Poetry
The Poem as a Dramatic Situation
Every poem has a speaker.
Poetry is a kind of speech. There is always
a speaker. Who is he or she? Sometimes
the poet speaks in his own voice, telling
his own thoughts and feelings. Sometimes
he speaks through an imagined
character, as if he were writing a play.
Lament
Listen, children;
Dan shall have the pennies
Your father is dead.
To save in his bank;
From his old coats
I’ll make you little jackets;
I’ll make you little trousers
From his old pants.
There’ll be in his pockets
Things he used to put there,
Keys and pennies
Covered with tobacco.
Ann shall have the keys
To make a pretty noise with.
Life must go on,
Though good men die;
Ann, eat your breakfast;
Dan, take your medicine;
Life must go on;
I just forgot why.
---Edna St. Vincent Millay
Lament
Listen, children;
Dan shall have the pennies
Your father is dead.
To save in his bank;
From his old coats
I’ll make you little jackets;
I’ll make you little trousers
From his old pants.
There’ll be in his pockets
Things he used to put there,
Keys and pennies
Covered with tobacco.
Ann shall have the keys
To make a pretty noise with.
What attitude does the
author reveal about boys
and girls?
Life must go on,
Though good men die;
Ann, eat your breakfast;
Dan, take your medicine;
Life must go on;
I just forgot why.
---Edna St. Vincent Millay
1. Who is the speaker?
2. Though this poem was written nearly a century ago, how is it relevant today?
3. How does the author tell us responsibility is now passed to the children?
Lament
Edna St. Vincent Millay
(February 22, 1892 –
Listen, children;
Dan shall have the pennies
Your father is dead.
To save in his bank;
From his old coats
I’ll make you little jackets;
I’ll make you little trousers
From his old pants.
There’ll be in his pockets
Things he used to put there,
Keys and pennies
Covered with tobacco.
Ann shall have the keys
To make a pretty noise with.
Life must go on,
Though good men die;
Ann, eat your breakfast;
Dan, take your medicine;
Life must go on;
I just forgot why.
---Edna St. Vincent Millay
October 19, 1950) was an
American lyrical poet and
playwright and the first
woman to receive the
Pulitzer Prize for Poetry.
She was also known for her
unconventional, bohemian
lifestyle and her many love
affairs with men and women.
She used the pseudonym
Nancy Boyd for her prose
work.
First Lesson
The thing to remember about fathers is, they’re men.
A girl has to keep that in mind.
They are dragon-seekers, bent on impossible rescues.
Scratch any father, you find
Someone chock-full of qualms and romantic terrors,
Believing change is a threat-Like your first shoes with heels on, like your first bicycle
It took such months to get.
Walk in a strange woods, they warn you about the snakes there.
Climb and they fear you’ll fall.
Books, angular boys, or swimming in deep water-Fathers mistrust them all.
Men are worriers. It is difficult for them
To learn what they must learn;
How you have a journey to take and very likely,
For a while, will not return.
-Phillis McGinley
First Lesson
4. Who is the speaker in
The thing to remember about fathers is, they’re men.
First Lesson?
A girl has to keep that in mind.
5. What is the little girl’s
They are dragon-seekers, bent on impossible rescues.
view of their father?
Scratch any father, you find
6. What is a father’s main
Someone chock-full of qualms and romantic terrors,
Believing change is a threat-Like your first shoes with heels on, like your first bicycle
It took such months to get.
job with his daughter?
7. What is an “angular
boy”?
8. Explain the last two
Walk in a strange woods, they warn you about the snakes there.
Climb and they fear you’ll fall.
Books, angular boys, or swimming in deep water-Fathers mistrust them all.
Men are worriers. It is difficult for them
To learn what they must learn;
How you have a journey to take and very likely,
For a while, will not return.
-Phillis McGinley
lines of First Lesson.
The speaker of a poem speaks from
a personal situation. Usually he is reacting
to something.
Mother to Son
Well, son, I’ll tell you;
Life for me ain’t been no crystal stair.
It’s had tacks in it,
And splinters,
And boards torn up.
And places with no carpet on the floor -But all the time
I’se been a-climbin’ on,
And reachin’ landin’s,
And turning corners
And sometimes goin’ in the dark
When there ain’t no light.
So , boy, don’t you turn back.
Don’t you set down on the steps
‘Cause you find it’s kinder hard.
Don’t you fall now-For I’se still goin’, honey
I’se still climbin’
And life for me ain’t been no crystal stair.
-Langston Hughes
Mother to Son
Well, son, I’ll tell you;
Life for me ain’t been no crystal stair.
It’s had tacks in it,
And splinters,
And boards torn up.
And places with no carpet on the floor -But all the time
I’se been a-climbin’ on,
And reachin’ landin’s,
And turning corners
And sometimes goin’ in the dark
When there ain’t no light.
So , boy, don’t you turn back.
Don’t you set down on the steps
‘Cause you find it’s kinder hard.
Don’t you fall now-For I’se still goin’, honey
I’se still climbin’
And life for me ain’t been no crystal stair.
-Langston Hughes
9. Who is the speaker in Mother to
Son?
10. Crystal stair is a metaphor for
what?
11. What do lines 3,4,5 & 6 tell you
about the speaker’s life?
12. In the second stanza, the speaker
talks of her attitude toward life. How
would you describe it?
13. What advice does the speaker
give her son?
Mother to Son
Well, son, I’ll tell you;
Life for me ain’t been no crystal stair.
It’s had tacks in it,
And splinters,
And boards torn up.
And places with no carpet on the floor -But all the time
I’se been a-climbin’ on,
And reachin’ landin’s,
And turning corners
And sometimes goin’ in the dark
When there ain’t no light.
So , boy, don’t you turn back.
Don’t you set down on the steps
‘Cause you find it’s kinder hard.
Don’t you fall now-For I’se still goin’, honey
I’se still climbin’
And life for me ain’t been no crystal stair.
-Langston Hughes
Langston Hughes (February 1, 1902 –
May 22, 1967) was an American poet,
novelist, playwright, short story writer,
and newspaper columnist. Hughes is
best known for his work during the
Harlem Renaissance.
Jenny Kiss’d Me
Jenny kiss’d me when we met,
Jumping from the chair she set in;
Time, you thief, who love to get
Sweets into your list, put that in!
Say I’m weary, say I’m sad,
Say that health and wealth have missed me,
Say I’m growing old but add,
Jenny kiss’d me. -Leigh Hunt
Jenny Kiss’d Me
Jenny kiss’d me when we met,
Jumping from the chair she set in;
Time, you thief, who love to get
Sweets into your list, put that in!
Say I’m weary, say I’m sad,
Say that health and wealth have missed me,
Say I’m growing old but add,
Jenny kiss’d me. -Leigh Hunt
Jenny Kiss’d Me When We Met
Jenny kiss’d me when we met,
Jumping from the chair she set in;
Time, you thief, who love to get
Sweets into your list, put that in!
Say I’m weary, say I’m old,
Say that health and wealth have missed me,
Say I’ve had a filthy cold,
Since Jenny kiss’d me. -Paul Dehn
Jenny Kiss’d Me
Such Stuff as Dreams
Jenny kiss’d me when we met,
Jumping from the chair she set in;
Time, you thief, who love to get
Sweets into your list, put that in!
Jenny kiss’d me in a dream;
So did Elsie, Lucy, Cora
Bessie, Gwendolyn, Eupheme
Alice, Adelaide, and Dora.
Say monogamy has miss’d me,
But don’t say to Dr. Freud
Jenny kiss’d me. -unknown
Say I’m weary, say I’m sad,
Say that health and wealth have missed me,
Say I’m growing old but add,
Jenny kiss’d me. -Leigh Hunt
Jenny Kiss’d Me When We Met
Jenny kiss’d me when we met,
Jumping from the chair she set in;
Time, you thief, who love to get
Sweets into your list, put that in!
Say I’m weary, say I’m old,
Say that health and wealth have missed me,
Say I’ve had a filthy cold,
Since Jenny kiss’d me. -Paul Dehn
Jenny Kiss’d Me
Such Stuff as Dreams
Jenny kiss’d me when we met,
Jumping from the chair she set in;
Time, you thief, who love to get
Sweets into your list, put that in!
Jenny kiss’d me in a dream;
So did Elsie, Lucy, Cora
Bessie, Gwendolyn, Eupheme
Alice, Adelaide, and Dora.
Say monogamy has miss’d me,
But don’t say to Dr. Freud
Jenny kiss’d me. -unknown
Say I’m weary, say I’m sad,
Say that health and wealth have missed me,
Say I’m growing old but add,
Jenny kiss’d me. -Leigh Hunt
Jenny Kiss’d Me When We Met
Jenny kiss’d me when we met,
Jumping from the chair she set in;
Time, you thief, who love to get
Sweets into your list, put that in!
Say I’m weary, say I’m old,
Say that health and wealth have missed me,
Say I’ve had a filthy cold,
Since Jenny kiss’d me. -Paul Dehn
14. Who is the speaker in these
three poems?
15. In the first poem, what is the
author’s view of Jenny?
16. In the second poem, do you
think the author found Jenny to be
the same person he anticipated her
to be?
17. What is the author’s view of
women and Jenny specifically in
the final poem?
Every poem is characterized by a
distinctive tone. The tone of a poem, like
meaning, is the consequence of all its
elements sounding together like matched
bells. But the single most important
influence on tone is the speaker’s
consciousness of his situation and his
audience.
My Papa’s Waltz
The whiskey on your breath
Could make a small boy dizzy;
But I hung on like death:
Such waltzing was not easy.
We romped until the pans
Slid from the kitchen shelf;
My mother’s countenance
Could not unfrown itself.
The hand that held my wrist
Was battered on one knuckle;
At every step I missed
My right ear scraped a buckle.
You beat time on my head
With a palm caked hard by dirt;
Then you waltzed me off to bed
Still clinging to your shirt.
-Theodore Roethke
My Papa’s Waltz
The whiskey on your breath
Could make a small boy dizzy;
But I hung on like death:
Such waltzing was not easy.
We romped until the pans
Slid from the kitchen shelf;
My mother’s countenance
Could not unfrown itself.
The hand that held my wrist
Was battered on one knuckle;
At every step I missed
My right ear scraped a buckle.
You beat time on my head
With a palm caked hard by dirt;
Then you waltzed me off to bed
Still clinging to your shirt.
-Theodore Roethke
18. If you close your eyes, what kind of
scene does this poem evoke in your
imagination.
19. If one were to state that the tone
of this poem is one of love of a
father for his child, what language
in the poem would support this.
20. Does the mother approve of
“the waltz?”
My Papa’s Waltz
The whiskey on your breath
Could make a small boy dizzy;
But I hung on like death:
Such waltzing was not easy.
We romped until the pans
Slid from the kitchen shelf;
My mother’s countenance
Could not unfrown itself.
The hand that held my wrist
Was battered on one knuckle;
At every step I missed
My right ear scraped a buckle.
You beat time on my head
With a palm caked hard by dirt;
Then you waltzed me off to bed
Still clinging to your shirt.
-Theodore Roethke
Theodore Huebner Roethke (IPA: ['ɹ
ɛ t.ki]; RET-key) (May 25, 1908 –
August 1, 1963) was a United States
poet, who published several volumes
of poetry characterized by its rhythm
and natural imagery. He was awarded
the Pulitzer Prize for poetry in 1954
for his book, The Waking.
Silence Is Golden
If I had a pistol to hold in my hand
I’d hunt down and silence the good humor man.
I’d pour sticky ice cream all over his wound
and stop him forever from playing that tune.
For silence is golden on a soft summer day.
It’s a pity to let strangers take it away.
If ever I get me a license to kill
I’ll war and juke box and jackhammer till
the wind and the rain rust up all their parts
and worms and woodchucks dissect their hearts.
For silence is golden and hard to be found
and killed far too often by the jackhammer’s sound.
If diesels and dump trucks and gossips were words
I’d feed them like kernals of corn to the birds
and then all the thumping and bumping and pounds
would come out forever like pretty bird sounds.
For silence is golden and soft as a tear.
The next sound of empty is the next voice you’ll hear.
-Rod McKuen
Silence Is Golden
If I had a pistol to hold in my hand
I’d hunt down and silence the good humor man.
I’d pour sticky ice cream all over his wound
and stop him forever from playing that tune.
For silence is golden on a soft summer day.
It’s a pity to let strangers take it away.
If ever I get me a license to kill
I’ll war and juke box and jackhammer till
the wind and the rain rust up all their parts
and worms and woodchucks dissect their hearts.
For silence is golden and hard to be found
and killed far too often by the jackhammer’s sound.
If diesels and dump trucks and gossips were words
I’d feed them like kernals of corn to the birds
and then all the thumping and bumping and pounds
would come out forever like pretty bird sounds.
For silence is golden and soft as a tear.
The next sound of empty is the next voice you’ll hear.
-Rod McKuen
21. This poem portrays to
distinctive tones. What are
they?
22. McKuen uses very
strong langauge to contrast
with his
desire for what?
23. What rhyme structure
does this poem use?
Silence Is Golden
Rod McKuen (born April 29, 1933) is a
If I had a pistol to hold in my hand
I’d hunt down and silence the good humor man.
I’d pour sticky ice cream all over his wound
and stop him forever from playing that tune.
singer, instrumental in the revitalization of
For silence is golden on a soft summer day.
It’s a pity to let strangers take it away.
bestselling American poet, composer, and
popular poetry that took place in the 1960s
and early 1970s.
He became an icon across college
campuses for his ability to capture in verse
the feelings of anxiety, love, confusion, and
hope that were common during the Vietnam
If ever I get me a license to kill
I’ll war and juke box and jackhammer till
the wind and the rain rust up all their parts
and worms and woodchucks dissect their hearts.
era. His public readings had the drawing
For silence is golden and hard to be found
and killed far too often by the jackhammer’s sound.
a dozen languages and sold over 65 million
If diesels and dump trucks and gossips were words
I’d feed them like kernals of corn to the birds
and then all the thumping and bumping and pounds
would come out forever like pretty bird sounds.
For silence is golden and soft as a tear.
The next sound of empty is the next voice you’ll hear.
-Rod McKuen
power of a rock concert.
McKuen’s commercial success is
unparalleled in the field of modern poetry.
His poetic works have been translated into
copies. Throughout his career he has
continued to enjoy
sell-out concerts
around the world
and appears regularly
at New York’s famed
Carnegie Hall.
The speaker of a poem speaks to some
kind of audience. The audience may be a
person or persons imagined in a poem or a
group of hearers or listeners altogether
outside the poem -- in short, US. Who is
the audience in the following poems.
To A Photographer
I have known love and hate and work and fight;
I have lived largely. I have dreamed and planned.
And time, the Sculptor, with a master hand
Has graven on my face for all men’s sight
Deep lines of joy and sorrow, growth and blight
Of labor and of service and command
---And now you show me this, this waxen, bland
And placid face, unlined unwrinkled, white.
This is not I --this fatuous thing you show,
Retouched and smoothed and prettified to please,
Put back the wrinkles and tears achieving these,
Out of the pain, the struggle and the wrack
These are the scars of my battle--put them back!
--Berton Braley
To A Photographer
I have known love and hate and work and fight;
I have lived largely. I have dreamed and planned.
And time, the Sculptor, with a master hand
Has graven on my face for all men’s sight
Deep lines of joy and sorrow, growth and blight
Of labor and of service and command
---And now you show me this, this waxen, bland
And placid face, unlined unwrinkled, white.
24. What is the rhyme
scheme of this poem?
25. The poet claims
photographers have a
special power. What is that
power?
26. What does the poet
wish his photographs
This is not I --this fatuous thing you show,
Retouched and smoothed and prettified to please, displayed.
Put back the wrinkles and tears achieving these,
Out of the pain, the struggle and the wrack
These are the scars of my battle--put them back!
--Berton Braley
To A Photographer
Berton Braley (29 January 1882 – 23 January
I have known love and hate and work and fight;
I have lived largely. I have dreamed and planned.
And time, the Sculptor, with a master hand
Has graven on my face for all men’s sight
Deep lines of joy and sorrow, growth and blight
Of labor and of service and command
---And now you show me this, this waxen, bland
And placid face, unlined unwrinkled, white.
and raised in Wisconsin, his father being a
This is not I --this fatuous thing you show,
Retouched and smoothed and prettified to please,
Put back the wrinkles and tears achieving these,
Out of the pain, the struggle and the wrack
These are the scars of my battle--put them back!
--Berton Braley
1966) was an American poet. He was born
judge who died when Berton Braley was
seven years old. At 16, Braley quit high
school and got a job working as a factory
hand at a plow plant. After a few years,
Braley went back to school and received his
high school diploma. Shortly thereafter he
discovered Tom Hood's poetry instructional
book The Rhymester.
He was a prolific writer, with verses in many
magazines, including Coal Age, American
Machinist, Nation's Business,
Forbes Magazine, Harper's
Magazine, Atlantic Monthly,
and the Saturday Evening
Post. He published twenty
books, about half of them
being poetry collections
The Hangman At Home
What does the hangman think about
When he goes home at night from work?
When he sits down with his wife and
Children for a cup of coffee and a
Plate of ham and eggs, do they ask
Him if it was a good day’s work
And everything went well or do they
Stay off some topics and talk about
The weather, baseball, politics
And the comic strips in the papers
And the movies? Do they look at his
Hands when he reaches for the coffee
Or the ham and eggs. If the little
Ones say, Daddy, play horse, here’s
A rope -- does he answer like a joke:
It’s a good and dandy world we live
In. And if a white face moon looks
In through a window where a baby girl
Sleeps and the moon-gleams mix with
Baby ears and baby hair -- the hangman -How does he act then? It must be easy
For Him. Anything is easy for a hangman,
I guess.
The Hangman At Home
27. Who is the poet speaking to?
What does the hangman think about
When he goes home at night from work?
When he sits down with his wife and
Children for a cup of coffee and a
Plate of ham and eggs, do they ask
Him if it was a good day’s work
And everything went well or do they
Stay off some topics and talk about
The weather, baseball, politics
And the comic strips in the papers
And the movies? Do they look at his
Hands when he reaches for the coffee
Or the ham and eggs. If the little
Ones say, Daddy, play horse, here’s
A rope -- does he answer like a joke:
It’s a good and dandy world we live
In. And if a white face moon looks
In through a window where a baby girl
Sleeps and the moon-gleams mix with
Baby ears and baby hair -- the hangman -How does he act then? It must be easy
For Him. Anything is easy for a hangman,
I guess.
-Carl Sandburg
28. Do you think a hangman can talk to his
family about his work?
29. When his children look at his
outstretched hand, what might they be
seeing?
30. Why is everything else in life so easy for a
hangman?
The Hangman At Home
What does the hangman think about
When he goes home at night from work?
When he sits down with his wife and
Children for a cup of coffee and a
Plate of ham and eggs, do they ask
Him if it was a good day’s work
And everything went well or do they
Stay off some topics and talk about
The weather, baseball, politics
And the comic strips in the papers
And the movies? Do they look at his
Hands when he reaches for the coffee
Or the ham and eggs. If the little
Ones say, Daddy, play horse, here’s
A rope -- does he answer like a joke:
It’s a good and dandy world we live
In. And if a white face moon looks
In through a window where a baby girl
Sleeps and the moon-gleams mix with
Baby ears and baby hair -- the hangman -How does he act then? It must be easy
For Him. Anything is easy for a hangman,
I guess.
Carl August Sandburg (January 6, 1878 – July 22,
1967) was an American poet, historian, novelist,
balladeer and folklorist. He was born in
Galesburg, Illinois of Swedish parents and died at
his home, named Connemara, in Flat Rock, North
Carolina.
H. L. Mencken called Carl Sandburg "indubitably
an American in every pulse-beat." He was a
successful journalist, poet, historian, biographer,
and autobiographer. During the course of his
career, Sandburg won two Pulitzer Prizes, one for
his biography of Abraham Lincoln (Abraham
Lincoln: The War Years)
and one for his collection
The Complete Poems of
Carl Sandburg.