hughes
What happens to a dream deferred? Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun? Or fester like a
sore-- And then run? Does it stink like rotten
meat? Or crust and sugar over-like a syrupy
sweet? Maybe it just sags like a heavy load. Or
does it explode?
Answer this question in your journal A Dream
Deferred symbolizes
Look at the similes, imagery and metaphors in
this poem. What do you think they represent
about the symbolism in this poem?
The Guild by Sharon Olds Every night, as my
grandfather sat in the darkened room in front of
the fire, the liquor like fire in his hand, his
eye glittering meaninglessly in the light from
the flames, his glass eye baleful and stony, a
young man sat with him in silence and darkness, a
college boy with white skin, unlined, a
narrow beautiful face, a broad domed forehead,
and eyes amber as the resin from trees too young
to be cut yet. This was his son, who sat, an
apprentice, night after night, his glass of
coals next to the old mans glass of coals, and
he drank when the old man drank, and he
learned the craft of oblivionthe young man not
yet cruel, his hair dark as the soil that feeds
the trees roots, that son who would come to be
in his turn better at this than the teacher, the
apprentice who would pass his master in cruelty
and oblivion, drinking steadily by the flames in
the blackness, that young man my father.
Answer this question in your journal The
Guild symbolizes
Click the link below to read the lesson of the
moth by Don Marquis. After reading it, what do
you think the poem symbolizes?
Sounds of Poetry as word choice Poets can pick
certain words to make their poetry sound a
certain way. Alliteration- Repetitive
consonant sounds at the beginnings of words
Examples Peter Piper picked a peck Lazy
living led Leonard to loath labor Purpose
gives words pep and pop by emphasizing their
Assonance- Repetitive vowel sounds within words
Examples Avid fan in the grand stand Tony
dropped a bowling ball on his toe. Purpose
helps making your words flow in a musically
pleasing way.
Onomatopoeia- Words that sound like what they are
describing Examples splash, splat, pop, woof,
meow Purpose It realistically describes the
sound using the real sound.
Rhyme-The repetition of the accented vowel sounds
and all succeeding sounds Examples- mouse/house,
basement/casement, June/spoon Purposes- Rhyme
gives specific flow, can connect ideas together.
Typically seen in childrens poetry, humor or
light verse (Hallmark cards).
Rhyme Scheme A way to label a pattern of rhyme
occurring throughout a poem. The cat was really
big. A He ate lots of mice. B He liked to wear
a wig. A He chewed on some dice. B Some poems
require a certain rhyme scheme (limericks and
sonnets for example.) is website
for rhyming.
Examples of Rhyming Poems Ogden Nash-The King of
funny rhyme Celery Celery, raw Develops the
jaw, But celery, stewed, Is more quietly
chewed. The Wasp The wasp and all his numerous
family I look upon as a major calamity. He
throws open his nest with prodigality, But I
distrust his waspitality.
Whatif by Shel Silverstein Last night, while I
lay thinking here,some Whatifs crawled inside my
earand pranced and partied all night longand
sang their same old Whatif songWhatif I'm dumb
in school?Whatif they've closed the swimming
pool?Whatif I get beat up?Whatif there's poison
in my cup?Whatif I start to cry?Whatif I get
sick and die?Whatif I flunk that test?Whatif
green hair grows on my chest?
Whatif nobody likes me?Whatif a bolt of
lightning strikes me?Whatif I don't grow
taller?Whatif my head starts getting
smaller?Whatif the fish won't bite?Whatif the
wind tears up my kite?Whatif they start a
war?Whatif my parents get divorced?Whatif the
bus is late?Whatif my teeth don't grow in
straight?Whatif I tear my pants?Whatif I never
learn to dance?Everything seems well, and
thenthe nighttime Whatifs strike again!