What is
poetry?
List or illustrate the first five things that come to your mind
when you think of the word poetry. Then use the catalysts below to develop an
extended definition of poetry .
_____ represents poetry .
_______ makes me think of poetry.
Poetic devices /terms . . . Types of poetry . . .
Places you hear poetry . . . Poets . . . Poems . . .
Music as poetry . . . Dance as poetry . . . Art as poetry
* 100+ you may supplement your words with drawing
“Oranges"
Gary Soto
(1995)
The first time I walked
With a girl, I was twelve,
Cold, and weighted down
With two oranges in my jacket.
December. Frost cracking
Beneath my steps, my breath
Before me, then gone,
As I walked toward
Her house, the one whose
Porch light burned yellow
Night and day, in any weather.
A dog barked at me, until
She came out pulling
At her gloves, face bright
With rouge. I smiled,
Touched her shoulder, and led
Her down the street, across
A used car lot and a line
Of newly planted trees,
Until we were breathing
Before a drugstore. We
Entered, the tiny bell
Bringing a saleslady
Down a narrow aisle of goods.
I turned to the candies
Tiered like bleachers,
And asked what she wanted -
Light in her eyes, a smile
Starting at the corners
Of her mouth. I fingered
A nickel in my pocket,
And when she lifted a chocolate
That cost a dime,
I didn't say anything.
I took the nickel from
My pocket, then an orange,
And set them quietly on
The counter. When I looked up,
The lady's eyes met mine,
And held them, knowing
Very well what it was all
About.
Outside,
A few cars hissing past,
Fog hanging like old
Coats between the trees.
I took my girl's hand
in mine for two blocks,
Then released it to let
Her unwrap the chocolate.
I peeled my orange
That was so bright against
The gray of December
That, from some distance,
Someone might have thought
I was making a fire in my
hands.
POETIC TERMS
A reference to a
historical figure, place,
or event.
The teams
competed in a
David and Goliath
struggle.
A broad comparison between
two basically different things
that have some points in
common.
Aspirations
toward space are
not new.
Consider the
worm that
becomes a
butterfly.
A direct comparison between
two basically different things.
A simile is introduced by the
words “like” or “as”.
My love
is like a
red, red
rose.
An implied comparison
between two basically
different things. Is not
introduced with the words
“like” or “as”.
His eyes
were
daggers that
cut right
through me.
A great exaggeration to
emphasize strong
feeling.
I will love
you until
all the
seas go
dry.
Human characteristics are
given to non-human
animals, objects, or ideas.
My stereo
walked
out of my
car.
An absent person or
inanimate object is directly
spoken to as though they
were present.
Brutus:
“Caesar, now
be still. I killed
not thee with
half so good a
will.”
A part stands for the
whole or vice versa.
The hands
that created
the work of
art were
masterful.
Hints given to the
reader of what is to
come.
“A dragon
appeared, talons
clawing through
the air.”
The use of concrete
details that appeal to
the five senses.
Cold, wet
leaves floating
on mosscolored water.
A contrast between what is said
and what is meant. Also, when
things turn out differently
than what is expected.
(verbal, dramatic, situational)
“The treacherous
instrument is in thy
hand, unbated and
envenomed. The
foul practice has
turned itself on me.”
Laertes
The overall atmosphere
or prevailing emotional
feeling of a work.
“It was the
best of times,
it was the
worst of
times.”
A seemingly selfcontradictory
statement that still is
true.
The more
we learn,
the less
we know.
A series of events that
present and resolve a
conflict. The story being
told.
The plot of “The Most
Dangerous Game” is
that Rainsford is being
hunted by General
Zaroff.
The vantage point from
which an author
presents the action in a
work.
1st person-tale related by a
character in the story. “I or me”
3rd person-story told by someone
not participating in the plot. “he,
she, they”
The repetition of
identical sounds at the
ends of lines of poetry.
“He clasps the crag
with crooked hands
Close to the sun in
lonely lands”
from “The Eagle”
The repetition of
identical sounds within
a line of poetry.
“We three shall flee across the sea to Italy.”
Or
“Hold infinity in the palm of your hand
And eternity in an hour.”
A slant rhyme or half
rhyme occurs when the
vowel sounds are not
quite identical.
“And on that cheek and
o’er that brow”
“A mind at peace with all
below”
The time (both the time of
day and period in history)
and place in which the
action of a literary work
takes place.
“Tiger! Tiger!
burning
bright
In the forests
of the night”
The repeating of a
sound, word, phrase, or
situation in a given
literary work.
“I sprang to the stirrup, and Jarvis, and he;
I galloped, Derrick galloped, we galloped all three”
The repetition of
consonant sounds at
the beginnings of
words.
“Swiftly,
swiftly flew
the ship”
The repetition of similar
vowel sounds followed
by different consonant.
“. . .that
hoard, and
sleep, and
feed, and
know not me.”
The repetition of
consonant sounds that
are preceded by
different vowel sounds.
“Wherever
we go
Silence will
fall like
dews”
The use of words whose
sounds suggest the sounds
made by objects or
activities.
Other examples:
buzz, hum, kiss
Meteors
whirred and
hissed
through the
sky.
Something concrete, such as an
object, action, character, or
scene that stands for something
abstract such as a concept or an
idea.
Both phrases are symbols that
stand for death.
“Do not go gentle into that good night
Rage, Rage against the dying of the light”
The main idea or
underlying meaning
of a literary work.
“Don’t judge
a man until
you’ve walked
a mile in his
shoes”
Comparing two very
dissimilar things. Usually
involves cleverness and
ingenuity.
This is also a simile.
“Our love is
like parallel
lines”
A term naming an object is
substituted for another word
with which it is closely
associated with.
“Sweat” stands for hard work.
“Only through
the sweat of your
brow can you
achieve success”
A pair of rhymed verse
lines that contain a
complete thought.
“But if the while I think on thee, dear friend,
All losses are restor’d and sorrows end.”
POETIC FORMS
Narrative Poems
• Tell Stories
• Rapid action and
typically
chronological
order
Ballad
• narrative folk songs
• usually focus is
heroism or tragedy
• dramatic and fastpaced incidents and
dialogue
Lyric Poems
• musical, sing a song
• usually brief,
descriptive, and
focus on personal
moment
• emphasize sound
and picture
• imagery rather than
narrative or drama
Limerick
• short, witty, poem
• Lines 1, 2, and 5
rhyme with 3 beats
• Lines 3 and 4 rhyme
with 2 beats
Concrete
–
shape and
content match
Haiku
– lines 1 and 3 =
5 syllables
– lines 2 = 7
syllables
Free Verse
• Generally unrhymed
• very few distinct rules
or boundries.
• similar to blank verse,
but it is not written in
iambic pentameter.
• The rhythm or cadence
of free verse varies
throughout the poem.
• Though the words don't
rhyme, they flow along
their own uneven
pattern.
A poetry form for one who
likes to march to the beat of
a different drummer!
Cinquain
line
line
line
line
line
1
2
3
4
5
=
=
=
=
=
1
2
3
4
1
noun
words describing the title
action words related to title
words about feelings about title
word related to title
Diamante
Line 1 = noun
Line 2 = adjective, adjective
Line 3 = verb, verb, verb
Line 4 = transition between first noun and contrasting final noun
Line 5 = verb, verb, verb
Line 6 = adjective, adjective
Line 7 = contrasting noun
Think about someone you might have met who lives in a house where more
than one language is spoken or where English is that person’s second
language. If you have never met anyone like this, imagine the type of
considerations that would be
a part of his/her daily life
(difference, discrimination, communication, comprehension, etc.).
Now put yourself in that person’s place.
Invent a person if you have to.
I am . . .



Stanza 1
I am (two special characteristics you have)
I wonder (something you are actually curious about)
I hear (an imaginary sound)
I see (an imaginary sight)
I want (an actual desire)
I am (the first line of the poem is repeated)
Stanza 2
I pretend (something you really pretend to do)
I feel (a feeling about something imaginary)
I touch (something you imagine you touch)
I worry (a worry that is real to you)
I cry (something that makes you very sad)
I am (the first line of the poem is repeated)
Stanza 3
I understand (something you know is true)
I say (something you believe in)
I dream (a dream you actually have)
I try (something you make an effort to do)
I hope (something you really hope for)
I am (the first line of the poem is repeated)
A Voice by Pat Mora
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
Who is you?
Identify one simile and one metaphor and use
inference to explain what they mean.
How does the father get to the United States?
Analyze Pat Mora’s use of imagery (five senses).
Give at least one example.
Select one line that you think is integral to
understanding the first half of the poem. Explain
your reasoning.
What is the significance of the title, A Voice.
Consider how the meaning changes over the
course of the poem.
A Voice by Pat Mora
Even the lights on the stage unrelenting
as the desert sun couldn’t hide the other
students, their eyes also unrelenting,
students who spoke English every night
when my parents didn’t understand?”
The family story says your voice is the voice
of an aunt in Mexico, spunky as a peacock.
Family stories sing of what lives in the blood.
as they ate their meat, potatoes, gravy/
Not you. In your house that smelled like
rose powder, you spoke Spanish formal
as your father, the judge without a courtroom
You told me only once about the time you went
to the state capitol, your family proud as if
you’d been named governor. But when you looked
around, the only Mexican in the auditorium,
you wanted to hide from those strange faces.
in the country he floated to in the dark
on a flatbed truck. He walked slow
as a hot river down the narrow hall
of your house. You never dared to race past him,
Their eyes were pinpricks, and you faked
hoarseness. You, who are never at a loss
for words, felt your breath stick in your throat
to say, “Please move,” in language
like an ice-cube. “I can’t,” you whispered.
you learned effortlessly, as you learned to run,
“I can’t.” Yet you did. Not that day but years later
the language forbidden at home, though your mother You taught the four of us to speak up.
said you learned it to fight with the neighbors.
This is America, Mom. The undo-able is done
You liked winning with words. You liked
in the next generation. Your breath moves
writing speeches about patriotism and democracy. through the family like the wind
You liked all the faces looking at you, all those eyes. moves through the trees.
“How did I do it?” you ask me now. “How did I do it
“The Journey”
7. Who is you?
8. Summarize what is happening in the
poem in your own words. Main idea?
Message?
9. How does the internal action match the
external action in the poem?
10. Compare the two poems. What is the
link between them? Pay particular
attention to voice.
The Journey by Mary Oliver
One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice-though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
"Mend my life!"
each voice cried.
But you didn't stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and
deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do-determined to save
the only life you could save.
Friends moved houses changed
Poem Sketching –
Period 00
Winter gargoyle sparrow snow
Poem Sketching –
Period 1
Homeless streets gardens cold
Poem Sketching –
Period 02
Silence body afternoon rain music
Poem Sketching –
Period 04
Pink fish activity heat
Poem Sketching
Period 5
Tell all the Truth but tell it slant
Tell all the Truth but tell it slant-Success in Circuit lies
Too bright for our infirm Delight
The Truth's superb surprise
As Lightening to the Children eased
With explanation kind
The Truth must dazzle gradually
Or every man be blind---
Emily
Dickinson
I’m Nobody! Who are you?
I'm Nobody! Who are you? Are you – Nobody – too? Then
there's a pair of us? Don't tell! they'd advertise – you know!
How dreary – to be – Somebody!
How public – like a Frog –
To tell one's name – the livelong June –
To an admiring Bog!
Making
a
Fist
by
Naomi
Shihab
Nye
For the first time, on the road north of Tampico,
I felt the life sliding out of me,
a drum in the desert, harder and harder to hear.
I was seven, I lay in the car
watching palm trees swirl a sickening pattern past the glass.
My stomach was a melon split wide inside my skin.
"How do you know if you are going to die?"
I begged my mother.
We had been traveling for days.
With strange confidence she answered,
"When you can no longer make a fist."
Years later I smile to think of that journey,
the borders we must cross separately,
stamped with our unanswerable woes.
I who did not die, who am still living,
still lying in the backseat behind all my questions,
clenching and opening one small hand.
I caught a tremendous fish
and held him beside the boat
half out of water, with my hook
fast in a corner of his mouth.
He didn't fight.
He hadn't fought at all.
He hung a grunting weight,
battered and venerable
and homely. Here and there
his brown skin hung like strips
like ancient wall-paper,
and its pattern of darker brown
was like wall-paper:
shapes like full-blown roses
stained and lost through age.
He was speckled with barnacles,
fine rosettes of lime,
and infested
with tiny white sea-lice,
and underneath two or three
rags of green weed hung down.
The
Fish
by Elizabeth
Bishop
While his gills were breathing in
the terrible oxygen
The frightening gills,
fresh and crisp with blood,
that can cut so badly I thought of the coarse white flesh
packed in like feathers,
the big bones and the little bones,
the dramatic reds and blacks
of his shiny entrails,
and the pink swim-bladder
like a big peony.
I looked into his eyes
which were far larger than mine
but shallower, and yellowed,
the irises backed and packed
with tarnished tinfoil
seen through the lenses
of old scratched isinglass.
They shifted a little, but not
to return my stare.
- It was more like the tipping
of an object toward the light.
I admired his sullen face,
the mechanism of his jaw,
and then I saw
that from his lower lip
if you could call it a lip grim, wet and weapon-like,
hung five old pieces of fishline,
or four and a wire leader
with the swivel still attached,
with all their five big hooks
grown firmly in his mouth.
A green line, frayed at the end
where he broke it, two heavier
lines,
and a fine black thread
still crimped from the strain
and snap
when it broke and he got away.
Like medals with their ribbons
by Elizabeth
frayed and wavering,
a five-haired beard of wisdom
trailing from his aching jaw.
Bishop
I stared and stared
and victory filled up
the little rented boat,
from the pool of bilge
The
Fish
where oil had spread a
rainbow
around the rusted engine
to the bailer rusted orange,
the sun-cracked thwarts,
the oarlocks on their
strings,
the gunnels - until
everything
was rainbow, rainbow,
rainbow!
And I let the fish go.