Module 6 Poetry Review: Paul B. Janeczko
Poetry 5663
Diana Stephens
Wherever Home Begins: 100 Contemporary Poems
Wherever Home Begins is remarkable, first of all, in the arrangement of the poems collected by Paul B. Janeczko. Emphasizing the theme of place and its importance to us, this editor finely tunes our attention by grouping the poems into clusters, such as garage poems, mining poems, Texas poems, mountain poems, farming poems, street poems, etc., making the reader feel as though she is reading a travelogue, but never boring, always finding a nugget of emotion, or a slip of surprise at each description.
It was interesting that while there is an unsentimental feeling in exploring all these places, emotions still received treatment while relating to a place. Some of the places were happy memories, such as “Dragging Broadway” and “Montauk and the World Revealed Through the Magic of New Orleans, while many others were sad or strongly emotional, as in “In the Neo-natal Intensive Care Unit” or “Moving” which ends plaintively (while offering the thoughtful title), “Now, wheels, roll us home, /wherever home begins. Give us /a good journey /and a safe forgetting.”
There was humor as well, appropriately interspersed to offer a light touch. I loved “In the Amish Bakery” with this image: “that goddamned trampoline” where “the whole blessed family /in their black topcoats and frocks, /their severe hair and beards, . . . so much flour dust and leaven- /leaping all together on their /stiff sweet legs toward heaven.” The nice rhyme and alliteration complete its humorous tone.
“Small Farms Disappearing in Tennessee” by Jim Wayne Miller was laugh-out-loud funny. At first, the reader thinks it will be a heart breaking story about “a whole farm family comes awake . . ./to find their farm’s been rolled up like a rug /with them inside it,” only to find out it’s actually tongue-in-cheek, “One missing farm was found intact at the head of a falling creek /in a recently published short story.”
The poetry is mostly unrhymed free verse, with strong imagery, figurative language, and alliteration. A good example of strong imagery is “Spirits” by Charles Harper Webb, evoking a nostalgic mood from the viewpoint of an Indian chief. The area now known as L.A. is negatively described, “They [spirits] slide through alleys where pale boys /with hair in warrior crests fight /for needles to jab in their skinny arms,” in order to establish a contrast with the past, “Where are the owls, they want to know- /the red-tailed hawks that soared over /their hunts, the tortoises, bobcats, /jackrabbits, skunks who gave them power, /were their kin in a boundless world /where everywhere was home.” The mood and images create powerful backward look at a place, tying onto the book’s theme so nicely.
My favorite poet is the still the one with the best, most original and creative uses of figurative language. “Spruce Street, Berkeley,” by Naomi Shihab Nye, ponders what is place is like when a street is named for a tree. There, “it is right that flower /bloom purple and feel like cats, /that people are leaves drifting /downhill in morning fog.” (She cleverly places cats and fog in the same verse. I love how she plays with it.) “Everyone came outside to see /the moon setting like a perfect /orange mouth tipped up to heaven.”
An excellent extended metaphor, though dark, is Donald Justice’s six verse “Bus Stop,”: “Lights are burning /In quiet rooms /Where lives go on /Resembling ours.”
When I found I found the theme of light in six or eight poems stretched over fifteen pages, I exclaimed, again, at the how impeccably placed the poems are. Each one is such a gem, so carefully crafted, and then placed exactly where it can be amplified or echoed by the others. I did not realize how much skill is involved in arranging the poetry. I discovered, once again, that a collection, unremarkable in title, cover, and theme/content, can be a cache of delightful musings. He is much more masterful than I realized, this Janeczko!
Janeczko, Paul B. 1995. Wherever Home Begins: 100 Contemporary Poems. New York: Orchard Books.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Module 6 Poetry Break: Serious Poem
Module 6 Poetry Break: Serious Poem
Poetry 5663
Diana Stephens
“If I Could Go Back”
By Alma Fullerton
From Walking on Glass
Introduction: I have two poems to share with you today from this new verse novel, Walking on Glass by Alma Fullerton. It’s just been published. The first poem is called “If I Could Go Back.” I want to know, if you could change anything in history, what would it be?” (Accept all responses.) Listen to see if you hear any of your ideas in this poem.
“If I Could Go Back”
By Alma Fullerton
My teacher asks everyone,
If you could change
anything in history,
what would it be?
Kids say things like,
I’d prevent wars
or Bin Laden and Hitler
wouldn’t have been born.
Other kids nod their heads to agree.
When the teacher asks me,
I say,
“Four months ago,
I would have come home
five minutes earlier.”
Everyone looks away from me
like my face is on
sideways.
Extension: What are you thinking? (Wait for responses.) Could I have a volunteer who would read it again? What is it that happened at this house, do you think? What part of this poem do you like? Jot down in your journal some ideas about what you would like to change in history, and what you would like to change in your personal life. Those might be ideas for future poems.
Here’s another poem, the one the title comes from. I need a volunteer to help me read. We will each read alternate lines. I will read the first line, you will read the second line, and so on, to the end of the poem. See if it gives us any more information about what happened that day he wished he had come home five minutes earlier.
“Walking on Broken Glass”
If Mom came home,
things wouldn’t change.
Her mood would always flip
from bad to worse
in a matter of seconds,
and for the rest of our lives
Dad and I would
be walking on
shards of glass
from a broken
chandelier.
Extension: What are you thinking? What do you notice about the poem? (Accept all comments.) What do you think about the writer’s life? Why?
I will tell you one thing about this verse novel which you can read on the inside cover: his mother is in a suicide-induced coma.
Fullerton, Alma. 2007. Walking on Glass. New York: HarperCollins Publishers.
Poetry 5663
Diana Stephens
“If I Could Go Back”
By Alma Fullerton
From Walking on Glass
Introduction: I have two poems to share with you today from this new verse novel, Walking on Glass by Alma Fullerton. It’s just been published. The first poem is called “If I Could Go Back.” I want to know, if you could change anything in history, what would it be?” (Accept all responses.) Listen to see if you hear any of your ideas in this poem.
“If I Could Go Back”
By Alma Fullerton
My teacher asks everyone,
If you could change
anything in history,
what would it be?
Kids say things like,
I’d prevent wars
or Bin Laden and Hitler
wouldn’t have been born.
Other kids nod their heads to agree.
When the teacher asks me,
I say,
“Four months ago,
I would have come home
five minutes earlier.”
Everyone looks away from me
like my face is on
sideways.
Extension: What are you thinking? (Wait for responses.) Could I have a volunteer who would read it again? What is it that happened at this house, do you think? What part of this poem do you like? Jot down in your journal some ideas about what you would like to change in history, and what you would like to change in your personal life. Those might be ideas for future poems.
Here’s another poem, the one the title comes from. I need a volunteer to help me read. We will each read alternate lines. I will read the first line, you will read the second line, and so on, to the end of the poem. See if it gives us any more information about what happened that day he wished he had come home five minutes earlier.
“Walking on Broken Glass”
If Mom came home,
things wouldn’t change.
Her mood would always flip
from bad to worse
in a matter of seconds,
and for the rest of our lives
Dad and I would
be walking on
shards of glass
from a broken
chandelier.
Extension: What are you thinking? What do you notice about the poem? (Accept all comments.) What do you think about the writer’s life? Why?
I will tell you one thing about this verse novel which you can read on the inside cover: his mother is in a suicide-induced coma.
Fullerton, Alma. 2007. Walking on Glass. New York: HarperCollins Publishers.
Module 6 Poetry Break: Student Author
Module 6 Poetry Break: Student Author
Poetry 5663
Diana Stephens
“Pledge of Affection to a Nerd”
By Laura Tabor, age 16
From Falling Hard: 101 Love Poems by Teenagers, edited by Betsy Franco
Introduction: April is poetry month, and it is also spring, which many people say is the best season for falling in love. Do you agree? Who is in love right now? Who’s got a boyfriend/girlfriend, you’re in a relationship? Good. Okay, think about the last conversation you had, when you were actually together—no phone, email, or text conversations. Try to remember what you thought about while your boyfriend/girlfriend was talking. What do you notice while that person is talking to you? That’s what this poem is about, written by 16 year old Laura Tabor. Do you believe a person can really love a nerd? Listen!
“Pledge of Affection to a Nerd”
By Laura Tabor, age 16
I . . .
. . .drift, lazy, on the comforting breeze
as you rhythmically speak:
computer jargon.
. . .can’t get over how blue your eyes are:
talking about Star Wars.
. . .couldn’t be prouder of you as you recite:
forty-seven digits of pi.
. . .will listen, though I may never understand:
you beat the final level of Escape from Mordor!
. . .want to stay in your arms all evening while you talk about:
ancient war strategy, lunar eclipses, molecules . . .
whispering sweet algorithms in my ear.
Extension: What do you think about the poem? How is punctuation used in this poem? Which part do you like best? Which part(s) make the poem seem real? Could you write a love poem like this, where you alternate you think with what you hear?
Franco, Betsy, ed. (2008) Falling Hard: 100 Love Poems by Teenagers. Cambridge, Massachusetts: Candlewick Press.
Poetry 5663
Diana Stephens
“Pledge of Affection to a Nerd”
By Laura Tabor, age 16
From Falling Hard: 101 Love Poems by Teenagers, edited by Betsy Franco
Introduction: April is poetry month, and it is also spring, which many people say is the best season for falling in love. Do you agree? Who is in love right now? Who’s got a boyfriend/girlfriend, you’re in a relationship? Good. Okay, think about the last conversation you had, when you were actually together—no phone, email, or text conversations. Try to remember what you thought about while your boyfriend/girlfriend was talking. What do you notice while that person is talking to you? That’s what this poem is about, written by 16 year old Laura Tabor. Do you believe a person can really love a nerd? Listen!
“Pledge of Affection to a Nerd”
By Laura Tabor, age 16
I . . .
. . .drift, lazy, on the comforting breeze
as you rhythmically speak:
computer jargon.
. . .can’t get over how blue your eyes are:
talking about Star Wars.
. . .couldn’t be prouder of you as you recite:
forty-seven digits of pi.
. . .will listen, though I may never understand:
you beat the final level of Escape from Mordor!
. . .want to stay in your arms all evening while you talk about:
ancient war strategy, lunar eclipses, molecules . . .
whispering sweet algorithms in my ear.
Extension: What do you think about the poem? How is punctuation used in this poem? Which part do you like best? Which part(s) make the poem seem real? Could you write a love poem like this, where you alternate you think with what you hear?
Franco, Betsy, ed. (2008) Falling Hard: 100 Love Poems by Teenagers. Cambridge, Massachusetts: Candlewick Press.
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Module 5 Poetry Review
Module 5 Poetry Review
Poetry 5663
Diana Stephens
What My Girlfriend Doesn’t Know
By Sonya Sones
Sones’ 2007 offering followed the very popular What My Mother Doesn’t Know, but stands completely on its own. This free verse novel tells the story from the nerdy guy Robin’s point of view, of how Sophie left her clique to be his girlfriend. The short opening poem, “A Piece of Advice from Me to Me,” uses alliteration of the ‘B’ sound to immediately grab the reader’s interest: “Better brace yourself, /loser. /Because you /are about to be dumped. /Big time.” Robin’s believable voice relates his ups and downs with Sophie at school where he is considered the ultimate loser, excluded from all groups, and at a Harvard art class where he becomes a clique member who is happily one of the gang. He tells his story with all of the shame, joy, lust, jealousy, and rejection of a typical 14 year old guy.
The free verse is very alliterative (above) with occasional rhythm and rhyme, “. . .maybe /we can keep it from seeping in, /keep it from creeping under our skin. /Maybe, if we can just laugh /instead of shattering, /we can somehow /keep all of it from mattering. ” This minimalist style propels the action at a fast page-turning pace, but most of the verse reads like carefully worded prose, “Pretending I’m starving, /trying to avoid eye contact with my parents. /Because if they take a close look at me, /they’ll see how messed up I feel right now.” The ironic touches of humor are plentiful and masterful, as when he hears a young child say, “Don’t be such a ‘Murphy,’” he thinks, “Until now, it hadn’t crossed my mind /that “Murphy” might have earned itself /a permanent spot in the dictionary. /Maybe /when I get home, /I’ll look myself up.”
Robin’s interest in sex is consistent, “Because I wouldn’t want her to get the impression /that I’m a sex-crazed maniac. / Even though I am a sex-crazed maniac.” So when a college girl encourages him, the reader is unsure how he will respond, creating excellent suspense, “Actually touching a girl’s breasts! . . . This /feels amazing . . . /This feels /incredible . . . /This feels /awesome . . . /This feels wrong.” And then, as a though hammering the theme home, there is even a concrete poem, using two words “Yeah, right,” to create the shape of breasts (or a rear end,) called “I Do Not Have a One Track Mind.” Another concrete poem is “I’ve Survived Dinner with My Prying Parents” in the shape of an arrow. For variety, there is an amusing list poem as well, “A Partial List of Mrs. Stein’s Excuses for Coming into the Kitchen Every Five minutes After That to Spy on Us.”
The figurative language, while not abundant, is well placed, as with this simile using an alliterative ‘c,’ “My heart crashed /straight down to my feet /when she told me, /like an elevator with its cable cut.” The imagery, however, is pretty dry and tame, “I rush in the door, /ask her teacher where she sits, hurry to her desk, /and leave /my offerings /on her alter: /a homemade valentine /and a single /rose.” But then, the style propels the action; this is not a lyric.
Robin’s voice, while familiar, is humorous and ironic, keeping the reader’s interest focused on the course of true adolescent love. The ups and downs are very engaging-a perfect reluctant reader choice for male or female, which is unusual for the romance genre.
Sones, Sonya. (2007). What My Girlfriend Doesn’t Know. New York: Simon & Schuster Children's Publishing.
Poetry 5663
Diana Stephens
What My Girlfriend Doesn’t Know
By Sonya Sones
Sones’ 2007 offering followed the very popular What My Mother Doesn’t Know, but stands completely on its own. This free verse novel tells the story from the nerdy guy Robin’s point of view, of how Sophie left her clique to be his girlfriend. The short opening poem, “A Piece of Advice from Me to Me,” uses alliteration of the ‘B’ sound to immediately grab the reader’s interest: “Better brace yourself, /loser. /Because you /are about to be dumped. /Big time.” Robin’s believable voice relates his ups and downs with Sophie at school where he is considered the ultimate loser, excluded from all groups, and at a Harvard art class where he becomes a clique member who is happily one of the gang. He tells his story with all of the shame, joy, lust, jealousy, and rejection of a typical 14 year old guy.
The free verse is very alliterative (above) with occasional rhythm and rhyme, “. . .maybe /we can keep it from seeping in, /keep it from creeping under our skin. /Maybe, if we can just laugh /instead of shattering, /we can somehow /keep all of it from mattering. ” This minimalist style propels the action at a fast page-turning pace, but most of the verse reads like carefully worded prose, “Pretending I’m starving, /trying to avoid eye contact with my parents. /Because if they take a close look at me, /they’ll see how messed up I feel right now.” The ironic touches of humor are plentiful and masterful, as when he hears a young child say, “Don’t be such a ‘Murphy,’” he thinks, “Until now, it hadn’t crossed my mind /that “Murphy” might have earned itself /a permanent spot in the dictionary. /Maybe /when I get home, /I’ll look myself up.”
Robin’s interest in sex is consistent, “Because I wouldn’t want her to get the impression /that I’m a sex-crazed maniac. / Even though I am a sex-crazed maniac.” So when a college girl encourages him, the reader is unsure how he will respond, creating excellent suspense, “Actually touching a girl’s breasts! . . . This /feels amazing . . . /This feels /incredible . . . /This feels /awesome . . . /This feels wrong.” And then, as a though hammering the theme home, there is even a concrete poem, using two words “Yeah, right,” to create the shape of breasts (or a rear end,) called “I Do Not Have a One Track Mind.” Another concrete poem is “I’ve Survived Dinner with My Prying Parents” in the shape of an arrow. For variety, there is an amusing list poem as well, “A Partial List of Mrs. Stein’s Excuses for Coming into the Kitchen Every Five minutes After That to Spy on Us.”
The figurative language, while not abundant, is well placed, as with this simile using an alliterative ‘c,’ “My heart crashed /straight down to my feet /when she told me, /like an elevator with its cable cut.” The imagery, however, is pretty dry and tame, “I rush in the door, /ask her teacher where she sits, hurry to her desk, /and leave /my offerings /on her alter: /a homemade valentine /and a single /rose.” But then, the style propels the action; this is not a lyric.
Robin’s voice, while familiar, is humorous and ironic, keeping the reader’s interest focused on the course of true adolescent love. The ups and downs are very engaging-a perfect reluctant reader choice for male or female, which is unusual for the romance genre.
Sones, Sonya. (2007). What My Girlfriend Doesn’t Know. New York: Simon & Schuster Children's Publishing.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Module 5 Poetry Break New Poetry
Module 5 Poetry Break New Poetry: Two Love
Poems for High School Students
Poetry 5663
Diana Stephens
“Hello, Love”
By Michael Dowell, age 17
From Falling Hard: 100 Love Poems by Teenagers
Edited by Betsy Franco
Introduction: April is poetry month, and April is spring. They say the love bug strikes in the spring. Is anybody here in love? Is anybody here out of love? Do any of you write love poetry? In “Hello, Love,” is this guy in or out of love?
“Hello, Love”
Hello, my old “friend,”
Been a while since
You were here last.
I know why you’ve come,
And I’ll ask you to leave me.
I know you’re a delusion,
Conjured by a fickle one.
Who knows not what
She wants.
You light me up falsely,
Butterflies I haven’t felt
Since a November years ago.
Warping me,
Like I’m drunk, lying
In those leaves again,
Asking for you,
Assured I really want you.
“Well,” I’ll say to you now,
“you’ve whirled me around enough,
I’ll sit this one out,
too dizzy.”
Extension: What do you think of this poem? What did you like? Is he in or out of love? Here’s another one I like, only by a girl. The first line is my favorite. I adore strawberries. What do you think strawberries represent in this poem?
“Testimony”
By LaToya Jackson, age 17
I did it because red strawberries were falling from the sky.
The air was moist and the sky was clear.
A red fire was trying to get free.
There were no strangers there.
I did it because I wanted to try something new.
I wanted to fly above the trees.
Promises were made-to never leave each other,
but I would never do it again.
I did it because I was immature.
I did it because I wanted to be loved.
Extension: What do you think of this one? What is the “it” she speaks of doing? (Sex, probably.) Does this sound like someone who is in love or out of love? What do the red strawberries represent? (Passion) Red is the color of passion. Notice the red fire also, trying to get free. Does that sound like passion?
I read most of these 100 poems in Betsy Franco’s book, Falling Hard: 100 Love Poems by Teenagers, and I found there were more poems about out-of-love than there were about in-love. Why is that, do you think? Does love change?
Franco, Betsy, ed. (2008) Falling Hard: 100 Love Poems by Teenagers. Cambridge, Massachusetts: Candlewick Press.
Poetry 5663
Diana Stephens
“Hello, Love”
By Michael Dowell, age 17
From Falling Hard: 100 Love Poems by Teenagers
Edited by Betsy Franco
Introduction: April is poetry month, and April is spring. They say the love bug strikes in the spring. Is anybody here in love? Is anybody here out of love? Do any of you write love poetry? In “Hello, Love,” is this guy in or out of love?
“Hello, Love”
Hello, my old “friend,”
Been a while since
You were here last.
I know why you’ve come,
And I’ll ask you to leave me.
I know you’re a delusion,
Conjured by a fickle one.
Who knows not what
She wants.
You light me up falsely,
Butterflies I haven’t felt
Since a November years ago.
Warping me,
Like I’m drunk, lying
In those leaves again,
Asking for you,
Assured I really want you.
“Well,” I’ll say to you now,
“you’ve whirled me around enough,
I’ll sit this one out,
too dizzy.”
Extension: What do you think of this poem? What did you like? Is he in or out of love? Here’s another one I like, only by a girl. The first line is my favorite. I adore strawberries. What do you think strawberries represent in this poem?
“Testimony”
By LaToya Jackson, age 17
I did it because red strawberries were falling from the sky.
The air was moist and the sky was clear.
A red fire was trying to get free.
There were no strangers there.
I did it because I wanted to try something new.
I wanted to fly above the trees.
Promises were made-to never leave each other,
but I would never do it again.
I did it because I was immature.
I did it because I wanted to be loved.
Extension: What do you think of this one? What is the “it” she speaks of doing? (Sex, probably.) Does this sound like someone who is in love or out of love? What do the red strawberries represent? (Passion) Red is the color of passion. Notice the red fire also, trying to get free. Does that sound like passion?
I read most of these 100 poems in Betsy Franco’s book, Falling Hard: 100 Love Poems by Teenagers, and I found there were more poems about out-of-love than there were about in-love. Why is that, do you think? Does love change?
Franco, Betsy, ed. (2008) Falling Hard: 100 Love Poems by Teenagers. Cambridge, Massachusetts: Candlewick Press.
Module 5 Poetry Break with Refrain
Poetry 5663
Diana Stephens
“House Crickets”
By Paul Fleischman
Illustrated by Eric Beddows
From Joyful Noise: Poems for Two Voices
Introduction: Poetry month is April, and April is spring. What do you think of when you think of spring? (Allow for answers.) Are there any animals that you associate with spring? (Allow for answers.) Do you know how, sometimes, we have favorite animals? Does anyone have a favorite insect? Some people really do like spiders or cockroaches. If I could have a favorite insect, it would be the cricket. It’s the one that makes that noise. (Use Eric Carle’s book, The Very Quiet Cricket, to make the cricket sound.)
Did you know that the Japanese believe that the cricket brings them good luck, so they keep them in little traps or cages in their houses to bring good luck? It’s supposed to be bad luck if you kill one, so when I find one in the house, I capture it in my hands and throw it outside.
Now this poetry book, (holding it up), Joyful Noise: Poems for Two Voices, may be new to you. It won the Newbery Medal, an award for children's literature, in 1989. It says two voices, so I will need your teacher to be the other voice with me, and then we will let you try it. Listen to see how many of the seasons are mentioned. And see if you catch the metaphor.
Poetry 5663
Diana Stephens
“House Crickets”
By Paul Fleischman
Illustrated by Eric Beddows
From Joyful Noise: Poems for Two Voices
Introduction: Poetry month is April, and April is spring. What do you think of when you think of spring? (Allow for answers.) Are there any animals that you associate with spring? (Allow for answers.) Do you know how, sometimes, we have favorite animals? Does anyone have a favorite insect? Some people really do like spiders or cockroaches. If I could have a favorite insect, it would be the cricket. It’s the one that makes that noise. (Use Eric Carle’s book, The Very Quiet Cricket, to make the cricket sound.)
Did you know that the Japanese believe that the cricket brings them good luck, so they keep them in little traps or cages in their houses to bring good luck? It’s supposed to be bad luck if you kill one, so when I find one in the house, I capture it in my hands and throw it outside.
Now this poetry book, (holding it up), Joyful Noise: Poems for Two Voices, may be new to you. It won the Newbery Medal, an award for children's literature, in 1989. It says two voices, so I will need your teacher to be the other voice with me, and then we will let you try it. Listen to see how many of the seasons are mentioned. And see if you catch the metaphor.
(I have bolded the refrain.)
“House Crickets”
By Paul Fleischman
Illustrated by Eric Beddows
From Joyful Noise: Poems for Two Voices
We don’t live in meadows
crick-et .............................crick-et
or in groves
.....................................................We’re house crickets
.....................................................living beneath
.....................................................this gas stove
crick-et .............................crick-et
Others may worry
crick-et .............................crick-et
about fall
.....................................................We’re scarcely aware
.....................................................of the seasons at all
crick-et .............................crick-et
Spring, to house crickets,
crick-et .............................crick-et
means no more
.....................................................than the time
.....................................................when fresh greens
.....................................................once again grace the floor
crick-et ............................ crick-et
Summer’s the season
crick-et .............................crick-et
for pie crumbs:
.....................................................peach, pear, boysenberry,
.....................................................quince, apricot, plum
crick-et .............................crick-et
Pumpkin seeds tell us
crick-et .............................crick-et
fall’s arrived
.....................................................while hot chocolate spills
.....................................................hint that it’s
.....................................................winter outside.
No matter the month ...............No matter the month
we’ll stay well fed and warm,
.....................................................unconcerned about cold fronts
.....................................................and wind chill and storms,
For while others are ruled ......For while others are ruled
by the sun in the heavens,
.....................................................whose varying height brings
.....................................................the season’s procession,
we live in a world .....................we live in a world
of fixed Fahrenheit
crick-et .............................crick-et
......................................................thanks to our sun:
our unchanging
......................................................reliable
steadfast and stable
bright blue ..................................bright blue
pilot light. ....................................pilot light.
Extension: What do you think of the poem? What did you think of the two voices? How many seasons were mentioned? (All four.) What was the metaphor? (Sun compared to pilot light of a gas oven.) When words in a poem are repeated, it’s called a refrain. What word or words were repeated in this poem? (Crick-et.) How did having a refrain add to the experience of the poem? (It feels like there is a cricket interrupting the poem.) Are there two other voices who would like to read it?
Fleishman, Paul. (1988) Joyful Noise: Poems for Two Voices. Illus. by Eric Beddows. New York: HarperCollins Publishers.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Module 4 Poetry Break: Biographical Poem
Module 4 Poetry BreakPoetry 5663
Diana Stephens
http://www.lladro.com/sculptures/imgCat/imagennor/01012507.jpg
“Earliest Memory”
By Marilyn Nelson and illustrated by Deborah Dancy
From The Freedom Business: A Narrative of the Life & Adventures of Venture, a Native of Africa
Introduction: I am sharing a poem with you today by Marilyn Nelson, called “Earliest Memory,” from this little book called, The Freedom Business: A Narrative of the Life & Adventures of Venture, a Native of Africa. Have you ever thought about your earliest memory? Think about it. Would anyone tell about it? (I will affirm the responses.)
This poem is the earliest memory of a five year old African boy, in Africa, in the year 1735, approximately. Now his culture is very different from ours, but some problems stay the same. His parents are fighting.
Also, think about, what kind of poetry is this?
Listen while I read aloud.
“Earliest Memory
(ca. 1735)” by Marilyn Nelson
Among the Dukandarra any man
who can afford to marries many wives.
Each wife has her own house and her own land,
and honor. A man marries first for love,
then for desire, or to beget sons.
By custom, the first wife has to approve
of the co-wives, who will learn their husband’s snore,
his taste for spices. They will be co-wives for life.
Rashly, my father married a glowing, black
sixteen-year-old girl. When the news broke at home,
with her infant tied in front and her lap child on her back,
my mother took my hand and walked toward the morning sun.
We walked and walked and walked and walked and walked.
When we were hungry my mother set us down
and gathered fruit. At night, under an arc
of Divine Protection, we lay down and slept on the ground,
to the uneasy music of distant roars.
At dawn my mother woke us to walk on.
Five days in the desert, then the green answer to prayers:
a vast open land as beautiful as our own.
My mother arranged to leave me in the care
of a wealthy farmer, far from my home and kin.
Then she walked away and left me standing there.
For the first time in my life, I was alone.
Extension: First of all, let’s identify the kind of poetry? (It’s narrative, telling a story, and it’s free verse.) Do you like it? What questions do you have about the content of the poem? (We discuss these.) What do you like or not like about it? (Affirm responses.) How do you feel at the end of this poem? (Afraid, probably.) Let’s read it again, with three volunteer readers, one for each verse.
In my earliest memory, I, too, am alone, only I don’t remember feeling afraid. I remember feeling unsupervised, sort of free, because my mother was incapacitated with sea-sickness, lying on the bunk bed with my baby brother, while I played on the floor. (We were on a military ship sailing from Los Angeles to Adak, Alaska, which is an island in the Pacific. I was about two and a half.) How many of our earliest memories have strong emotional content? Is that why we remember them? Could you write a poem about your earliest memory, or about a time when you were alone?
I want to tell you about the boy and this book, The Freedom Business: A Narrative of the Life & Adventures of Venture, a Native of Africa. It is the true story of a slave named Venture. His story is the only one recorded in history that tells of being in Africa and America, and it’s absolutely fascinating reading. I could not put it down. What this man suffered is horrible. I couldn’t believe how evil both white and black people were to him, yet he never gave up. His original story, in his own voice, is on the left hand side of the page, with a newly written poem about the events he is narrating, on the right side of the page. It also has this nice art on the pages that unifies the book and makes me feel sad. If you want to find out what happens to him, you will have to read it. I recommend it to you.
Nelson, Marilyn. (2008). The Freedom Business: A Narrative of the Life & Adventures of Venture, a Native of Africa. Illustrated by Deborah Dancy. Honesdale, Pennsylvania: Wordsong.
Module 4 Book Review: The Freedom Business
Module 4 Poetry Book Review
The Freedom Business: A Narrative of the Life & Adventures of Venture, a Native of Africa by Marilyn Nelson, illustrated by Deborah Dancy
Diana Stephens
Poetry 5663
The Freedom Business: A Narrative of the Life & Adventures of Venture, a Native of Africa by Marilyn Nelson, illustrated by Deborah Dancy
Diana Stephens
Poetry 5663
The title, The Freedom Business: A Narrative of the Life & Adventures of Venture, a Native of Africa, emphasizes this little book’s major theme—that is, the business of buying and selling people. Marilyn Nelson resurrects this little known primary source account, the only one to document both the capture in Africa and life as an American slave. The story of Venture (even his name connotes business) Smith, born Broteer Furro, a firstborn Prince of Dukandarra, was first published in 1798, and is a fascinating read by itself. Nelson’s interpretive poetry is placed on the right side of the page, with the narrative account on the left, and both are amplified by the sepia toned colors of brief, faded images by Deborah Dancy.
In general, I liked the narrative and the illustrations better than the poems. I went instantly to Google to read about the author, and discovered that she is well known and famous as the poet laureate of Connecticut. Then I read the reviews and found them lauding her poetry in this book, and thought, well, fine, I guess I am not as ready to review poetry books as I claimed to be in my just-submitted portfolio.
I couldn’t stop reading the narrative; it was horrific, what the man saw and suffered as a child and as an adult. That he tried to maintain his integrity, but was continually, throughout his life, abused and ripped off by white and black alike, was stunning, and I kept looking for the bitterness, which did not materialize much, only lamentation: “Vanity of vanities, all is vanity!” I kept wondering how he, who had been bought and sold, could continue to buy, with the desire to reap financially, his fellow black man. Each time, the ‘venture’ was unsuccessful. !!!
I found much of the free verse poetry not very poetic. In fact, the poetry often sounds just like prose: “Freeing people is good business, in principle. /You’d think they’d thank you for sixty percent /of their earnings while they repay your capital /investment,” etc. This, the last poem of the 25, contains a list, (second verse) of the three people freed by Venture, “The first person I freed cost sixty pounds, /and had repaid twenty when the fellow /stole away by night.” The third verse lists his children that he freed, again, in terms of their cost to him, “My son Solomon (seventy-five pounds) /sent on a whaler, his young life cut short /by scurvy.” The last line, “Freedom’s a matter of making history, /of venturing forth toward a time when freedom is free,” contains alliteration that helps it rise to poetic thought; however, it still feels and sounds a little trite. The theme is better stated in the last line of the second verse, “Frankly, the reward /for freeing people is a broken heart,” which makes the calculating tone understandable. Still, the prose moved me more than the poem.
Several poems did do justice to the narrative, such as “Forty-two Perfect Days,” perhaps because it contained rhythm, rhyme, imagery, and figurative language: “Like an infection which destroys /a flower beautiful and rare, /an invading army, with powdered hair, /with trumpets, muskets, and glass beads, /with lace cuffs, rum, with new-grown greeds; /like a wave of fire, like a wind all flame, /like a plague of locusts: the slavers came.” The rhythm of the lines, longer at the end of the poem than at the beginning, give the feeling of an army approaching from a distance, getting closer and closer, with the evil (appropriately compared to infection, army, fire, and a plague of locusts) released in the last three words, “the slavers came.” This one was very well done, powerful.
Deborah Dancy’s illustrations pull the book together and create a unified work. The sepia tones evoke earthy images, reminiscent of the drabness of a slave’s life. There were repeated images of chains, nooses, ropes, sticks, thorns, vines, ferns, and many splotchy places creating an old view, through time, of the pages. This adds much sad, but enduring emotion to the whole reading experience.
Nelson and Dancy have brought forth an important, creative, yet historical addition to the heritage of African Americans and all Americans. I am grateful; students will be, too, once we do our job and bring attention to it.
Nelson, Marilyn. (2008). The Freedom Business: A Narrative of the Life & Adventures of Venture, a Native of Africa. Illustrated by Deborah Dancy. Honesdale, Pennsylvania: Wordsong.
Module 4 Poetry Break: Spring Poem
Used with permission: www.freefoto.comModule 4 Poetry Break: Spring Poem
Diana Stephens
Poetry 5663
“Bud” by Kristine O’Connell George
from Old Elm Speaks: Tree Poems, illustrated by Kate Kiesler
Introduction: Welcome back from Spring Break! Did you do any ‘Spring’ things? (Allow students to share.)
Before we can understand the poem I have for you today, we need to know some synonyms for “suitcase.” Can anyone think of a synonym for suitcase? Let’s look it up in the Thesaurus. Some synonyms are: traveling bag, valise, satchel, backpack, duffel bag. Some of these will be used in our poem.
Now please remember what we have been saying about figurative language. What is the name of the comparison that does not use ‘like’ or ‘as’? (Wait for the response: metaphor.) In this poem, the whole poem is a metaphor, so we call it an ‘extended metaphor.’ What two items are being compared in this poem? Listen while I read it the first time.
“Bud”
by Kristine O’Connell George, from Old Elm Speaks: Tree Poems
(Reader 1) A tiny velveteen satchel,
the color of pale cream,
(Reader 2) is perched on the tip
of this bare branch.
(Reader 1) Snap open the clasp—
and you will find,
inside this tiny valise,
(Reader 2) one rolled and folded
neatly packed
(All) leaf.
Extension: Let’s read it again, I need volunteers to be Readers 1 and 2.
What was the metaphor? (A tree bud is being compared to a valise/satchel/suitcase).
What else did you notice or like? Alliteration? (Yes: c, p, and l sounds.)
What quality do the satchel and the bud have in common? (They both open.) Because of that quality, a suitcase opens, and a tree bud opens, the poem’s author was able to make this beautiful poetic comparison.
Let’s brainstorm other items, or things that happen in spring. Make a bubble map with the word ‘spring’ in the center bubble. We can actually make our map look like a flower with petals all around it. Next, fill in the petals with words describing spring things.
Now for each spring thing word or phrase, think of several qualities: a color, or action that that thing has, and draw bubble extensions from it, and write the description or name of the quality inside those bubbles. Do that for several spring thing words.
Now think while looking at those qualities--if there is something else, something really different, some thing that has the same quality as you are looking at in one of your bubbles. If you can think of that differing quality or thing, you can now make an extended metaphor poem.
Look at the first line of our “Bud” poem. See how the author describes the bud, “A tiny velveteen satchel.” Can you use descriptive word to describe your thing? See if you can continue your description to make a poem that is an extended metaphor, ending it with the words that describe your original spring thing. When you are finished, go back and play with the spacing.
Good job! I’ll bet you didn’t think you could write an extended metaphor poem!
George, Kristine O’Connell. (1998) Old Elm Speaks. Illus. by Kate Kiesler. New York: Clarion Books.
Diana Stephens
Poetry 5663
“Bud” by Kristine O’Connell George
from Old Elm Speaks: Tree Poems, illustrated by Kate Kiesler
Introduction: Welcome back from Spring Break! Did you do any ‘Spring’ things? (Allow students to share.)
Before we can understand the poem I have for you today, we need to know some synonyms for “suitcase.” Can anyone think of a synonym for suitcase? Let’s look it up in the Thesaurus. Some synonyms are: traveling bag, valise, satchel, backpack, duffel bag. Some of these will be used in our poem.
Now please remember what we have been saying about figurative language. What is the name of the comparison that does not use ‘like’ or ‘as’? (Wait for the response: metaphor.) In this poem, the whole poem is a metaphor, so we call it an ‘extended metaphor.’ What two items are being compared in this poem? Listen while I read it the first time.
“Bud”
by Kristine O’Connell George, from Old Elm Speaks: Tree Poems
(Reader 1) A tiny velveteen satchel,
the color of pale cream,
(Reader 2) is perched on the tip
of this bare branch.
(Reader 1) Snap open the clasp—
and you will find,
inside this tiny valise,
(Reader 2) one rolled and folded
neatly packed
(All) leaf.
Extension: Let’s read it again, I need volunteers to be Readers 1 and 2.
What was the metaphor? (A tree bud is being compared to a valise/satchel/suitcase).
What else did you notice or like? Alliteration? (Yes: c, p, and l sounds.)
What quality do the satchel and the bud have in common? (They both open.) Because of that quality, a suitcase opens, and a tree bud opens, the poem’s author was able to make this beautiful poetic comparison.
Let’s brainstorm other items, or things that happen in spring. Make a bubble map with the word ‘spring’ in the center bubble. We can actually make our map look like a flower with petals all around it. Next, fill in the petals with words describing spring things.
Now for each spring thing word or phrase, think of several qualities: a color, or action that that thing has, and draw bubble extensions from it, and write the description or name of the quality inside those bubbles. Do that for several spring thing words.
Now think while looking at those qualities--if there is something else, something really different, some thing that has the same quality as you are looking at in one of your bubbles. If you can think of that differing quality or thing, you can now make an extended metaphor poem.
Look at the first line of our “Bud” poem. See how the author describes the bud, “A tiny velveteen satchel.” Can you use descriptive word to describe your thing? See if you can continue your description to make a poem that is an extended metaphor, ending it with the words that describe your original spring thing. When you are finished, go back and play with the spacing.
Good job! I’ll bet you didn’t think you could write an extended metaphor poem!
George, Kristine O’Connell. (1998) Old Elm Speaks. Illus. by Kate Kiesler. New York: Clarion Books.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Module 3 Verse Novel Review: Lisa Ann Sandell
Module 3 Poetry Review
Poetry 5646
Song of the Sparrow
By Lisa Ann Sandell
Thank you for the opportunity to read a book that had been appealing to me since it came last spring, but never jumped off the shelf into my hand. Now I can recommend it appropriately.
Song of the Sparrow, an historical verse novel set in the time of King Arthur, very appropriately blends poetic language with a poetic story and setting. More character than plot driven, Elaine, the narrator, is finely drawn with enough medieval sensibilities (talented at sewing and healing) to be believable, but rounded out with enough modern feminine values (“I can protect /myself, /I know I would fight for this country,”) to maintain appeal to YA readers. Though the tome runs 383 pages, none of the other characters is as rich as she, which causes the plot to suffer at the end. True to Tennyson’s vision, this Lady of Shalott pines for Lancelot, but too quickly falls for Tristan who has been consistently mourning his own loss. Also, Gynivere’s character twists just like the plot events, shallow and mean to Elaine in the beginning, but heroic and open at the end. These are minor annoyances, however, since there is plenty of high adventure, romance, and fighting to build and sustain interest, and the imaginative reworking of the traditional ending is far more interesting than Tennyson’s.
Song of the Sparrow is beautifully written, sometimes reading just like prose: “Once I heard Lavain whisper /to Tirry that it was a good /thing our mothers lived to /see me through eight years /of life.” But mostly, it reads like poetry, often with rhythm and, in this case, consonance, (the‘d’ sound in this, the next line,) “Till I was old enough to learn /to use a thread and needle /and old enough to grow /skilled at mending clothes.”
The sparse, powerful word choices that alliterate the ‘b’ sound, reminds the reader of the violence or beatings that occur in this novel. It occurs in the beginning lines as well as elsewhere: “Motherless. /Sisterless. /I am both. /But I have brothers, /dozens /nay, hundreds /of brothers. /Only two real ones: /brash Lavain /and my biggest brother, thoughtful Tirry. /The others are not brothers by blood.”
The alliterative images are precise and descriptive: “My fingers find the trunk /of the tree I hide behind, /Grasping its warmth, /its steadiness. /On this night when the earth rocks beneath my feet, /the birch tree is solid. /But its /papery bark /peels away, /leaving a sticky sap /that coats my fingernails /like blood.” There is that theme of blood again, underscoring the constant threat or actual violence in the story. When personification is added to this rich mix, “The willow’s boughs /curve in elegant swoops, /and it feels as though she means /to protect me,” it makes reading this verse novel a pleasure and a passion.
Figurative language is used sparingly, but to good effect. Simile abounds and even combines with personification in this example, “His voice is also like water, /smooth and warm, fluidly tripping /over notes and words.” The title’s purpose becomes obvious in the metaphor of the sparrow which represents Elaine’s heart, “His fingers flutter at the nape /of my neck. /My heart flutters too. . . . /The sparrow beats her wings.”
The verses are well placed to maintain the suspense. When Elaine was kidnapped by the Saxons, I felt the very real immediate danger; then when she left in the boat, I genuinely wondered what twist would allow her to survive.
The Publisher’s Weekly reviewer of Song of the Sparrow asserts that the “poetic narrative-a mix of observations, dialogue and laments-evokes a remarkable range (and natural progression) of emotions.” I strongly concur with this assessment and note that it is this finely tuned emotional painting that will draw in and engage the readers of YA fiction and verse novels in a thrilling historical/adventure/romance.
Sandell, Lisa Ann. 2007. Song of the Sparrow.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Module 3 Poetry Break: Non-Rhyming Poem
Module 3 Poetry Break: Non-Rhyming Poem
Poetry 5663
Diana Stephens
“Principal Barron”
by Terri Fields
from After the Death of Anna Gonzales
Introduction: We all know that we have lost a Union Bower family member recently; there’s been a funeral, did any of you go? I know that there is some uncertainty as to what exactly was the cause of death, and it’s not our job today to try to figure that out. How many of you knew Michael Rowe? Let’s pause a moment to remember him.
Michael’s death brings me to this book of poems, After the Death of Anna Gonzales by Terri Fields, where all the different people in the school where Anna died contribute a poem, whether they knew her or not. Here is one of the first poems, from the school’s principal. In our first reading, I would like to read the principal’s voice, and I would like volunteers to read the announcements, so I’ll need two people to read for the student announcers, A. 1 and A. 2.
One more thing, I know you have been discussing irony, related to your recent reading of A Separate Peace. I’ll be very interested to know what you find ironic in this poem.
“Principal Barron”
[Principal-this reader reads all the parts not in quotes.]
Thirty years in education.
I’ve broken up fights.
Fired a teacher.
Failed a student.
But not this.
This is too much to ask.
[A. 1] “Volleyball practice has been moved to 5:00 P.M.
The chess club will meet today in
Mr. Malkin’s room.”
Thirty years in education.
I’ve learned school law.
Listened to angry parents.
Located lost school buses.
But not this.
This is too much to ask.
[A. 2] “Congratulations to the JV football team on last
night’s 14-0 win against the Raiders.
[A. 1] Student Council will be selling spirit T-Shirts
during both lunch hours all week.”
To make a difference.
To better kids’ lives.
That was why I went into education.
So how does this happen?
How do I . . .
[A. 2] “Mr. Barron, announcements are almost over.
Do you still have a special?”
I trudge toward the camera.
[A. 1] “And now for a special from our principal.”
Words caught in unwilling voice.
[Principal] “Anna Gonzales took her life last night.
Our sympathies to her family and friends.
Grief counselors will be available all day.”
Robotlike move off camera.
As a chirpy voice concludes,
[A. 1] “And those are today’s announcements.
Have a nice day.”
Extension: What do you think? Did you like the way this announcement was made? What is the irony? (Some might suggest the contrast between the minutiae of the announcements compared to suicide, etc.) Think about how you would make the announcement, and what would be running through your head.
You have the assignment of announcing the death of Michael Rowe. How would you do it? Write a poem that alternates your thoughts with what you would say. OR, just write a poem about how you felt about or what you knew about Michael Rowe, maybe what you were doing when you heard about it, or something you wish you had said to him.
***Students are very much affected by the death of a peer. The death of a young person is always such a shock. Writing a poem about it would be an excellent and creative way of tapping into and dealing the intense emotion aroused during this time.
Fields, Terri. 2002. After the Death of Anna Gonzales. New York: Henry Holt and Company.
Poetry 5663
Diana Stephens
“Principal Barron”
by Terri Fields
from After the Death of Anna Gonzales
Introduction: We all know that we have lost a Union Bower family member recently; there’s been a funeral, did any of you go? I know that there is some uncertainty as to what exactly was the cause of death, and it’s not our job today to try to figure that out. How many of you knew Michael Rowe? Let’s pause a moment to remember him.
Michael’s death brings me to this book of poems, After the Death of Anna Gonzales by Terri Fields, where all the different people in the school where Anna died contribute a poem, whether they knew her or not. Here is one of the first poems, from the school’s principal. In our first reading, I would like to read the principal’s voice, and I would like volunteers to read the announcements, so I’ll need two people to read for the student announcers, A. 1 and A. 2.
One more thing, I know you have been discussing irony, related to your recent reading of A Separate Peace. I’ll be very interested to know what you find ironic in this poem.
“Principal Barron”
[Principal-this reader reads all the parts not in quotes.]
Thirty years in education.
I’ve broken up fights.
Fired a teacher.
Failed a student.
But not this.
This is too much to ask.
[A. 1] “Volleyball practice has been moved to 5:00 P.M.
The chess club will meet today in
Mr. Malkin’s room.”
Thirty years in education.
I’ve learned school law.
Listened to angry parents.
Located lost school buses.
But not this.
This is too much to ask.
[A. 2] “Congratulations to the JV football team on last
night’s 14-0 win against the Raiders.
[A. 1] Student Council will be selling spirit T-Shirts
during both lunch hours all week.”
To make a difference.
To better kids’ lives.
That was why I went into education.
So how does this happen?
How do I . . .
[A. 2] “Mr. Barron, announcements are almost over.
Do you still have a special?”
I trudge toward the camera.
[A. 1] “And now for a special from our principal.”
Words caught in unwilling voice.
[Principal] “Anna Gonzales took her life last night.
Our sympathies to her family and friends.
Grief counselors will be available all day.”
Robotlike move off camera.
As a chirpy voice concludes,
[A. 1] “And those are today’s announcements.
Have a nice day.”
Extension: What do you think? Did you like the way this announcement was made? What is the irony? (Some might suggest the contrast between the minutiae of the announcements compared to suicide, etc.) Think about how you would make the announcement, and what would be running through your head.
You have the assignment of announcing the death of Michael Rowe. How would you do it? Write a poem that alternates your thoughts with what you would say. OR, just write a poem about how you felt about or what you knew about Michael Rowe, maybe what you were doing when you heard about it, or something you wish you had said to him.
***Students are very much affected by the death of a peer. The death of a young person is always such a shock. Writing a poem about it would be an excellent and creative way of tapping into and dealing the intense emotion aroused during this time.
Fields, Terri. 2002. After the Death of Anna Gonzales. New York: Henry Holt and Company.
Module3 Poetry Break with Form Poem
Module 3 Poetry Break with Form Poem
Diana Stephens
Poetry 5663
“Dear Mom” and “Dear Hard Working Dad”
from Love Letters by Arnold Adoff and illustrated by Lisa Desimini.
Introduction to teens: Most of you know at least one parent well. Think about them for a minute. Think about your whole life with that parent, the things they did right for you, maybe some things they did wrong. What would you want to say to them? Could you write that in a poem? This author doesn’t use very many words to communicate a big message. Also, the form or format of these two poems is different. Why do you think the poet spaced the lines and words the way he does here, watch (poem projected) while I read aloud.
Dear Mom:
First: K e e p m o m m i n g.
Second:
I’m really thanking you.
Third: I’m serious.
Fourth:
Don’t laugh.
Fifth: Please kiss
only
on
the
c h e e k.
Your Big Son: The Kid Himself.
What do you like about this? Where did the poet make a verb out of a noun? Does anyone notice anything about the shape of this poem? (Maybe the curve reminds you of a cheek.) Be thinking of four or five short things you could say to your mom, and how you would sign the poem.
Now let’s look at the one to dad.
Diana Stephens
Poetry 5663
“Dear Mom” and “Dear Hard Working Dad”
from Love Letters by Arnold Adoff and illustrated by Lisa Desimini.
Introduction to teens: Most of you know at least one parent well. Think about them for a minute. Think about your whole life with that parent, the things they did right for you, maybe some things they did wrong. What would you want to say to them? Could you write that in a poem? This author doesn’t use very many words to communicate a big message. Also, the form or format of these two poems is different. Why do you think the poet spaced the lines and words the way he does here, watch (poem projected) while I read aloud.
Dear Mom:
First: K e e p m o m m i n g.
Second:
I’m really thanking you.
Third: I’m serious.
Fourth:
Don’t laugh.
Fifth: Please kiss
only
on
the
c h e e k.
Your Big Son: The Kid Himself.
What do you like about this? Where did the poet make a verb out of a noun? Does anyone notice anything about the shape of this poem? (Maybe the curve reminds you of a cheek.) Be thinking of four or five short things you could say to your mom, and how you would sign the poem.
Now let’s look at the one to dad.
Arnold Adoff
Dear hard Working Dad:
Even when you snore
on the couch, I am
proud
with
a
full
heart for
you.
Your Son With Earplugs.
Extension: What do you like about this one? Isn’t the humor fun? Do you have any thoughts about the shape of this poem? (I am not sure. There is somewhat of S shape, but it’s not definite enough to know for sure.) In the illustration, the crooked line of the smoke of the pipe is reminiscent of the poem’s shape. What adjective describes your dad? Could it be the beginning of a poem about your dad?
Choose a parent and write a very short poem about him or her, using the “Dear/Your . . .” format. After you type it up, experiment with spacing for visual effect. Look for a word in your poem that you could emphasize with an arrangement of words, letters and spaces. Try making a verb out of a noun, as in the “Dear Mom” poem. And try to find a humorous “Your . . .” for the end.
Look at some of these other poems. Would you like to make a whole book of love poems? Let’s make one for teenagers.
Adoff, Arnold, and Lisa Desimini, ill. 1997. Love Letters. New York: The Blue Sky Press.
Even when you snore
on the couch, I am
proud
with
a
full
heart for
you.
Your Son With Earplugs.
Extension: What do you like about this one? Isn’t the humor fun? Do you have any thoughts about the shape of this poem? (I am not sure. There is somewhat of S shape, but it’s not definite enough to know for sure.) In the illustration, the crooked line of the smoke of the pipe is reminiscent of the poem’s shape. What adjective describes your dad? Could it be the beginning of a poem about your dad?
Choose a parent and write a very short poem about him or her, using the “Dear/Your . . .” format. After you type it up, experiment with spacing for visual effect. Look for a word in your poem that you could emphasize with an arrangement of words, letters and spaces. Try making a verb out of a noun, as in the “Dear Mom” poem. And try to find a humorous “Your . . .” for the end.
Look at some of these other poems. Would you like to make a whole book of love poems? Let’s make one for teenagers.
Adoff, Arnold, and Lisa Desimini, ill. 1997. Love Letters. New York: The Blue Sky Press.
Friday, February 20, 2009
Module 2 Multicultural Poetry Book Review
Module 2 Multicultural Poetry Book Review
5663 Poetry
Diana Stephens
Honeybee by Naomi Shihab Nye
How does one organize emotion? When the poems zing and sting, and the tears well up, and one stops to THINK? And connect. And one wonders, and remembers, and GETS IT. And it’s so good, because the work of all that made the revelation stunning? The only solution seems to be to write the review in poetry, which would take too long.
Naomi Shihab Nye takes the plight of the honeybee for inspiration and metaphorical comparisons throughout the 82 poems and prose essays. The book is dedicated to her grandmother who is quoted: “Instead of going to heaven at last, I’ve been going there all along.” Honeybee reconfirms the impression that Ms. Nye, herself, is acquainted with the goodness of heaven, revealed in the way the bees teach her, and her readers, that: “drinking it in,” (as in “dipping and diving down into the nectar of scenes,”) is essential in order to live well, and to be able to pay attention to the reasons why we are losing the “small things that blink in our darkness” like bees and lightning bugs. The alliteration, strong images, and word choices spawn stimulating, poetic prose [Introduction].
The poems are written in free verse, with pleasing sound combinations. She uses rhyme only occasionally (“Broken,” third verse,) but finding it in the prose was surprising and especially welcome: “. . . I was a fool, and I will always be a fool, and there will never, never, be a last day of school.” Assonance occurs more often: “A bumblebee is not a honeybee. It only pretends to be.”
The second stanza of “Communication Skills” demonstrates her considerable abilities with alliteration “The strength of strangers will help us survive. /Strangers are so generous. /they don’t know our faults, our flaws, /muttering good morning. . . .”
Generating metaphor, often extended, where a subtle reference at the beginning of a poem becomes the theme at the end of it, is poetic mastery, as demonstrated in “Young Drummer Leaving Alamo Music Company.” The scene is set with “losing two friends in a week and didn’t say good-bye /to either of them, when you’re staring straight ahead /at things getting worse in the world, wishing everybody could hear.” Drum sticks are personified, becoming you (the reader) “still hitting odd rhythmic patterns on the skin of this world,” and the “rat-a-tat” is the worldly pain that “is still hitting you.” This moving metaphor produces a wallop of emotional impact.
Emotional impact is exactly where the poet excels, using sensory images to arouse emotion, as in “Pacify”: “Teenage boy lying asleep on a Toronto sidewalk . . . /baby’s pacifier tucked in his mouth. . . . /Where is his mother? /How many times all mothers fail . . . .” The plea to the human family, “please someone /protect him on behalf of /the family /(for everyone’s sake) /we need to be” is poignant.
She introduces her theme of fighting, and how people are affected by it, in “Someone You Will Not Meet.” Specific sensory details are very effectively used to bring to a young person to life: “/Gives her brother an orange because /he likes them more than she does”; “/Gives her mother a handwritten booklet”; “/Rolls her socks into balls”; “/never could she have imagined being jealous of a bee” (who can come and go freely). This character is nearly frozen emotionally by living in violence: “/Staring at the sesame seeds /she could almost give them /names.)
The theme of the child (her son, by inference,) leaving/left the nest continues throughout, but the mother’s heart is especially exposed in “Password.” “I have made so many mistakes /you might think I would sit down,” acknowledges that the mistakes are not final, “till something that might not have happened had a chance again,” and also the fact, that, as mothers, we still don’t get it, “I have slept so many times /you might think I would really be awake by now.” More of this theme occurs in “The Little Bun of Hours,” such a gem. The metaphor, comparing food to time draws attention, “Days that felt like sheet cakes in long silver pans.” Then details of a specific childhood are recounted, before the knockout punch “/And I will try to remember when you liked me more than when you didn’t. It is the butter on the bread.”
Animals are often used to various purposes. My favorite is “Running Egret,” where the “unexpected, unpredictable . . . nonpartisan egret” becomes an eloquent metaphor for man’s need to see the answers to himself in nature.
The pacing or placement of the poems is very effective, especially evidenced in touches of wit that offset the heaviness of fighting and an empty nest. “Girls, Girls,” ends with “Clover honey is most popular /and clover is a weed. /All the worker bees are female. /Why is that no surprise?” And on the very next page is “Deputies Raid Bexar Cockfight,” where I laughed with Naomi at the idea of escaping participants running away “carrying a mean rooster. One mean rooster is a huge dad-gum rooster.”
Ms. Nye’s very adept associations of the familiar with the unfamiliar also explain why her poetry succeeds poem after poem. “Our Best Selves” contrasts a machine’s shifting gears with the bees’ “waggle dance,” taking us to a world where our work puts things together “in the hopeful hour,” and “won’t be blown apart, dissolve, or disappear.” When she brings back the bees, “Did you know bees ventilate their homes by hovering outside and fanning their wings?” to contrast with, “Light passes through thinking, /helps us find the field again;” one is amazed at the ‘light’ or truth of how much we need nature to keep us focused on our humanity.
Much of this work will appeal to older teens who have matured enough to be aware of the rest of the world. They may key in on the themes of violence, or the environment, or communication. Animal lovers will be amused (“This Is Not a Dog Urinal”).
This tome feels older, wiser, freer, and more eclectic than 19 Varieties of Gazelles. The shifting themes pull the reader from animals to war to tea to presidents to school, all the time finding a reason to be encouraged, a way to hope. (These poor sentences have barely articulated how well it succeeds. And I did not even get to the really great poems, at least that’s how it feels.)
5663 Poetry
Diana Stephens
Honeybee by Naomi Shihab Nye
How does one organize emotion? When the poems zing and sting, and the tears well up, and one stops to THINK? And connect. And one wonders, and remembers, and GETS IT. And it’s so good, because the work of all that made the revelation stunning? The only solution seems to be to write the review in poetry, which would take too long.
Naomi Shihab Nye takes the plight of the honeybee for inspiration and metaphorical comparisons throughout the 82 poems and prose essays. The book is dedicated to her grandmother who is quoted: “Instead of going to heaven at last, I’ve been going there all along.” Honeybee reconfirms the impression that Ms. Nye, herself, is acquainted with the goodness of heaven, revealed in the way the bees teach her, and her readers, that: “drinking it in,” (as in “dipping and diving down into the nectar of scenes,”) is essential in order to live well, and to be able to pay attention to the reasons why we are losing the “small things that blink in our darkness” like bees and lightning bugs. The alliteration, strong images, and word choices spawn stimulating, poetic prose [Introduction].
The poems are written in free verse, with pleasing sound combinations. She uses rhyme only occasionally (“Broken,” third verse,) but finding it in the prose was surprising and especially welcome: “. . . I was a fool, and I will always be a fool, and there will never, never, be a last day of school.” Assonance occurs more often: “A bumblebee is not a honeybee. It only pretends to be.”
The second stanza of “Communication Skills” demonstrates her considerable abilities with alliteration “The strength of strangers will help us survive. /Strangers are so generous. /they don’t know our faults, our flaws, /muttering good morning. . . .”
Generating metaphor, often extended, where a subtle reference at the beginning of a poem becomes the theme at the end of it, is poetic mastery, as demonstrated in “Young Drummer Leaving Alamo Music Company.” The scene is set with “losing two friends in a week and didn’t say good-bye /to either of them, when you’re staring straight ahead /at things getting worse in the world, wishing everybody could hear.” Drum sticks are personified, becoming you (the reader) “still hitting odd rhythmic patterns on the skin of this world,” and the “rat-a-tat” is the worldly pain that “is still hitting you.” This moving metaphor produces a wallop of emotional impact.
Emotional impact is exactly where the poet excels, using sensory images to arouse emotion, as in “Pacify”: “Teenage boy lying asleep on a Toronto sidewalk . . . /baby’s pacifier tucked in his mouth. . . . /Where is his mother? /How many times all mothers fail . . . .” The plea to the human family, “please someone /protect him on behalf of /the family /(for everyone’s sake) /we need to be” is poignant.
She introduces her theme of fighting, and how people are affected by it, in “Someone You Will Not Meet.” Specific sensory details are very effectively used to bring to a young person to life: “/Gives her brother an orange because /he likes them more than she does”; “/Gives her mother a handwritten booklet”; “/Rolls her socks into balls”; “/never could she have imagined being jealous of a bee” (who can come and go freely). This character is nearly frozen emotionally by living in violence: “/Staring at the sesame seeds /she could almost give them /names.)
The theme of the child (her son, by inference,) leaving/left the nest continues throughout, but the mother’s heart is especially exposed in “Password.” “I have made so many mistakes /you might think I would sit down,” acknowledges that the mistakes are not final, “till something that might not have happened had a chance again,” and also the fact, that, as mothers, we still don’t get it, “I have slept so many times /you might think I would really be awake by now.” More of this theme occurs in “The Little Bun of Hours,” such a gem. The metaphor, comparing food to time draws attention, “Days that felt like sheet cakes in long silver pans.” Then details of a specific childhood are recounted, before the knockout punch “/And I will try to remember when you liked me more than when you didn’t. It is the butter on the bread.”
Animals are often used to various purposes. My favorite is “Running Egret,” where the “unexpected, unpredictable . . . nonpartisan egret” becomes an eloquent metaphor for man’s need to see the answers to himself in nature.
The pacing or placement of the poems is very effective, especially evidenced in touches of wit that offset the heaviness of fighting and an empty nest. “Girls, Girls,” ends with “Clover honey is most popular /and clover is a weed. /All the worker bees are female. /Why is that no surprise?” And on the very next page is “Deputies Raid Bexar Cockfight,” where I laughed with Naomi at the idea of escaping participants running away “carrying a mean rooster. One mean rooster is a huge dad-gum rooster.”
Ms. Nye’s very adept associations of the familiar with the unfamiliar also explain why her poetry succeeds poem after poem. “Our Best Selves” contrasts a machine’s shifting gears with the bees’ “waggle dance,” taking us to a world where our work puts things together “in the hopeful hour,” and “won’t be blown apart, dissolve, or disappear.” When she brings back the bees, “Did you know bees ventilate their homes by hovering outside and fanning their wings?” to contrast with, “Light passes through thinking, /helps us find the field again;” one is amazed at the ‘light’ or truth of how much we need nature to keep us focused on our humanity.
Much of this work will appeal to older teens who have matured enough to be aware of the rest of the world. They may key in on the themes of violence, or the environment, or communication. Animal lovers will be amused (“This Is Not a Dog Urinal”).
This tome feels older, wiser, freer, and more eclectic than 19 Varieties of Gazelles. The shifting themes pull the reader from animals to war to tea to presidents to school, all the time finding a reason to be encouraged, a way to hope. (These poor sentences have barely articulated how well it succeeds. And I did not even get to the really great poems, at least that’s how it feels.)
Nye, Naomi Shihab. 2008. Honeybee. New York: Greenwillow Books.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Module 2 Poetry Break 2 with Doug Florian
Module 2 Poetry Break 2
5663 Poetry
Diana Stephens
"Dog Log" and "Cat Chat"
5663 Poetry
Diana Stephens
"Dog Log" and "Cat Chat"
Introduction: Explain to children ahead of time, that tomorrow we will be reading poems about cats and dogs. Ask students to bring pictures of these animals, of their own pets, or any other pictures from magazines or books.
On the next day, let students show their pictures and comment on them. Then read “Dog Log” to them from a sheet that has the two poems “bow wow meow meow” and “Cat Chat” typed on it side by side. Hold up the illustration for viewing.
“Dog Log” by Douglas Florian
Rolled out of bed.
Scratched my head.
Brought the mail.
Wagged my tail.
Fetched a stick.
Learned a trick.
Chased a hare.
Sat in a chair.
Chewed a shoe—
Table, too.
Got in a spat
With a cat.
Buried a bone.
Answered the phone.
Heard a thief.
Gave him grief.
Time to creep
Off to sleep.
Students read the poem again, one line for each student. Praise the reading.Ask students if they have any questions about the poem or the illustration, and ask them to comment on what they noticed or liked about it.
“Now let’s read a poem about a cat.” Hold up the illustration.
On the next day, let students show their pictures and comment on them. Then read “Dog Log” to them from a sheet that has the two poems “bow wow meow meow” and “Cat Chat” typed on it side by side. Hold up the illustration for viewing.
“Dog Log” by Douglas Florian
Rolled out of bed.
Scratched my head.
Brought the mail.
Wagged my tail.
Fetched a stick.
Learned a trick.
Chased a hare.
Sat in a chair.
Chewed a shoe—
Table, too.
Got in a spat
With a cat.
Buried a bone.
Answered the phone.
Heard a thief.
Gave him grief.
Time to creep
Off to sleep.
Students read the poem again, one line for each student. Praise the reading.Ask students if they have any questions about the poem or the illustration, and ask them to comment on what they noticed or liked about it.
“Now let’s read a poem about a cat.” Hold up the illustration.
"Cat Chat” by Douglas Florian
You have sharp claws
But velvet paws.
You chase down rats.
Race other cats.
You nap all day.
Then wake to play
With balls of string.
All night you sing.
You make a fuss.
You’re cur-i-ous.
You have soft fur
And love to purr.
You steal my chair
Then stare at the air.
You are a cat
And that is that.
Scat!
Students read the poem again, one line for each student. Praise the reading. Ask students if they have any questions, and ask them to comment on what they noticed or liked.
But velvet paws.
You chase down rats.
Race other cats.
You nap all day.
Then wake to play
With balls of string.
All night you sing.
You make a fuss.
You’re cur-i-ous.
You have soft fur
And love to purr.
You steal my chair
Then stare at the air.
You are a cat
And that is that.
Scat!
Students read the poem again, one line for each student. Praise the reading. Ask students if they have any questions, and ask them to comment on what they noticed or liked.
Extension Suggestions:
1. Divide the class in half and assign each half one of the two poems. Then direct the group reading the dog poem to read the first line, to which the other group responds by reading the first line of the cat poem, and so on, each group reading one line of their poem at a time until the last group reads, “Scat!”
2. Briefly discuss and show the other poems and illustrations in the book.
3. Introduce Sharon Creech’s Love That Dog, and have multiple copies available for silent and oral reading on another day.
4. Compare and contrast discussion: pass out an activity sheet with an outline of a dog and cat that overlap enough to create a Venn diagram. Discuss how dogs and cats are the same and different, especially referring to the qualities mentioned in the poems, and guide writing of these descriptions onto their Venn diagrams.
5. Students may use the phrases in the Venn diagram on the sheet to create more poems with illustrations, or write a compare/contrast paragraph about dogs and cats and illustrate it.
6. Have the deep thinkers explain what this quote might mean and whether they agree with it, (after you explain the meaning of prose,) “Cats are poetry; dogs are prose.”
Florian, Douglas. Bow Wow Meow Meow : It's Rhyming Cats and Dogs. New York: Harcourt Children's Books, 2003.
Module 2 Poetry Break. NCTE Winning Poet
Poetry Break Module 2
5663 Poetry
Diana Stephens
NCTE Poet Nikki Grimes
Introduction: I want to share a poem today from this book, (hold up), My Man Blue by Nikki Grimes, who is an award winning poet. She is also African American, and you remember that we are still celebrating the African American Heritage month of February. Here’s her picture, (shown on data projector).
I want you to know before I read it to you, that ‘indigo’ is a dark blue color.
Can a man be both tough and gentle?
“My Man Blue” from the book, My Man Blue, by Nikki Grimes
His leathery skin’s
Like indigo ink
This rugged dude
Who some folk think
Looks fierce in clothes
Of midnight black.
Then there’s his teeth:
One gold, three cracked.
And I suppose the shades could go.
He wears them night
And day, I know.
Still, underneath
This shell, Blue hides
A harmless
Gentle-giant side.
What do you like about that poem? Look at the illustration. Do you think it captures both the tough and gentle qualities mentioned in the poem? Would someone please read it again?
Listen while I read the second poem, and be ready to tell me why the poem is called “Second Son.” I need a volunteer to read the part of the son.
“Second Son”
from the book, My Man Blue, by Nikki Grimes
[ Son]
We’re leaning on the stoop, see
counting wedges of blue sky
Sandwiched in between the roofs
and white clouds drifting by.
“Why’d you want my friendship, Blue?”
I blurt out there and then. [Blue]
“I had a son named Zeke,” Blue says.
“These streets became his friend.”
“He needed me but by the time
I came, it was too late.
He’d passed the point of trusting his
old man to steer him straight.
“Your missing daddy also left
a hole in you,” says Blue.
“If friendship fills it, there’s less chance
The streets will eat at you.”
[ Son]
“That’s cool,” I say, all serious.
“But I can’t take Zeke’s place.” [Blue]
“I know,” says Blue. “but your laugh sure
helps conjure up his face!” (Show illustration.)
Who is the Second Son? Would you be willing to be a Second Son to Blue? Let’s read it again, with two new readers.
Extension: Give a nickname to an adult in your life that is or has been important to you, and write that nickname inside a circle. Now, for one minute, creating a bubble map, write words or phrases that describe this person and/or their relationship to you. You may use the words you place on your bubble map to write a poem about this adult.
***Many young people need the affirmation that the person being parent to them doesn’t have to be their actual parent. The poems and pictures create a very positive and effective true-to-life relationship between a young boy and a man that is not his father.
Grimes, Nikki, and Jerome Lagarrigue. My Man Blue : Poems. Ed. Toby Sherry. New York: Dial, 1999.
5663 Poetry
Diana Stephens
NCTE Poet Nikki Grimes
Introduction: I want to share a poem today from this book, (hold up), My Man Blue by Nikki Grimes, who is an award winning poet. She is also African American, and you remember that we are still celebrating the African American Heritage month of February. Here’s her picture, (shown on data projector).
I want you to know before I read it to you, that ‘indigo’ is a dark blue color.
Can a man be both tough and gentle?
“My Man Blue” from the book, My Man Blue, by Nikki Grimes
His leathery skin’s
Like indigo ink
This rugged dude
Who some folk think
Looks fierce in clothes
Of midnight black.
Then there’s his teeth:
One gold, three cracked.
And I suppose the shades could go.
He wears them night
And day, I know.
Still, underneath
This shell, Blue hides
A harmless
Gentle-giant side.
What do you like about that poem? Look at the illustration. Do you think it captures both the tough and gentle qualities mentioned in the poem? Would someone please read it again?
Listen while I read the second poem, and be ready to tell me why the poem is called “Second Son.” I need a volunteer to read the part of the son.
“Second Son”
from the book, My Man Blue, by Nikki Grimes
[ Son]
We’re leaning on the stoop, see
counting wedges of blue sky
Sandwiched in between the roofs
and white clouds drifting by.
“Why’d you want my friendship, Blue?”
I blurt out there and then. [Blue]
“I had a son named Zeke,” Blue says.
“These streets became his friend.”
“He needed me but by the time
I came, it was too late.
He’d passed the point of trusting his
old man to steer him straight.
“Your missing daddy also left
a hole in you,” says Blue.
“If friendship fills it, there’s less chance
The streets will eat at you.”
[ Son]
“That’s cool,” I say, all serious.
“But I can’t take Zeke’s place.” [Blue]
“I know,” says Blue. “but your laugh sure
helps conjure up his face!” (Show illustration.)
Who is the Second Son? Would you be willing to be a Second Son to Blue? Let’s read it again, with two new readers.
Extension: Give a nickname to an adult in your life that is or has been important to you, and write that nickname inside a circle. Now, for one minute, creating a bubble map, write words or phrases that describe this person and/or their relationship to you. You may use the words you place on your bubble map to write a poem about this adult.
***Many young people need the affirmation that the person being parent to them doesn’t have to be their actual parent. The poems and pictures create a very positive and effective true-to-life relationship between a young boy and a man that is not his father.
Grimes, Nikki, and Jerome Lagarrigue. My Man Blue : Poems. Ed. Toby Sherry. New York: Dial, 1999.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Module 1 Poetry Break 2
Poetry Break #2 Module 1
Poetry 5663-21
Diana Stephens
Introduction: Because February is African American Heritage month, I have chosen a poem to share with you from Walter Dean Myers’ verse novel, Street Love. Here is a picture of Walter Dean Myers (from the data projector). He has written many books for teens, and is one of my favorite authors. He also wrote this verse novel, Street Love (holding it up).
The title of the poem from Street Love is: “Damien and Sledge,” who are the names of characters in this novel. The poem comes at the beginning, so I think we can understand that this poem is introducing these two characters. Chico, of the first verse, is Sledge’s friend. I am asking you to please figure out, what is the relationship between these named in the title, Damien and Sledge? I am having a hard time understanding some of the slang and hope you can clarify some things for me.
We are going to read this poem as choral reading, which means we are reading it in parts or together, as indicated on the sheet. Does everyone see how the dark print directs who reads a certain part? I need a volunteer to read whenever it says, “Damien,” . . . .
From Street Love by Walter Dean Myers
“Damien and Sledge”
Sledge “Yo, Chico, check it out.
Yo, Chico,
There goes Damien, sliding and gliding
Just strolling
And rolling his eyes
Away from the action
So we can’t get the satisfaction
Of him peeping our dazzle.”
Damien “Peeping your dazzle?” Damien replies,
White toothing all over Sledge.
“I thought I was scoping the
Frazzled chumdom of a downtown clown.”
Sledge “My game is my name,” Sledge replies.
“Call it if you want some.”
Narrator 1 Damien shakes his head.
Damien “Yo, Sledge, if talk was walk my man you would be
Halfway round the world. You’re confusing game with
Lame and Ball with stall. But at the end of the
Day your rap is weaker than your play."
Narrator Sledge comes chest to chest with Damien.
His eyes are slits that carve into the flesh.
Sledge “Yo Damien, Listen up, man
Your mouth is shouting and your lips are pouting
Like you’re somebody’s girlfriend
Running off to double latteville
‘Cause you know you ain’t got the heart
To start no get down with me.”
Reader 1 Damien scoped the scene and weighed it
Reader 2 Sledge’s crew was throwing signs
Reader 3 And gritting teeth
R. 1,2,3 They wore their colors but Damien didn’t
Know what was beneath those jackets
Damien “Yo, Sledge, we’ll get it straight one day”
Damien said. “Just the two of us.”
Not now, not here, but we’ll know when
We got to do what it looks like we got to do.”
Girls A brief conversation, hard looks in the air
Boys Damien walks away and Sledge stares.
All No big thing.
Girls No big thing.
Reader 1 Just two seventeen-year-olds
All Checking out a manhood jam.
Reader 2 Damien and Kevin make their way out
All Breathing easier as they start up to Sugar Hill
Reader 3 The late summer shadows accentuate the edges
All Of the hood, define it in shape and size
All Yes, and darkness
Girls The shadows on the corner shift as they walk by
Boys Sharp eyes weigh their pockets from the distance
Girls Heavy sisters weighing down the white brick
Girls Stoops watch the passing scene
All As they have for a hundred years
Extension: Use these questions to prompt a discussion:
Can you describe Sledge and Damien’s relationship?
Which part created an image in your mind? Are there any parts of this poem that are realistic? Which part(s)?
Is the slang in this poem the same or different as what you hear? Which part of it did you like, or not like?
Myers, Walter Dean. 2006. Street Love. New York: HarperCollins Publishers.
Poetry 5663-21
Diana Stephens
Introduction: Because February is African American Heritage month, I have chosen a poem to share with you from Walter Dean Myers’ verse novel, Street Love. Here is a picture of Walter Dean Myers (from the data projector). He has written many books for teens, and is one of my favorite authors. He also wrote this verse novel, Street Love (holding it up).
The title of the poem from Street Love is: “Damien and Sledge,” who are the names of characters in this novel. The poem comes at the beginning, so I think we can understand that this poem is introducing these two characters. Chico, of the first verse, is Sledge’s friend. I am asking you to please figure out, what is the relationship between these named in the title, Damien and Sledge? I am having a hard time understanding some of the slang and hope you can clarify some things for me.
We are going to read this poem as choral reading, which means we are reading it in parts or together, as indicated on the sheet. Does everyone see how the dark print directs who reads a certain part? I need a volunteer to read whenever it says, “Damien,” . . . .
From Street Love by Walter Dean Myers
“Damien and Sledge”
Sledge “Yo, Chico, check it out.
Yo, Chico,
There goes Damien, sliding and gliding
Just strolling
And rolling his eyes
Away from the action
So we can’t get the satisfaction
Of him peeping our dazzle.”
Damien “Peeping your dazzle?” Damien replies,
White toothing all over Sledge.
“I thought I was scoping the
Frazzled chumdom of a downtown clown.”
Sledge “My game is my name,” Sledge replies.
“Call it if you want some.”
Narrator 1 Damien shakes his head.
Damien “Yo, Sledge, if talk was walk my man you would be
Halfway round the world. You’re confusing game with
Lame and Ball with stall. But at the end of the
Day your rap is weaker than your play."
Narrator Sledge comes chest to chest with Damien.
His eyes are slits that carve into the flesh.
Sledge “Yo Damien, Listen up, man
Your mouth is shouting and your lips are pouting
Like you’re somebody’s girlfriend
Running off to double latteville
‘Cause you know you ain’t got the heart
To start no get down with me.”
Reader 1 Damien scoped the scene and weighed it
Reader 2 Sledge’s crew was throwing signs
Reader 3 And gritting teeth
R. 1,2,3 They wore their colors but Damien didn’t
Know what was beneath those jackets
Damien “Yo, Sledge, we’ll get it straight one day”
Damien said. “Just the two of us.”
Not now, not here, but we’ll know when
We got to do what it looks like we got to do.”
Girls A brief conversation, hard looks in the air
Boys Damien walks away and Sledge stares.
All No big thing.
Girls No big thing.
Reader 1 Just two seventeen-year-olds
All Checking out a manhood jam.
Reader 2 Damien and Kevin make their way out
All Breathing easier as they start up to Sugar Hill
Reader 3 The late summer shadows accentuate the edges
All Of the hood, define it in shape and size
All Yes, and darkness
Girls The shadows on the corner shift as they walk by
Boys Sharp eyes weigh their pockets from the distance
Girls Heavy sisters weighing down the white brick
Girls Stoops watch the passing scene
All As they have for a hundred years
Extension: Use these questions to prompt a discussion:
Can you describe Sledge and Damien’s relationship?
Which part created an image in your mind? Are there any parts of this poem that are realistic? Which part(s)?
Is the slang in this poem the same or different as what you hear? Which part of it did you like, or not like?
Myers, Walter Dean. 2006. Street Love. New York: HarperCollins Publishers.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Module 1 Review on Hopkins Poetry Book
Module 1 Poetry Book Review
5663-21 Poetry
Diana Stephens
Opening Days, Sport Poems, selected by Lee Bennett Hopkins, illustrated by Scott Medlock, Harcourt Brace & Company, 1996.
I selected this one because I am a sports fan and participant, and the book was on the shelf in our library. The eighteen illustrated poems nicely span the sports spectrum, from karate to weightlifting, from bike riding to skiing, from baseball and soccer to basketball and football. Feminine gender is included on only two poems, one about running, another about ice skating, which might not be enough to reward a female reader.
I selected this one because I am a sports fan and participant, and the book was on the shelf in our library. The eighteen illustrated poems nicely span the sports spectrum, from karate to weightlifting, from bike riding to skiing, from baseball and soccer to basketball and football. Feminine gender is included on only two poems, one about running, another about ice skating, which might not be enough to reward a female reader.
The poems effectively met a high standard for imagination, conjuring with sensitivity and realism a basketball moment: “Calms it with fingertips, /Breathes, /Crouches, /Waits, /And then through a stretching of stillness, /nudges it upward.” Another creates the vigorous tone of a tennis match: “Dancers in /a rigorous rite /who with every ardent motion /praise the dark /and primal pulse that pounds and bounces /in the light.” Timeless philosophical insight about the end result of competition is evident: “Games /have been played. /They’re over. /That’s all.”
My favorite poem was humorous and brief. The title is actually longer than the poem: “Thoughts After a Forty Mile Bike Ride,”—“My feet, /And seat, /Are beat.”
The structure and elements of the poems vary widely. The rhyming couplets in “Chair Lift” are effective, “Under your feet, the snowy humps /Of hills go by with jerks and bumps,” but the imagery is trite, “the trees move past in a stiff parade /Like ice cream cones that giants made.” There is a very nice rhythm to “The Swimmer”, and the rhymes are not forced, “Although I have no tail or fin /I’m closer than I’ve ever been /to what fish feel /and think about.” However the title of “Speed!” is an empty enticement, when the thirty-nine words are pretty mundane. It ends like this, “wheels spin /this is speed! /wheels spin /all I need”. The theme and word choice of “Skiing” was mundane: “/and I am the mountain /and the mountain was me.” (And that’s such a great sport with so much scope for poetic imagination!)
The best and the worst poems are by well known poets. There is nothing particularly unique, creative, or even interesting about Walt Whitman’s “The Runner.” (Leave it out!) Gary Soto does his usual job of providing the most interesting metaphors, comparing muscles to apples in “Ode to Weight Lifting.” The opening poem, and maybe the best of them, is Jane Yolen’s “Karate Kid.” She uses personification to accurately portray the state of mind and body when engaging in the sport, “I am wind, /I am wall . . . I am tiger /I am tree,” and offers a nice wrap-up ending to this thinking that refers back to the earlier images, “Not to bully, /Not to fight, /Dragon left /And leopard right. /Wind and wave, /Tree and flower, /Chop. /Kick. /Peace. /Power.” It is nice and tight. If only they were all so interesting.
The whole impression is, it’s okay, mostly. It just doesn’t pull enough together to make me go, “Wow!” The illustrations are not top quality either, with literal, ordinary color drawings of the sport discussed. I really liked the “Chair Lift” illustration, but the poem was cheesy. However, I am reacting from the perspective of an older teenager or adult.
For grades three to five, maybe six, there was a great deal of appropriate vocabulary, and with the nice balance and variety of types of poems and sports, it qualifies for a recommendation. The images and word choice easily sustain enough interest to appeal to the elementary athlete, and the illustrations would not be critiqued by that age either. After reading and looking at the Printz Honor book, Heart to Heart, however, this artsy, athletic heart yearns for more.
Module 1 Poetry Break
Poetry Break Module 1
566321 Poetry
Diana Stephens
Introduction: “Today, I am recommending art books and poetry books, and art-and-poetry-combined-together books. Can a picture inspire a poem?”
Introduction: “Today, I am recommending art books and poetry books, and art-and-poetry-combined-together books. Can a picture inspire a poem?”
After giving students a moment to think and agree, project the following image from the data projector, (which is not in the book, I had to find it,) then quote from the poem, “What is going on here?” and wait for and receive responses.
***George Bellows. (see note below)
Read the poem from the book:
“Ringside” by Ron Koertge,
[from Heart to Heart, New Poems, Inspired by Twentieth Century Art, edited by Jan Greenberg, Henry H. Abrams, Inc., 2001)
It all started when a new teacher held up
this picture and said, “What’s going on here?”
Everybody said how pretty the yellow house
was, the pink blossoms, the blue sky.
I said, “It’s creepy. The sidewalk leads
Right to the cellar.” The teacher beamed
And the McKenzie brothers made fists.
I ran for the library faster than usual.
I asked Miss Wilson for more by the same guy.
She could only find one—Stag at Sharkey’s.
[Show the image in the book and on the screen.]
I looked at that painting every day. I looked
at every inch. I looked until I was at ringside,
until I was the fighter in the modest black
trunks.
When Bobby McKenzie finally caught me
and bloodied my nose, I put my head against
his and hit him with my right and to my surprise
he winced and went down.
“Stag at Sharkey’s,” I bellowed. He looked
at me like I was crazy, scrambled to his feet,
and ran.
Ask students to summarize what happened and why. Project the poem, and have a student volunteer for each verse, to read it a second time.
Extension: Flip through Heart to Heart briefly to show other images and their poems, occasionally reading a title of an image or a poem to pique interest, asking students to think about how that image might inspire writing a poem. Ask students to look at the art in the books on the tables for an image about which they could write a poem.
“Ringside” by Ron Koertge,
[from Heart to Heart, New Poems, Inspired by Twentieth Century Art, edited by Jan Greenberg, Henry H. Abrams, Inc., 2001)
This is a Printz Honor Book.
***George Bellows. I found this image late at night after along search; I was copying and pasting when my husband came in and started talking, and I neglected to copy the location. BAD. BAD. I have searched back through 51,000 Google images of George Bellows paintings TWICE, (I did it a third time yesterday) but it’s not there now, so I tried the first ten pages of a regular Google search and went through lists of art galleries. After four total hours-NADA. I will take it off if you tell me I should.
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