Shel Silverstein (1930-1999) A truly unique and multi-faceted artist, Shel Silverstein was a renowned poet, playwright, illustrator, screenwriter, and songwriter. Best known for his immensely popular children’s books including The Giving Tree, Falling Up, and A Light in the Attic, Silverstein has delighted tens of millions of readers around the world, becoming one of the most popular and best-loved children's authors of all time.

Messy Room Whosever room this is should be ashamed! His underwear is hanging on the lamp. His raincoat is there in the overstuffed chair, And the chair is becoming quite mucky and damp. His workbook is wedged in the window, His sweater's been thrown on the floor. His scarf and one ski are beneath the TV, And his pants have been carelessly hung on the door. His books are all jammed in the closet, His vest has been left in the hall. A lizard named Ed is asleep in his bed, And his smelly old sock has been stuck to the wall. Whosever room this is should be ashamed! Donald or Robert or Willie or-- Huh? You say it's mine? Oh, dear, I knew it looked familiar!

Making Connections How is the poem “Messy Room” appealing to a young audience? What type of poems/writing do you find most interesting? Be prepared to share your opinions!

Born in Joplin, Missouri, James Langston Hughes was the great-great-grandson of Charles Henry Langston (brother of John Mercer Langston, the first Black American to be elected to public office). He attended Central High School in Cleveland, Ohio, where he began writing poetry in the eighth grade. His father would discourage him from pursuing writing as a career, in favor of something 'more practical'. Langston's tuition fees to Columbia University were paid on the grounds that he study engineering. After a while, he dropped out of the degree course, but continued to write poetry. His first published poem, The Negro Speaks of Rivers, was also one of his most famous, appearing in Brownie's Book Langston Hughes (1902-1967)

Mother to Son Well, son, I'll tell you: Life for me ain't been no crystal stair. It's had tacks in it, And splinters, And boards torn up, And places with no carpet on the floora Bare. But all the time I'se been a-climbin' on, And reachin' landin's, And turnin' corners, And sometimes goin' in the dark Where there ain't been no light. So, boy, don't you turn back. Don't you set down on the steps. 'Cause you finds it's kinder hard. Don't you fall nowâ For I'se still goin', honey, I'se still climbin', And life for me ain't been no crystal stair.

Partner Discussion: This is a very powerful poem, that was written during a time when many people still believed that it was acceptable to judge people based on the color of their skin. What is the message that this poem is trying to relay about racism, and life in general?

Maya Angelou 1928-2014 Maya Angelou was born Marguerite Johnson in St. Louis, Missouri, on April 4, 1928. She grew up in St. Louis and Stamps, Arkansas. She was an author, poet, historian, songwriter, playwright, dancer, stage and screen producer, director, performer, singer, and civil rights activist. Maya was also the first black female director in Hollywood. In 1959, at the request of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., Maya Angelou became the northern coordinator for the Southern Christian Leadership Conference. Maya Angelou’s accomplishments and successes are too numerous to even list in a short biographical excerpt!

Still I Rise You may write me down in history With your bitter, twisted lies, You may trod me in the very dirt But still, like dust, I'll rise. Does my sassiness upset you? Why are you beset with gloom? 'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells Pumping in my living room. Just like moons and like suns, With the certainty of tides, Just like hopes springing high, Still I'll rise. Did you want to see me broken? Bowed head and lowered eyes? Shoulders falling down like teardrops. Weakened by my soulful cries. Does my haughtiness offend you? Don't you take it awful hard 'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines Diggin' in my own back yard. You may shoot me with your words, You may cut me with your eyes, You may kill me with your hatefulness, But still, like air, I'll rise. Does my sexiness upset you? Does it come as a surprise That I dance like I've got diamonds At the meeting of my thighs? Out of the huts of history's shame I rise Up from a past that's rooted in pain I rise I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide, Welling and swelling I bear in the tide. Leaving behind nights of terror and fear I rise Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear I rise Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave, I am the dream and the hope of the slave. I rise I rise I rise.

Still I Rise is full of descriptive simile's: Some Simile’s Still I Rise is full of descriptive simile's: “But still, like dust, I’ll rise.” “Just like hopes springing up high, Still I’ll rise.” “But still, like air, I’ll rise.” Write 3 simile’s that stay with the “I’ll rise” theme.

Robert Frost 1874-1963 Robert Lee Frost was an American poet. He is highly regarded for his realistic depictions of rural life and his command of American colloquial speech. His work frequently employed settings from rural life in New England in the early twentieth century, using them to examine complex social and philosophical themes. A popular and often-quoted poet, Frost was honored frequently during his lifetime, receiving four Pulitzer Prizes for Poetry. Frost was not only a writer, but a farmer and teacher as well. He studied at Harvard, and when he was 86, he spoke and performed a reading of his poetry at the inauguration of President John F. Kennedy on January 20, 1961. Some two years later, on January 29, 1963, he passed away. Robert Lee Frost was an American poet. He is highly regarded for his realistic depictions of rural life and his command of American colloquial speech. His work frequently employed settings from rural life in New England in the early twentieth century, using them to examine complex social and philosophical themes. A popular and often-quoted poet, Frost was honored frequently during his lifetime, receiving four Pulitzer Prizes for Poetry. 


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.

“I took the one less traveled by” Think DEEPER “I took the one less traveled by” 1) With a partner, discuss the significance of this line? 2) Think about a time that you have taken the road less travelled, and share your experience with your partner. Be prepared to share with the class. 3) With your partner, write out a situation that effectively conveys the idea of “The Road Not Taken”

Roald Dahl 1916-1990 British novelist, short story writer, fighter pilot and screenwriter. His books are mostly fantasy, and full of imagination. They are always a little cruel, but never without humor - a thrilling mixture of the grotesque and comic. A frequent motif is, that people are not, what they appear to be. Mary Maloney in "Lamb to the Slaughter", for example, is not a friendly widow, but a clever murderess. In his stories, the background is perfectly worked out: details are very close to reality. 
Roald Dahl didn't only write books for grown-ups, but also for children, such as "James and the Giant Peach", "Fantastic Mr. Fox" and "The Gremlins". About his children's stories he said once: "I make my points by exaggerating wildly. That's the only way to get through to children." Roald Dahl is perhaps the most popular and best-selling children's book author. However, these stories are so sarcastic and humorous, that also adults appreciate reading them.

IT ROTS THE SENSE IN THE HEAD. IT KILLS IMAGINATION DEAD IT ROTS THE SENSE IN THE HEAD! IT KILLS IMAGINATION DEAD! IT CLOGS AND CLUTTERS UP THE MIND! IT MAKES A CHILD SO DULL AND BLIND HE CAN NO LONGER UNDERSTAND A FANTASY, A FAIRYLAND! HIS BRAIN BECOMES AS SOFT AS CHEESE! HIS POWERS OF THINKING RUST AND FREEZE! HE CANNOT THINK -- HE ONLY SEES! 'All right!' you'll cry. 'All right!' you'll say, 'But if we take the set away, What shall we do to entertain Our darling children? Please explain!' We'll answer this by asking you, 'What used the darling ones to do? 'How used they keep themselves contented Before this monster was invented?' Have you forgotten? Don't you know? We'll say it very loud and slow: THEY USED TO READ! They'd READ and READ, AND READ and READ, and then proceed To READ some more. Great Scott! Gadzooks! One half their lives was reading books! Oh yes, we know it keeps them still, 
They don't climb out the window sill, 
They never fight or kick or punch, 
They leave you free to cook the lunch 
And wash the dishes in the sink -- 
But did you ever stop to think, 
To wonder just exactly what 
This does to your beloved tot? 
IT ROTS THE SENSE IN THE HEAD! 
IT KILLS IMAGINATION DEAD! 
IT CLOGS AND CLUTTERS UP THE MIND! 
IT MAKES A CHILD SO DULL AND BLIND 
HE CAN NO LONGER UNDERSTAND 
A FANTASY, A FAIRYLAND! 
HIS BRAIN BECOMES AS SOFT AS CHEESE! 
HIS POWERS OF THINKING RUST AND FREEZE! 
HE CANNOT THINK -- HE ONLY SEES! 
'All right!' you'll cry. 'All right!' you'll say, 
'But if we take the set away, 
What shall we do to entertain 
Our darling children? Please explain!' 
We'll answer this by asking you, 
'What used the darling ones to do? 
'How used they keep themselves contented 
Before this monster was invented?' 
Have you forgotten? Don't you know? 
 TELEVISION The most important thing we've learned, So far as children are concerned, Is never, NEVER, NEVER let Them near your television set -- Or better still, just don't install The idiotic thing at all. In almost every house we've been, We've watched them gaping at the screen. They loll and slop and lounge about, And stare until their eyes pop out. (Last week in someone's place we saw A dozen eyeballs on the floor.) They sit and stare and stare and sit Until they're hypnotised by it, Until they're absolutely drunk With all that shocking ghastly junk. Oh yes, we know it keeps them still, They don't climb out the window sill, They never fight or kick or punch, They leave you free to cook the lunch And wash the dishes in the sink -- But did you ever stop to think, To wonder just exactly what This does to your beloved tot?

Books cluttered up the nursery floor Books cluttered up the nursery floor! And in the bedroom, by the bed, More books were waiting to be read! Such wondrous, fine, fantastic tales Of dragons, gypsies, queens, and whales And treasure isles, and distant shores Where smugglers rowed with muffled oars, And pirates wearing purple pants, And sailing ships and elephants, And cannibals crouching 'round the pot, Stirring away at something hot. (It smells so good, what can it be? Good gracious, it's Penelope.) The younger ones had Beatrix Potter With Mr. Tod, the dirty rotter, And Squirrel Nutkin, Pigling Bland, And Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle and- Just How The Camel Got His Hump, And How the Monkey Lost His Rump, And Mr. Toad, and bless my soul, There's Mr. Rat and Mr. Mole- Oh, books, what books they used to know, Those children living long ago! So please, oh please, we beg, we pray, Go throw your TV set away, And in its place you can install A lovely bookshelf on the wall. Then fill the shelves with lots of books, Ignoring all the dirty looks, The screams and yells, the bites and kicks, And children hitting you with sticks- Fear not, because we promise you That, in about a week or two Of having nothing else to do, They'll now begin to feel the need Of having something to read. And once they start -- oh boy, oh boy! You watch the slowly growing joy That fills their hearts. They'll grow so keen They'll wonder what they'd ever seen In that ridiculous machine, That nauseating, foul, unclean, Repulsive television screen! And later, each and every kid Will love you more for what you did.

Pet peeve poem (Say that 5 times fast!) Roald Dahl tends to write poems with humor, sarcasm and enthusiasm. One of the reasons that they are so entertaining, is because of the topics he chooses; which leads us to our next assignment… Today you will write a humorous poem about a “pet peeve”. Get out a piece of paper and a pencil, because it’s time to brainstorm as many of your pet peeves as possible! Poem Must be: written about an “everyday” kind of topic (ex. Homework, cell phones in public, loud people in the movie theatre, open-mouthed gum chewers…) in AABBCCDDEE… rhyming pattern proofread and edited for correct spelling, punctuation and grammar