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The Celebration of Mothers Day

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Stephanie Vlamis

on 16 May 2014

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Transcript of The Celebration of Mothers Day

Woman Work
"Woman Work” is a poem depicting the routine of a domestic, traditional woman who performs her daily chores effectively but pleads for a break. She calls upon the elements of nature to give her strength, comfort and relief from her daily life and responsibilities.

As a housewife, she has to perform many chores. She has to tend her children, mend their clothes, mop
floor and do some shopping for their meals. Then she has to fry chicken, dry the baby, feed her animals, weed off her garden, press the shirts, dress her tots, cut the canes and clean up her whole house to make it beautiful and appealing.

Woman Work
by Maya Angelou

I've got the children to tend
The clothes to mend
The floor to mop
The food to shop
Then the chicken to fry
The baby to dry
I got company to feed
The garden to weed
I've got shirts to press
The tots to dress
The cane to be cut
I gotta clean up this hut
Then see about the sick
And the cotton to pick.

Shine on me, sunshine
Rain on me, rain
Fall softly, dewdrops
And cool my brow again.
I have the jelly to clear
And to face my Candy Crush fear
The Facebook Status to upload
To drive in the road
To take my kids to school
To make sure I look cool
The food not to burn
My lesson to learn
To tell my son to study
To swap all the candy
To feed the cat
To clean the mat

by Carol Anne Duffy
Maya Angelou
Born on April 4, 1928, in St. Louis, Missouri, writer and civil rights activist Maya Angelou is known for her 1969 memoir, 'I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings,' which made literary history as the first non fiction best-seller by an African-American woman. Multi-talented barely seems to cover the depth and breadth of Maya Angelou's accomplishments. She is an author, actress, screenwriter, dancer and poet. Maya Angelou experienced the cruelty of racial discrimination, but she also absorbed the unshakable faith and values of traditional African-American family, community, and culture.

playing with language
year 7 and 8

Storm, blow me from here
With your fiercest wind
Let me float across the sky
'Til I can rest again.

Fall gently, snowflakes
Cover me with white
Cold icy kisses and
Let me rest tonight.

Sun, rain, curving sky
Mountain, oceans, leaf and stone
Star shine, moon glow
You're all that I can call my own.
I’ve got the laundry to press,
And to clean up after my daughters mess.
I’ve got the onions to dice,
And to steam the rice.
I’ve got to feed the cat,
And to clean the mat.
I’ve got the floor to mop,
And the detergents to shop.
I’ve got stuff to find,
And bills to bind.
I’ve got the bed to make,
And the mousaka to bake.
It may seem much,
But I like playing mother at such.

I have to take the kids to school
Tell my husband to clean the pool,
Cook the meat,
The potatoes to heat,
Go to my job,
Cook corn on the cob,
The clothes to clean,
The children to be seen,
To help the kids with their work,
And tell my son not to call his friend a jerk.
All I want to do is play candy crush,
But in reality all I do is rush.
I want the wind to blow away my fears,
The sun to dry up my tears.
I want to wash away my worries in the shower,
I want my family to always have power

I’ve got the food to shop,
I’ve got the house to mop.
I’ve got the children to look after,
I have to prevent a disaster.
I’ve got the soup to make,
I’ve a shower to take.
I’ve got contracts to sign,
I’ve got tasks to assign,
I’ve got to get to work,
I’ve got to shout at a jerk,
I’ve got planners to check,
I’ve got to scratch my neck,
I’ve got faces to slap,
I need to take a nap!

I’ve got a car to drive,
I need to stay alive!
I’ve got buttons to press,
I’ve got files to compress.
I’ve got letters to write,
My son’s friend to invite,
I’ve got to walk a dog,
I’ve got to avoid the fog.
That’s the list for the day,
My sleep time is up.
I’ve got no time to waste,
Its time to wake up!

She’s got the lunchboxes to make,
The children to wake,
The babies to dress,
And to pick up their mess,
All the nappies to change,
All the rooms to arrange,
She’s got the floors to mop,
The food to shop,
To pick up the kids,
And cut them some figs,
To check the shops,
And iron the tops,
More food to cook,
She needs a new recipe book,
The kids are asleep,
Its time to sweep,

There goes another dime,
She is running out of time,
She’s about to fall asleep,
But then she hears a little scream,
A tiny voice crying “Mommy”,
“I’m having a bad dream.”
Musical beds during the night,
Until the morning daylight,
The button ‘replay’ is pressed,
Another day without rest.
Just one day to lie down,
That’s all I ask,
Underneath the bright sun,
It’ll be a lottery won
I’ve got the dishes to do
The coffee to brew
The groceries to buy
The clothes to dry
I’ve got the room to clean
And see the flowers bloom
I’ve got lunch to make
And a cake to bake
I have people to call
And hang pictures on the wall
I’ve got friends to see
Then to drink the tea
I’ve got alarms to set
Then to get some rest

Help me get through the day
Like a cloud in the sky
To sleep through the night
With no storms passing by
Listening to the sea roaring
And my friendships soaring
Living happily
I am now soaring.

you for watching !
This is the drudgery of her routine, which makes her life so monotonous and prosaic; but the woman in the poem is an idealist and wants to go in the lap of nature to give her relief and comfort. She calls for the sun, the moon, the mountains, cold ice, and the curving sky to take her away into the space so that she can fly there, forget her neck-breaking routine, and feel the freshness of natural elements to stimulate her body and soul to once again perform the next day’s chores.
year 8's poems
I am so darn tired
Please give me some rest
I just want to lie down
Sleep is simply the best
My phone’s battery is low
And my life is so busy
Dear God; I am doomed
Please make it a bit easy
Sometimes poetry can seem strange, not because the words are old-fashioned, but because of the ways in which the poet ‘plays’ with language.

A clip of thinder ever the reeftips
Sends like a bimb going iff!
My hurt thimps in my chest.

It’s dirk. The clods are block with reen.
The wand blues in the trays.
There’s no mean.

I smuggle ender my blinkets
And coddle my toddy.
Sloop will have drums in it.

Carol Anne Duffy changes the spelling of words and creates a strange, magical atmosphere. Something similar happens in Shakespeare’s Macbeth, when the three witches chant a magic spell.
Fillet of a fenny snake,
In the cauldron boil and bake;
Eye of Newt, and toe of frog,
Wool of bat and tongue of dog,
Adder’s fork and blind-worm’s sting,
Lizard’s leg and howlet’s wing,
For a charm of powerful trouble,
Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.

Act IV, Scene 1
By Dimitris Karapanayiotis
year 7's poem's
Figgets of a funny snook,
In the cooldrun bail and book.
dye if Nowt, ind toy if frope,
wand if bit ind tengue if drope.
Bladder's fang ind blond-wings stond.
Lezerd's long ind hewlot's wand.
Fer e chern if piwarfel trooble,
Lick e hill-breath bool ind boolble.
By Harry Jones
By Nikolias Avraamios
slice of cat nd tail of rat,
Spike of urchin,
Calf of cow and foal of horse,
Sure to leave a rueful curse,
Tongue of toad and stomaches acid,
To make the death agonized and rapid,
Might be the be-all and the end-all here.
By Dasha Ostasheva
Crocodiles eye and tail of mice,
Letters: m,y and cube of ice,
tongue of toad and piece of fog,
horn of goat and paw of dog,
This couldron brews essence of power,
There will be no for iother cover.
By Lisa Shebaeva
Follet of finny snake.
In the couldron boil and bake,
Eye of Nent and toy of freg,
Weel of bit and songue of deg,
Adder's fork and blond-worn's steng,
Lizards log and howlet's weng,
Eor a cherry powirful triuble,
Like a hill-breth boil and bebble.
By Polina Balanda
Cauldron boils, couldron bakes,
Filled with folis and some snakes
Filled with goblins eyes,
And some mermaids golden lice,
Filled with legs of frogs,
And some legs of dogs,
Filled with golden strawberry cake,
Come on Cauldron boil and bake.
An ear of a baby bunny
Poison blossom with a scent of funny
Hoof of horse and scorpion sting
Fin of shark and turtle that may sing,
Fresh dogs heart and spider legs,
Smell of a shunk and kiwi eggs
Lemon slime and cobra tail
Dragon tooth and mountain hail,
For all that lies upon the land
Wll have faces more plain than the sand.
By Egor Smirnov
By Anastasia
By Angelo Lianos
By George
By Nicole Papageorgiou
By Tiyana Mitchell
Full transcript