Tunes Tuesday Reminder: You have a Vocabulary Workshop Unit 5 quiz on Friday!

Rhapsody in Blue What story is being told? What images come to mind when you hear this music? If this was a soundtrack to a scene in a film, what would be happening?

How does this relate to poetry? Poetry is emotional, just like music What you “hear” in a poem will not always be what someone else hears. Poetry speaks to everyone differently

Poetry Official definition: literature in rhythmic form Concentrated, powerful language ~ EVERY word has meaning and significance Poetry is really indefinable a.) It doesn’t have to rhyme b.) It doesn’t have to be short (Take the Odyssey for example!) c.) It doesn’t have to be in stanzas

What is Poetry? "The best words in the best order." Samuel Taylor Coleridge "Poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings." William Wordsworth

“We don't read and write poetry because it's cute “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. 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.”

You are responsible for knowing these words You should be able to identify them in a poem, explain their function within the poem, and you should be able to write them as well. Which ones don’t you know? What do you need to go over?

Sonnets Sonnets are known to be the quintessential form of love poetry ABAB CDCD EFEF GG is the rhyme scheme Most famous sonnet writer was Shakespeare, but there have been many others. Shakespeare numbered instead of titled his sonnets The couplet (GG) is often very significant to the meaning of the poem. Pay attention to those last two lines!

A Sonnet You Should Recognize Two households, both alike in dignity,     In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,     From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,     Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.     From forth the fatal loins of these two foes     A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life;     Whole misadventured piteous overthrows     Do with their death bury their parents' strife.     The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love,     And the continuance of their parents' rage,     Which, but their children's end, nought could remove,     Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage;     The which if you with patient ears attend,     What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend. Not perfect rhymes all the time

ROMEO - If I profane with my unworthiest hand      This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this:      My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand      To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss. JULIET - Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,      Which mannerly devotion shows in this;      For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch,      And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss. ROMEO - Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too? JULIET - Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer. ROMEO - O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do;      They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair. JULIET - Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake. ROMEO - Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take.

Sonnet 116 Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments. Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove. O no, it is an ever-fixèd mark That looks on tempests and is never shaken; It is the star to every wand'ring bark, Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken. Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks Within his bending sickle's compass come; Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of doom. If this be error and upon me proved, I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

Modern Translation I would not admit that anything could interfere with the union of two people who love each other. Love that alters with changing circumstances is not love, nor if it bends from its firm state when someone tries to destroy it. Oh no, it's an eternally fixed point that watches storms but is never itself shaken by them. It is the star by which every lost ship can be guided: one can calculate it's distance but not gauge its quality. Love doesn't depend on Time, although the rosy lips and cheeks of youth eventually come within the compass of Time's sickle. Love doesn't alter as the days and weeks go by but endures until death. If I'm wrong about this then I've never written anything and no man has ever loved.

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 damasked, 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.

What do you think is the most POWERFUL word in the English language What do you think is the most POWERFUL word in the English language? Why? Warm-Up

They could all be gone tomorrow... You are Beautiful Altrusim They could all be gone tomorrow... Tread Gently Fight World Hunger Be Colorblind

One World Poem

John Donne (21 January 1572 – 31 March 1631) British Started his career with more “suggestive” poetry (like “The Flea”) and satirical writings Later made a transition to a more religious tone after a religious conversion

Divine Meditation 10 (Death Be Not Proud)

Dylan Thomas (27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953) Thomas watched his father grow weak and frail with old age. Thus, in this poem he tries to convince his father to fight against imminent death.

“Do Not Go Gentle into that Good Night”

Do not stand at my grave and weep Do not stand at my grave and weep I am not there. I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow. I am the diamond glints on snow. I am the sunlight on ripened grain. I am the gentle autumn rain. When you awaken in the morning's hush I am the swift uplifting rush Of quiet birds in circled flight. I am the soft stars that shine at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry; I am not there. I did not die. Mary Elizabeth Frye

"If Today was Your Last Day"