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Micro teaching task

What is Poetry? An introduction
by

Hannah Farrington

on 7 October 2012

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Transcript of Micro teaching task

What is Poetry? Look at the handouts and decide:
which of these extracts
have been taken from poems? My example in verse: Capel Calvin By Idris Davies There's holy holy people
They are in capel bach-
They don't like surpliced choirs,
They don't like Sospan Fach.

They don't like Sunday concerts,
Or women playing ball,
They don't like Williams Parry much
Or Shakespeare at all.

They don't like beer or bishops,
Or pictures without texts,
They don't like any other
Of the nonconformist sects.

And when they go to Heaven
They won't like that too well,
For the music will be sweeter
Than the music played in Hell. How do we know that this is a poem? After a while she remembered that she still held the pieces of mushroom in her hands, and she set to work very carefully, nibbling first at one and then at the other, and growing sometimes shorter, and sometimes taller, until she had succeeded in bringing herself down to her usual height. Extract 1 'Arrietty, half dozing, gazed up at her painted ceiling. 'FLOR DE HAVANA' proclaimed the banners proudly. “Garantizados . . .Superiores . . .Non Plus Ultra . . .Esquisitos . . .” and the lovely gauzy ladies blew their trumpets, silently, triumphantly, on soundless notes of glee...' Extract 2 'A hundred yards away, at the bottom of the slope, ran the brook, no more than three feet wide, half-choked with king-cups, water-cress and blue brook-lime. The cart-track crossed by a brick culvert and climbed the opposite slope to a five-barred gate in the thorn hedge. The gate led into the lane.' Extract 3 There are strangers above me, below me and all around me and we are
all strange in this place of recent invention.

This city named for angels appears naked and stripped of
anything resembling the shaking of turtle shells, the songs of human voices on a summer night outside Okmulgee.

Yet, it's perpetually summer here, and beautiful. The shimmer of gods is
easier to perceive at sunrise or dusk,

when those who remember us here in the illusion of the marketplace
turn toward the changing of the sun and say our names. Extract 4 An extract from the poem, 'The Path to the Milky Way Leads Through Los Angeles' By Joy Harjo Christopher Logue 'Poetry cannot be defined, only experienced'
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