Thursday, November 30 Today’s Journal: Now that we have read a few different types of poetry, and learned a few different forms of figurative language types, what is your favorite type of poem? Who is your favorite poet? Is it you? Why or Why not?

Today’s Agenda  Journal  Epics, Ballads, Odes, and Sonnets  Writing exercise  Closing poem….

Ballads  Ballads – a folk song that tells an exciting story in rhyming poetic form. Some of the most widely known ballads are: –“The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald” –“Major Tom” –“John Henry” –And one of my favorites – “Casey at the Bat”

“Casey at the Bat” by Ernest Lawrence Thayer The outlook wasn’t brilliant for the Mudville nine that day: The score stood four to two, with but one inning more to play, And then when Cooney died at first, and Barrows did the same, A pall-like silence fell upon the patrons of the game. A straggling few got up to go in deep despair. The rest Clung to that hope which springs eternal in the human breast; They thought, “If only Casey could but get a whack at that- We’d put up even money now, with Casey at the bat. But Flynn preceded Casey, as did also Jimmy Blake, And the former was a hoodoo, while the latter was cake; So upon that stricken multitude grim melancholy sat, For there seemed little chance of Casey getting to the bat.

But Flynn let drive a single, to the wonderment of all, And Blake, the much despised, tore the cover off the ball; And when the dust had lifted, and men saw what had occurred, There sat Jimmy safe at second and Flynn a-hugging third. Then from five thousand throats and more there rose a lusty yell; It rumbled through the valley, it rattled in the dell; It pounded on the mountain and recoiled upon the flat, For Casey, mighty Casey, was advancing to the bat. There was ease in Casey’s manner as he stepped into his place; There was pride in Casey’s bearing and a smile lit Casey’s face. And when, responding to the cheers, he lightly doffed his hat, No stranger in the crowd could doubt ‘twas Casey at the bat. Ten thousand eyes were on him as he rubbed his hands with dirt; Five thousand tongues applauded when he wiped them on his shirt; Then while the writhing pitcher ground the ball into his hip Defiance flashed in Casey’s eye, a sneer curled Casey’s lip.

And now the leather-covered sphere came hurtling through the air, And Casey stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there. Close by the sturdy batsman the ball unheeded sped- “That ain’t my style,” said Casey. “Strike one!” the umpire said. From the benches, black with people, there went a muffled roar, Like the beating of the storm-waves on a stern and distant shore; “Kill him! Kill the umpire!” shouted someone on the stand; And it’s likely they’d have killed him had not Casey raised his hand. With a smile of Christian charity great Casey’s visage shone; He stilled the rising tumult; he bade the game go on; He signaled to the pitcher, and once more the dun sphere flew; But Casey still ignored it and the umpire said, “Strike two!” “Fraud!” cried the maddened thousands, and echo answered “Fraud!” But scornful look from Casey and the audience was awed. They saw his face grow stern and cold, they saw his muscles strain, And they knew that Casey wouldn’t let that ball go by again.

The sneer is gone from Casey’s lip, his teeth are clenched in hate, He pounds with cruel violence his bat upon the plate; And now the pitcher holds the ball, and now he lets it go, And now the air is shattered by the force of Casey’s blow. Oh, somewhere in this favoured land the sun is shining bright, The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light; And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout, But there is no joy in Mudville-mighty Casey has struck out.

Epic  An epic is a heroic story, often dealing with deities and mythological beings. They usually start with the hero in the middle of some sort of action or conflict.  Homer’s Iliad and The Odyssey are two of the oldest epics around.  Beowulf and The Green Knight might also fit into this category of poetry

Ode  The loftiest (stuffiest) type of poetry.  The ode is a lyrical verse with a fixed purpose or theme presented in a very dignified manner.

An Ode by Joseph Addison The spacious firmament on high, With all the blue ethereal sky, And spangled heavens, a shining frame, Their great Original proclaim. The unwearied sun from day to day Does his Creator’s power display, And publishes to every land The work of an almighty Hand. Soon as the evening shades prevail, The moon takes up the wondrous tale, And nightly, to the listening earth, Repeats the story of her birth; Whilst all the stars that round her burn, And all the planets in their turn, Confirm the tidings as they roll And spread the truth from pole to pole.

What thou in solemn silence all Move round the dark terrestrial ball? What though nor real voice nor sound Amid their radiant orbs be found? In reason’s ear they all rejoice, And utter forth a glorious voice, Forever singing as they shine, “The Hand that made us is divine!”

Sonnet  Sonnet - is a fourteen-line poem in iambic pentameter with a carefully patterned rhyme scheme.  usually rhymes abbaabba, but which may sometimes be abbacddc

Sonnet CXXXVIII By William Shakespeare When my love swears that she is made of truth I do believe her, though I know she lies, That she might think me some untutor'd youth, Unlearned in the world's false subtleties. {(First quatrain; note the puns and the intellectual games: [I know she lies, so I believe her so that she will believe me to be young and untutored)} Thus vainly thinking that she thinks me young, Although she knows my days are past the best, Although she knows my days are past the best, Simply I credit her false speaking tongue: Simply I credit her false speaking tongue: On both sides thus is simple truth suppress'd. On both sides thus is simple truth suppress'd. { Second quatrain: [Well of course I know that she doesn't really think I'm young, but I have to pretend to believe her so that she will pretend that I'm young]}

But wherefore says she not she is unjust? And wherefore say not I that I am old? O, love's best habit is in seeming trust, And age in love loves not to have years told: { Third quatrain: [so why don't we both fess up? because love depends upon trust and upon youth]} Therefore I lie with her and she with me, And in our faults by lies we flatter'd be. { Final couplet, and resolution: [we lie to ourselves and to each other, so that we may flatter ourselves that we are young, honest, and in love]. Note especially the puns.}

Assignment We have now briefly touched on the basic different types of poems, figurative language, and read a few.  You will now find a poem.  Write a paper on this poem, using figurative language to describe this poem, and why you chose this poem over any other.  Due Monday, Dec. 11.  Closing Poem

“When I have fears that I may cease to be”…by John Keats When I have fears that I may cease to be Before my pen has glean’d my teeming brain, Before high piled books, in charact’re, Hold like rich garners the full-ripen’d grain; When I behold, upon the night’s starr’d face, Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance, And think that I may never live to trace Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance; And when I feel fair creature of an hour! That I shall never look upon thee more, Never have relish in the facery power Of unreflecting love! – then on the shore Of the wide world I stand alone, and think Till Love and Fame to nothingness do sink.

Thank you!!! I have enjoyed teaching you these simple poetry lessons this past few days. I hope you had fun, learned a little, and saw that poetry can be painless and easy.