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POETRY A thousand words are worth a picture!
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WHY CARE ABOUT DEPRESSED DEAD GUYS? May I introduce you to Mr. Keating, who can answer that question…
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Discussion and Journal What is Mr. Keating trying to explain to his students? What is passion? Why do we need it to read and Write Poetry? “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.” -Mr. Keating
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What is Poetry? --------- Poetry is language that says more than ordinary language and says it with fewer words and in less space. Poets use language in a special way. Like other writers, poets choose words for their sense, but they also choose words for what they hint at or suggest, for the way they sound, and for the words and pictures they create. Ordinary language makes sense. Poetry makes sense--and sound, and rhythm, and music, and vision.
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Time to Compare PROSE (regular writing) -------- - no rhythm/beat - written across the page (no columns) - divided into paragraphs - does not rhyme - sometimes uses expressive language Verse (poetry) --------- - definite rhythm/beat -arranged in columns -divided into stanzas -sometimes rhymes -uses expressive language
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passion! !!! Let’s look at some poetry and see if we can find the passion! !!!
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If If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you; If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, But make allowance for their doubting too; If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies, Or, being hated, don't give way to hating, And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise; If you can dream - and not make dreams your master; If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim; If you can meet with triumph and disaster And treat those two imposters just the same; If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, Or watch the things you gave your life to broken, And stoop and build 'em up with worn out tools; If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you; If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, But make allowance for their doubting too; If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies, Or, being hated, don't give way to hating, And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise; If you can dream - and not make dreams your master; If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim; If you can meet with triumph and disaster And treat those two imposters just the same; If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, Or watch the things you gave your life to broken, And stoop and build 'em up with worn out tools;
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If you can make one heap of all your winnings And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss, And lose, and start again at your beginnings And never breath a word about your loss; If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew To serve your turn long after they are gone, And so hold on when there is nothing in you Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on"; If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch; If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you; If all men count with you, but none too much; If you can fill the unforgiving minute With sixty seconds' worth of distance run - Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it, And - which is more - you'll be a Man my son! Rudyard Kipling If you can make one heap of all your winnings And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss, And lose, and start again at your beginnings And never breath a word about your loss; If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew To serve your turn long after they are gone, And so hold on when there is nothing in you Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on"; If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch; If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you; If all men count with you, but none too much; If you can fill the unforgiving minute With sixty seconds' worth of distance run - Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it, And - which is more - you'll be a Man my son! Rudyard Kipling
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Woman Work I've got the children to tend The clothes to mend The floor to mop The food to shop Then the chicken to fry The baby to dry I got company to feed The garden to weed I've got shirts to press The tots to dress The can to be cut I gotta clean up this hut Then see about the sick And the cotton to pick. Shine on me, sunshine Rain on me, rain Fall softly, dewdrops And cool my brow again. Storm, blow me from here With your fiercest wind Let me float across the sky 'Til I can rest again. Fall gently, snowflakes Cover me with white Cold icy kisses and Let me rest tonight. Sun, rain, curving sky Mountain, oceans, leaf and stone Star shine, moon glow You're all that I can call my own. Maya Angelou
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An Ode Two the Spelling Chequer Prays the Lord for the spelling chequer That came with our pea sea! Mecca mistake and it puts you rite Its so easy to ewes, you sea. I never used to no, was it e before eye? (Four sometimes its eye before e.) But now I've discovered the quay to success It's as simple as won, too, free! Sew watt if you lose a letter or two, The whirled won't come two an end! Can't you sea? It's as plane as the knows on yore face S. Chequer's my very best friend I've always had trubble with letters that double "Is it one or to S's?" I'd wine But now, as I've tolled you this chequer is grate And its hi thyme you got won, like mine. Janet E. Byford
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Homework! Oh, Homework! by Jack Prelutsky Homework! Oh, homework! I hate you! You stink! I wish I could wash you away in the sink. If only a bomb would explode you to bits. Homework! Oh, homework! You're giving me fits. I'd rather take baths with a man-eating shark, or wrestle a lion alone in the dark, eat spinach and liver, pet ten porcupines, than tackle the homework my teacher assigns. Homework! Oh, homework! You're last on my list. I simply can't see why you even exist. If you just disappeared it would tickle me pink. Homework! Oh, homework! I hate you! You stink!
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