Name:
Class:
Contemporary Poetry
The contents of this packet are the texts you will use for the poetry unit in Contemporary Literature. You have been
provided with space for thoughts, notes, and analysis for each poem. As you read each piece, please annotate ON and
BY the poems. At the end of this unit, you will be turning in this packet with your notes and annotations. You will be
doing some analysis in class, but the majority of this packet will be completed independently.
You will do COMPLETE annotations for 10 poems in class and 18 on your own (you can pick which 18). You need to
read the remaining 6 poems but do not have to annotate them, although it might be a good idea to do casual notes.
Please see the calendar on the next page for specific instructions as to which poems you need to annotate and when.
Mrs. Baker’s Secret to Reading Poetry
Reading poetry isn’t like reading other things. You have to slow down, because each individual word’s sound and context is
important. The secret to reading poetry is that it is designed to be read out loud. Try to always follow these steps:
1.
Read it out loud if you can. If you can’t, read it “out loud” in your head. This means SLOWING DOWN and “hearing” each
individual word in your mind. “Mouthing” the words as you read helps, too; reading poetry is a sensory experience. Poets
choose words, in part, based on how they feel in our mouths as we say them!
2.
Read it again. Reading a poem 2-3 times is CRITICAL to really understanding it. They’re short — you can do it!
3.
Don’t annotate and mark until the second or third time you read it. The first time, just read.
How to Use This Packet
So what, exactly, should you be marking on the poems and writing in the notes section? Here are some suggestions:

Personal reactions: Did something in the poem “hit”
you? Remind you of something? Trigger an emotion?
Reader response notes are an excellent way to interact
with a poem. (Just make sure that you do other things
as well — reader response alone isn’t enough.)

Unfamiliar words: When you run into a word you
don’t know, highlight it and look it up. Write down a
short definition or synonym.

Allusions: Did a poem refer to a person, historical
event, or another text? Poets don’t make allusions
casually — they’re important. Take a few minutes to
check Wikipedia and find out what you’re missing,
and jot down a few notes.

Symbols: When you see something being used as a
symbol, note it and (try to) identify what it represents.

Tone and mood: What is the emotion behind this
piece? Is it dark, lighthearted, serious, silly? Wistful?
Celebratory? Fearful? Sarcastic? What does the author’s attitude toward the subject matter seem to be?
What words or phrases create that tone and/or mood?

Diction: The art of writing poetry is heavily dependent
on diction, or word choice. A poet doesn’t just use a
word that will work; s/he finds the perfect word for its
sound, its rhythm, and its denotation/connotation.
When you see a particularly good word choice, consider how the phrase, sentence, or entire text might
have been altered had the poet used a different word.

Figurative language: Mark metaphors, similes, personification, imagery, hyperbole, and onomatopoeia
when you find them. Label in the margins.

Questions and predictions: Good readers ask questions of the text and predict where things are going.
(Note: It can be challenging to make predictions in
poems, which often don’t follow a narrative arc.)

“Poetic license,” part 1: A poet can choose to break
the rules of grammar, capitalization, punctuation, and
even spelling. When you see this, you can mark it and
consider — why did the poet make that choice? What
is the effect of reading something written this way?

“Poetic license,” part 2: A poet can also choose to
break with reality, inventing or reframing historical
and scientific facts. This is deliberate! When you catch
a poet doing this, consider — why did the poet choose
to do this? What is the effect or impact?

Rhyme and rhythm: While you won’t find a lot of
end rhyme in contemporary poetry, you will run into
internal and slant rhyme. Identify these.

Analysis and interpretation: So, seriously, what do
you think this poem is all about? What is the author
trying to say here? Is this literal? Is it one big metaphor? What’s the point, the message, the moral — or
is there one at all? What does it leave you with? Could
you explain this poem in different ways, depending on
your own biases and experiences?
Calendar
Thur., February 28
Mon., March 4
Wed., March 6
Vocabulary Notes
Read/annotate “Social
Security” and “while
dissecting frogs”
(as a class)
Read/annotate
“There is No Word”
(as a class)
Read/annotate
“Introduction to Poetry”
and “Inside a Poem”
(as a class)
On your own: pick 3 with On your own: pick 3 with On your own: pick 3 with
a to read and annotate, a to read and annotate, a to read and annotate,
in class or as homework. in class or as homework. in class or as homework.
Mon., March 11
Wed., March 13
Fri., March 15
Read/annotate “Fun”
and “School Spirit Skit
2” (as a class)
Read/annotate
“Overworked” (as a class)
Read/annotate “The
Grammar Lesson” and
“The Purpose of
Poetry” (as a class)
On your own: pick 3 with On your own: pick 3 with On your own: pick 3 with
a to read and annotate, a to read and annotate, a to read and annotate,
in class or as homework. in class or as homework. in class or as homework.
Tuesday, March 19
Packet due; bring to class to use on the Contemporary Poetry Exam*.
You should have (and will be graded on having) complete annotations for at least
28 of the poems. The packet is a separate grade from the poetry exam.
The exam will assume that you have read ALL of the poems and
may include questions and/or exercises from any of them.
* If you do not bring your packet to class, you will be provided with a blank packet for use during the test — as long as
supplies last. However, you will be at a gross disadvantage if2 you are without your annotations and notes.
Introduction to Poetry
Notes, Analysis, & Thoughts
Billy Collins (1988)
I ask them to take a poem
and hold it up to the light
like a color slide
or press an ear against its hive.
I say drop a mouse into a poem
5
and watch him probe his way out,
or walk inside the poem's room
and feel the walls for a light switch.
I want them to waterski
across the surface of a poem
10
waving at the author's name on the shore.
But all they want to do
is tie the poem to a chair with rope
and torture a confession out of it.
They begin beating it with a hose
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to find out what it really means.
Notes, Analysis, & Thoughts
Inside a Poem
Eve Merriam (1986)
It doesn’t always have to rhyme,
but there’s the repeat of a beat, somewhere
an inner chime that makes you want to
tap your feet or swerve in a curve;
a lilt, a leap, a lightning-split: —
thunderstruck the consonants jut,
while the vowels open wide as waves in the
noon-blue sea.
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5
Spanish
Gary Soto (1995)
Spanish is a matter
Under the grape arbor,
Of rolling rrrrrs
Their faces lined
Clicking the tongue,
And dark as the earth
And placing
At their feet.
Your hands
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Spanish words march across
On your hips
A bag of
When your little brother
Chicharrones,
Pours cereal
Those salty clubs
Into your fishbowl.
That could easily hammer a nail
Spanish is a matter
10
45
Through the wall,
Of yelling, “¡Abuela,
They’re so hard.
Teléfono! Una vendedora
You’ve always known
De TV Guide.”
Spanish, even
It’s a matter
Behind the bars
Of Saturdays, too.
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15
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Of your crib
You enter the confessional
When you babbled,
And whisper
Mami, papi, flor, cocos —
To the priest
Nonsense in the middle of the night.
First the sins
At school, your friends
You did in English,
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Have to learn Spanish,
Like screaming at the boy
Tripping over gato,
On the blue bike,
Y perro, easy words
And then muttering
You learned
Your sins in Spanish,
When you looked out
Like when you
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You’re good at Spanish,
And had bad thoughts about Mercedes López,
And even better at math.
That big show-off in new jeans.
When you walk home,
Spanish is a matter
Dragging a stick
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65
Through the rain puddles,
When the beans burn
Spanish is seeing double.
Or “¡Chihuahua!”
The world is twice the size
When the weakest kid
And, with each year,
Hits a home run.
With one more candle,
Spanish is a matter
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The back window.
Put on lipstick
Of “¡Ay, Dios!”
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35
70
On a crooked cake,
Of your abuelo
Getting bigger.
And his compa
Chuckling about their younger days
While playing checkers
4
75
The Hand
Notes, Analysis, & Thoughts
Mary Ruefle (1996)
The teacher asks a question.
You know the answer, you suspect
you are the only one in the classroom
who knows the answer, because the person
in question is yourself, and on that
you are the greatest living authority,
but you don’t raise your hand.
You raise the top of your desk
and take out an apple.
You look out the window.
You don’t raise your hand and there is
some essential beauty in your fingers,
which aren’t even drumming, but lie
flat and peaceful.
The teacher repeats the question.
Outside the window, on an overhanging branch,
a robin is ruffling its feathers
and spring is in the air.
Notes, Analysis, & Thoughts
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10
15
God Says Yes to Me
Kaylin Haught (1995)
I asked God if it was okay to be melodramatic
and she said yes
I asked her if it was okay to be short
and she said it sure is
I asked her if I could wear nail polish
5
or not wear nail polish
and she said honey
she calls me that sometimes
she said you can do just exactly
what you want to
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Thanks God I said
And is it even okay if I don't paragraph
my letters
Sweetcakes God said
who knows where she picked that up
what I'm telling you is
Yes Yes Yes
5
15
God Went to Beauty School
Notes, Analysis, & Thoughts
Cynthia Rylant (2003)
He went there to learn how
to give a good perm
and ended up just crazy
about nails
so He opened up His own shop.
5
“Nails by Jim” He called it.
He was afraid to call it
Nails by God.
He was sure people would
think He was being
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disrespectful and using
His own name in vain
and nobody would tip.
He got into nails, of course,
because He’d always loved
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hands —
hands were some of the best things
He’d ever done
and this way He could just
hold one in His
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and admire those delicate
bones just above the knuckles,
delicate as birds’ wings,
and after He’d done that
awhile,
25
He could paint all the nails
any color He wanted,
then say,
“Beautiful,”
and mean it.
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6
Social Security
Notes, Analysis, & Thoughts
Terence Winch (2001)
No one is safe. The streets are unsafe.
Even in the safety zones, it's not safe.
Even safe sex is not safe.
Even things you lock up in a safe
are not safe. Never deposit anything
in a safe-deposit box, because it
won't be safe there. Nobody is safe
at home during baseball games anymore.
At night I go around in the dark
locking everything, returning
a few minutes later
to make sure I locked
everything. It's not safe here.
It's not safe and they know it.
People get hurt using safety pins.
It was not always this way.
Long ago, everyone felt safe. Aristotle
never felt danger. Herodotus felt danger
only when Xerxes was around. Young women
were afraid of wingèd dragons, but felt
relaxed otherwise. Timotheus, however,
was terrified of storms until he played
one on the flute. After that, everyone
was more afraid of him than of the violent
west wind, which was fine with Timotheus.
Euclid, full of music himself, believed only
that there was safety in numbers.
Notes, Analysis, & Thoughts
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20
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The Rose That Grew from
Concrete: Autobiographical
Tupac Shakur (1999)
Did u hear about the rose that grew from a crack
in the concrete
Proving nature’s laws wrong it learned 2 walk
without having feet
Funny it seems but by keeping its dreams
it learned 2 breathe fresh air
Long live the rose that grew from concrete
when no one else even cared!
7
5
while dissecting frogs in biology class
scrut discovers the intricacies of the
scooped neckline in his lab partner’s dress
Notes, Analysis, & Thoughts
George Roberts (1983)
oh madame curie
oh louis pasteur
oh ponce de leon
and christopher columbus
you have nothing on me today
Notes, Analysis, & Thoughts
Sidekicks
Ronald Koertge (1982)
They were never handsome and often came
with a hormone imbalance manifested by corpulence,
a yodel of a voice or ears big as kidneys.
But each was brave. More than once a sidekick
has thrown himself in front of our hero in order
5
to receive the bullet or blow meant for that
perfect face and body.
Thankfully, heroes never die in movies and leave
the sidekick alone. He would not stand for it.
Gabby or Pat, Pancho or Andy remind us of a part
10
of ourselves,
the dependent part that can never grow up,
the part that is painfully eager to please,
always wants a hug and never gets enough.
Who could sit in a darkened theatre, listen
15
to the organ music and watch the best
of ourselves lowered into the ground while
the rest stood up there, tears pouring off
that enormous nose.
8
Notes, Analysis, & Thoughts
Idaho
Howard Horowitz (1986)
It’s Great
to plant
trees in
Idaho, when
snow melt roars
in the Clearwater,
& when frost crisps
the brushfields red
in the Bitterroots.
Steep ridges of shrub
and rock, young larch
and fir, bleached snags:
remember the great fire
of 1910, when Pulaski
forced his men into a
mineshaft, to survive;
when the train got away
from Wallace on flaming tracks.
Luck still touches some of us: remember
the crummy, upside-down in a pond (the consequence of driving to camp without headlights
after the bar closed in Elk City). Good money
and good times on a Kelly Creek clearcut, in a
Pierce tavern, in the Grangeville Hotel. Remember
swimming holes on the Salmon, hot springs baths,
the log truck driver dancing with his daughter,
a bear with rose hip scat, a meteor shower in
Orion, the woman that night in Orofino. Remember
Idaho is too Great to pass nonstop on the freeway.
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Sure
Notes, Analysis, & Thoughts
Arlene Tribbia (2004)
I miss my brother sure
he drank Robitussin
washed down with beer
sure he smoked dope
& shot heroin
& went to prison
for selling to
an undercover cop
& sure he robbed
the town’s only hot dog stand,
Gino’s like I overheard
while I laid on my bed
staring up at the stars
under slanted curtains
& sure he used to
leave his two year old
son alone so he could
score on the street
but before all this
my brother sure
used to swing me up
onto his back, run
me around dizzy
through hallways and rooms
& we’d laugh & laugh
fall onto the bed finally
and he’d tickle me
to death sure
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Notes, Analysis, & Thoughts
Arbor
Sa'ad M. Al-Obaidi (2012)
perhaps the
purpose
of leaves is to
conceal
the weak,
brittle bones of the tree.
if
they're
anything like us,
that is.
5
10
10
There is No Word
Notes, Analysis, & Thoughts
Tony Hoagland (2012)
There isn’t a word for walking out of the grocery store
with a gallon jug of milk in a plastic sack
that should have been bagged in double layers
—so that before you are even out the door
you feel the weight of the jug dragging
the bag down, stretching the thin
5
plastic handles longer and longer
and you know it’s only a matter of time until
bottom suddenly splits.
There is no single, unimpeachable word
for that vague sensation of something
moving away from you
10
as it exceeds its elastic capacity
—which is too bad, because that is the word
I would like to use to describe standing on the street 15
chatting with an old friend
as the awareness grows in me that he is
no longer a friend, but only an acquaintance,
a person with whom I never made the effort—
until this moment, when as we say goodbye
I think we share a feeling of relief,
20
a recognition that we have reached
the end of a pretense,
though to tell the truth
what I already am thinking about
is my gratitude for language—
how it will stretch just so much and no farther;
how there are some holes it will not cover up;
how it will move, if not inside, then
around the circumference of almost anything—
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30
how, over the years, it has given me
back all the hours and days, all the
plodding love and faith, all the
misunderstandings and secrets
I have willingly poured into it.
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35
Did I Miss Anything?
Notes, Analysis, & Thoughts
Tom Wayman (1993)
Nothing. When we realized you weren’t here
we sat with our hands folded on our desks
in silence, for the full two hours
Everything. I gave an exam worth
40 percent of the grade for this term
and assigned some reading due today
on which I’m about to hand out a quiz
worth 50 percent
5
Nothing. None of the content of this course
has value or meaning
Take as many days off as you like:
any activities we undertake as a class
I assure you will not matter either to you or me
and are without purpose
10
Everything. A few minutes after we began last time
a shaft of light suddenly descended and an angel
or other heavenly being appeared
and revealed to us what each woman or man must do
to attain divine wisdom in this life and
the hereafter
This is the last time the class will meet
before we disperse to bring the good news to all people
on earth.
15
20
Nothing. When you are not present
how could something significant occur?
25
Everything. Contained in this classroom
is a microcosm of human experience
assembled for you to query and examine and ponder
This is not the only place such an opportunity has been
gathered
30
but it was one place
And you weren’t here
12
Notes, Analysis, & Thoughts
The .38
Ted Joans
I hear the man downstairs slapping the hell out of his adulteress wife again
I hear him push and shove her around the overcrowded room
I hear his wife scream and beg for mercy
I hear him tell her there is no mercy
I hear the blows as they land on her beautiful body
I hear glasses and pots and pans falling
I hear her fleeing from the room
I hear them running up the stairs
I hear her outside my door
I hear him bang her head on my door
I hear him trying to drag her away from my door
I hear her hands desperate on my doorknob
I hear the blows of her head against my door
I hear him drag her down the stairs
I hear her head bounce from step to step
I hear them again in their room
I hear a loud smack across her face (I guess)
I hear her groan — then
I hear the eerie silence
I hear him open the top drawer of his bureau (the .38 lives there)
I hear the fast beat of my heart
I heart the drops of perspiration fall from my brow
I hear him yell I warned you
I hear him say damn you I warned you and now it’s too late
I hear the loud report of the thirty eight caliber revolver then
I hear it again and again the Smith and Wesson
I hear the bang bang bang of four death dealing bullets
I hear my heart beat faster and louder — then again
I hear the eerier silence
I hear him walk out of their overcrowded room
I hear him walk up the steps
I hear him come toward my door
I hear his hand on the doorknob
I hear the doorknob click
I hear the door slowly open
I hear him step into my room
I hear the click of the thirty eight before the firing pin hits the bullet
I hear the loud blast of the powder exploding in the chamber of the .38
I hear the heavy lead nose of the bullet swiftly cutting its way through the
barrel of the .38
I hear it emerge into space from the .38
I hear the bullet of death flying toward my head the .38
I hear it coming faster than sound the .38
I hear it coming closer to my sweaty forehead the .38
I hear its weird whistle the .38
I hear it give off a steamlike noise when it cuts through my sweat the .38
I hear it singe my skin as its enters my head the .38 and
I hear death saying, Hello, I’m here!
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Fun
Notes, Analysis, & Thoughts
Wyn Cooper (1984)
"All I want is to have a little fun
Before I die," says the man next to me
Out of nowhere, apropos of nothing. He says
His name's William but I'm sure he's Bill
Or Billy, Mac or Buddy; he's plain ugly to me,
And I wonder if he's ever had fun in his life.
5
We are drinking beer at noon on Tuesday,
In a bar that faces a giant car wash.
The good people of the world are washing their cars
On their lunch hours, hosing and scrubbing
10
As best they can in skirts and suits.
They drive their shiny Datsuns and Buicks
Back to the phone company, the record store,
The genetic engineering lab, but not a single one
Appears to be having fun like Billy and me.
15
I like a good beer buzz early in the day,
And Billy likes to peel the labels
From his bottles of Bud and shred them on the bar.
Then he lights every match in an oversized pack,
Letting each one burn down to his thick fingers
Before blowing and cursing them out.
A happy couple enters the bar, dangerously close
To one another, like this is a motel,
But they clean up their act when we give them
A Look. One quick beer and they're out,
Down the road and in the next state
For all I care, smiling like idiots.
We cover sports and politics and once,
When Billy burns his thumb and lets out a yelp,
The bartender looks up from his want-ads.
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25
30
Otherwise the bar is ours, and the day and the night
And the car wash too, the matches and the Buds
And the clean and dirty cars, the sun and the moon
And every motel on this highway. It's ours, you hear?
And we've got plans, so relax and let us in—
35
All we want is to have a little fun.
14
Notes, Analysis, & Thoughts
School Spirit Skit 2
Kanye West (2004)
You keep it going man
You keep those books rolling
You pick up all those books that your gonna read
That your not gonna remember
And you keep it rolling man.
You get that associates degree okay?
Then you get your bachelors degree
Then you get your masters
Then you get your masters, masters
Them you get your doctrine
You go man!
And then when everyone says quit,
You show them those degrees man.
When everyone says
"Hey your not working, your not making any money"
You say
"You look at my degrees, and you look at my life, Yeah, im 52
So what? I'm smart
I'm so smart
And im in school
All these guys out here making money
Other ways
And im spending mine to be smart!
You know why buddy?
Cause when I die buddy
You know whats gonna keep me warm?
Thats right.
Those degrees.
Notes, Analysis, & Thoughts
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Deliberate
Amy Uyematsu (1997)
So by sixteen we move in packs
learn to strut and slide
in deliberate lowdown rhythm
talk in a syn/co/pa/ted beat
because we want so bad
to be cool, never to be mistaken
for white, even when we leave
these rowdier L.A. streets—
remember how we paint our eyes
like gangsters
flash our legs in nylons
sassy black high heels
or two inch zippered boots
stack them by the door at night
next to Daddy’s muddy gardening shoes.
15
5
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15
Tom’s Diner
Notes, Analysis, & Thoughts
Suzanne Vega (1981)
I am sitting in the morning
At the diner on the corner
I am waiting at the counter
For the man to pour the coffee
And he fills it only halfway
And before I even argue
He is looking out the window
At somebody coming in
"It is always nice to see you"
Says the man behind the counter
To the woman who has come in
She is shaking her umbrella
And I look the other way
As they are kissing their hellos
I'm pretending not to see them
Instead I pour the milk
I open up the paper
There's a story of an actor
Who had died while he was drinking
It was no one I had heard of
And I'm turning to the horoscope
And looking for the funnies
When I'm feeling someone watching me
And so I raise my head
There's a woman on the outside
Looking inside, does she see me?
No she does not really see me
'Cause she sees her own reflection
And I'm trying not to notice
That she's hitching up her skirt
And while she's straightening her stockings
Her hair is getting wet
Oh, this rain it will continue
Through the morning as I'm listening
To the bells of the cathedral
I am thinking of your voice...
And of the midnight picnic
Once upon a time
Before the rain began…
I finish up my coffee
It's time to catch the train
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Lines
Notes, Analysis, & Thoughts
Martha Collins (1988)
Draw a line. Write a line. There.
Stay in line, hold the line, a glance
between the lines is fine but don't
turn corners, cross, cut in, go over
or out, between two points of no
5
return's a line of flight, between
two points of view's a line of vision.
But a line of thought is rarely
straight, an open line's no party
line, however fine your point.
10
A line of fire communicates, but drop
your weapons and drop your line,
consider the shortest distance from x
to y, let x be me, let y be you.
Notes, Analysis, & Thoughts
Invisible Boundaries
(Límites invisibles)
Ivette Álvarez
I’m surrounded by a society that expects nothing of me
other than to become a regular, tired housewife.
I speak my mind and it’s considered rude.
When I speak with my peers
I’m told that I speak like
5
a white girl.
Don’t they realize we could
go beyond the stereotypes that
lock us down and judge us?
I walk the streets and I become frantic.
10
I desperately want
out of this cycle.
I refuse to have my name
added to the list of nobodies who
didn’t become anything because they
weren’t strong enough to fight.
I want to become
someone important. I must
overcome the invisible boundaries.
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15
Fat is Not a Fairy Tale
Notes, Analysis, & Thoughts
Jane Yolen (2000)
I am thinking of a fairy tale,
Cinder Elephant,
Sleeping Tubby,
Snow Weight,
where the princess is not
anorexic, wasp-waisted,
flinging herself down the stairs.
I am thinking of a fairy tale,
Hansel and Great,
Repoundsel,
Bounty and the Beast,
where the beauty
has a pillowed breast,
and fingers plump as sausage.
I am thinking of a fairy tale
that is not yet written,
for a teller not yet born,
for a listener not yet conceived,
for a world not yet won,
where everything round is good:
the sun, wheels, cookies, and the princess.
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Notes, Analysis, & Thoughts
For My Daughter
David Ignatow (1993)
When I die choose a star
and name it after me
that you may know
I have not abandoned
or forgotten you.
You were such a star to me,
following you through birth
and childhood, my hand
in your hand.
When I die
choose a star and name it
after me so that I may shine
down on you, until you join
me in darkness and silence
together.
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10
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Overworked
Notes, Analysis, & Thoughts
Lucy Partlow (2001)
After we
ovulate
menstruate
gestate
lactate
procreate
and prostrate ourselves to creation . . .
After we
raise children
raise grandchildren
raise men
raise hell
and raise the dead in tribal dance . . .
After we
clean house
clean clothes
clean collard greens
clean people’s stores
and clean up the aftermath of wars . . .
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After we save souls
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save schools
save trees
save whales
and save the world from eternal damnation . . .
After we do
the impossible
the improbable
the unthinkable . . .
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Must we also put out the trash?
Notes, Analysis, & Thoughts
Crumbs of Cruelty
Daniel Klawitter (2012)
After starving her of nourishment for years,
he knew just the right words that would hurt her best.
And when he spoke them at last to her famished ears
her face crumbled like cake cooked in arsenic.
As for him, he was hungry as a horse, eating up
every last morsel of her misery without remorse.
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5
The Rider
Notes, Analysis, & Thoughts
Naomi Shihab Nye (1998)
A boy told me
if he roller-skated fast enough
his loneliness couldn’t catch up to him,
the best reason I ever heard
for trying to be a champion.
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What I wonder tonight
pedaling hard down King William Street
is if it translates to bicycles.
A victory! To leave your loneliness
panting behind you on some street corner
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while you float free into a cloud of sudden azaleas,
pink petals that have never felt loneliness,
no matter how slowly they fell.
Notes, Analysis, & Thoughts
End of April
Phillis Levin (1996)
Under a cherry tree
I found a robin’s egg,
broken, but not shattered.
I had been thinking of you,
and was kneeling in the grass
among fallen blossoms
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when I saw it: a blue scrap,
a delicate toy, as light
as confetti
It didn’t seem real,
but nature will do such things
from time to time.
I looked inside:
it was glistening, hollow,
a perfect shell
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except for the missing crown,
which made it possible
to look inside.
What had been there
is gone now
and lives in my heart
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where, periodically,
it opens up its wings,
tearing me apart.
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Notes, Analysis, & Thoughts
Foul Shot
Edwin A. Hoey (1989)
With two 60’s stuck on the scoreboard
And two seconds hanging on the clock,
The solemn boy in the center of eyes,
Squeezed by silence,
Seeks out the line with his feet,
Soothes his hands along his uniform,
Gently drums the ball against the floor,
Then measures the waiting net,
Raises the ball on his right hand,
Balances it with his left,
Calms it with his fingertips,
Breaths,
Crouches,
Waits,
And then through a stretching of silence,
Nudges it upward.
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10
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The ball
Slides up and out,
Lands,
Leans,
Wobbles,
Wavers,
Hesitates,
Exasperates,
Plays it coy
Until every face begs with unsounding screams —
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And then
And then
And then
Right before ROAR-UP,
Dives down and through.
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Dusting
Notes, Analysis, & Thoughts
Julia Alvarez (1984)
Each morning I wrote my name
on the dusty cabinet, then crossed
the dining room table in script, scrawled
in capitals on the backs of chairs,
practicing signatures like scales
while Mother followed, squirting
linseed from a bumpy can
into a crumpled-up flannel.
She erased my fingerprints
from the bookshelf and rocker,
polished mirrors on the desk
scribbled with my alphabets.
My name was swallowed in the towel
with which she jeweled the table tops.
The grain surfaced in the oak
and the pine grew luminous.
But I refused with every mark
to be like her, anonymous.
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Notes, Analysis, & Thoughts
The Grammar Lesson
Steve Kowit (1995)
A noun's a thing. A verb's the thing it does.
An adjective is what describes the noun.
In "The can of beets is filled with purple fuzz"
of and with are prepositions. The's
an article, a can's a noun,
a noun's a thing. A verb's the thing it does.
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A can can roll - or not. What isn't was
or might be, might meaning not yet known.
"Our can of beets is filled with purple fuzz"
is present tense. While words like our and us
are pronouns - i.e. it is moldy, they are icky brown.
A noun's a thing; a verb's the thing it does.
Is is a helping verb. It helps because
filled isn't a full verb. Can's what our owns
in "Our can of beets is filled with purple fuzz."
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See? There's almost nothing to it. Just
memorize these rules...or write them down!
A noun's a thing, a verb's the thing it does.
The can of beets is filled with purple fuzz.
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Notes, Analysis, & Thoughts
Poop
Gerald Locklin (1972)
my daughter, blake, is in kindergarten.
they are teaching her to be a docile citizen
and, incidentally, to read.
concurrently, like many of us,
she has become a trifle anal compulsive.
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complications ensue.
i ask her what she has learned today.
she says, “i learned the pledge of allegiance.”
“how does it go?” i ask.
“it goes,” she says, “i poop allegiance
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to the poop of the united poops of ameripoop.”
“that’s good,” i say, “that’s very good. what else?”
“o say can you poop, by the dawn’s early poop,
what so proudly we pooped…”
for christmas, she improvises,
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“away in a pooper, all covered with poop,
the little lord poopus
lay pooping his poop.”
she has personalized other traditional favorites
as well. someone tried to teach her the “our father.”
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her version goes, “our pooper, who art in poopland,
hallowed be thy poop. thy poopdom poop,
thy poop be pooped, on earth as it is in poopland.”
surely hemingway would feel one-upped.
surely the second pooping is at hand.
a fortune teller told us blake would be
our greatest sorrow and our greatest joy.
already it is true.
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splash
Notes, Analysis, & Thoughts
Charles Bukowski (1993)
the illusion is that you are simply
reading this poem.
the reality is that this is
more than a
poem.
this is a beggar's knife.
this is a tulip.
this is a soldier marching
through Madrid.
this is you on your
death bed.
this is Li Po laughing
underground.
this is not a god-damned
poem.
this is a horse asleep.
a butterfly in
your brain.
this is the devil's
circus.
you are not reading this
on a page.
the page is reading
you.
feel it?
it's like a cobra. it's a hungry eagle circling the room.
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20
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this is not a poem. poems are dull,
they make you sleep.
these words force you
to a new
madness.
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you have been blessed, you have been pushed into a
blinding area of
light.
the elephant dreams
with you
now.
the curve of space
bends and
laughs.
you can die now.
you can die now as
people were meant to
die:
great,
victorious,
hearing the music,
being the music,
roaring,
roaring,
roaring.
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45
50
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The Purpose of Poetry
Notes, Analysis, & Thoughts
Jared Carter (1993)
This old man grazed thirty head of cattle
in a valley just north of the covered bridge
on the Mississinewa, where the reservoir
stands today. Had a black border collie
and a half-breed sheep dog with one eye.
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The dogs took the cows to pasture each morning
and brought them home again at night
and herded them into the barn. The old man
would slip a wooden bar across both doors.
One dog slept on the front porch, one on the back.
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He was waiting there one evening
listening to the animals coming home
when a man from the courthouse stopped
to tell him how the new reservoir
was going to flood all his property.
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They both knew he was too far up in years
to farm anywhere else. He had a daughter
who lived in Florida, in a trailer park.
He should sell now and go stay with her.
The man helped bar the doors before he left.
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He had only known dirt under his fingernails
and trips to town on Saturday mornings
since he was a boy. Always he had been around
cattle, and trees, and land near the river.
Evenings by the barn he could hear the dogs
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talking to each other as they brought in
the herd; and the cows answering them.
It was the clearest thing he knew. That night
he shot both dogs and then himself.
The purpose of poetry is to tell us about life.
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Vocabulary: Define Each Term (and Use When You Talk About Poetry!)
alliteration and assonance
allusion
anaphora
caesura
diction
explication
form
internal rhyme vs. end rhyme
metaphor vs. simile
meter
mood
repetition/refrain
slant rhyme/half rhyme/imperfect rhyme
tone
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