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an introduction to the form

Harry Peterson

on 5 August 2014

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Transcript of Poetry

Poetic Experiences
The Sonnet
The Ballad
Why write a poem?
What can you EXPRESS in a poem?
What is poetry?
What are some features of this type of text?
Strict rules for this love poem.
This is the poet's challenge!!

14 lines in length!
Strict end rhyme scheme
A,B, A,B, C,D, C,D E, F, E, F, GG!
Sonnets have a little couplet at the end, GG.
Hundreds of years ago. . .

What could inspire a poet to write a poem?
Haiku is an ancient poetic form
It is a haiku if it
has three brief lines
17 syllables in all
and perhaps . . .
The Narrative Poem
It's a narrative poem, if it tells a narrative.

What exactly is a narrative?
A persona + a place + an event = a narrative.

NARRATIVE POEMS. . . let us observe the experience of an event, and ponder its significance in life. Robert Frost eg.
The Concrete Poem
Concrete means actual form
These poems look like the subject.

Tall Green tree
Green, green, green ,
green, green, green, green
beautiful green green green
green, green, green, green
green, green green, green
So tall, tall, tall, tall
up, up
it grows
I wish was up there
Do you want to find your own poems?
Go to poemhunter.com
Search Youtube for Poetry Out Loud
Many people think . . .
This poetic form is still popular
Let's go there now . . .
Ancient Japanese form
1600s or 17th Century
Buddhism donated a simple directness and instantaneous perception- meditations
. . . that may lie hidden to them?
How do you feel here?
Most people could not read or write,
but they still wanted to SHARE and RECORD their stories and their folklore!
ENTER the ballad, dun, dun, dun,da.
The poet is exploring the physical nature of their subject in their arrangement of the words.
What can you show others. . .

The Elizabethans loved clever use of form and inventive language.
Think Pair Share
Now, What makes a song easy to recall? think pair share time.
What is poetry?
Well, what is a bird?

Are all birds the same?
What is Poetry?
What is a bird?

Are all birds the same?

Let's visit some different forms of poetry.
Secret: We are going to study the special tools of poetry and learn the secrets of this text type.
in the sword's blade
soft summer clouds
autumn comes
rust deepens
on the unused tracks
In The Park

She sits in the park. Her clothes are out of date.
Two children whine and bicker, tug her skirt.
A third draws aimless patterns in the dirt
Someone she loved once passed by – too late

to feign indifference to that casual nod.
“How nice” et cetera. “Time holds great surprises.”
From his neat head unquestionably rises
a small balloon…”but for the grace of God…”

They stand a while in flickering light, rehearsing
the children’s names and birthdays. “It’s so sweet
to hear their chatter, watch them grow and thrive, ”
she says to his departing smile. Then, nursing
the youngest child, sits staring at her feet.
To the wind she says, “They have eaten me alive.”
The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I marked the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference
a song in the front yard

I’ve stayed in the front yard all my life.
I want a peek at the back
Where it’s rough and untended and hungry weed grows.
A girl gets sick of a rose.

I want to go in the back yard now
And maybe down the alley,
To where the charity children play.
I want a good time today.

They do some wonderful things.
They have some wonderful fun.
My mother sneers, but I say it’s fine
How they don’t have to go in at quarter to nine.
My mother, she tells me that Johnnie Mae
Will grow up to be a bad woman.
That George’ll be taken to Jail soon or late
(On account of last winter he sold our back gate).

But I say it’s fine. Honest, I do.
And I’d like to be a bad woman, too,
And wear the brave stockings of night-black lace
And strut down the streets with paint on my face.

Gwendolyn Brooks
their laughter
the woods filled with white trillium
and sunshine
Waltzing Matilda

OH! there once was a swagman camped in the Billabong,
Under the shade of a Coolabah tree;
And he sang as he looked at his old billy boiling,
“Who’ll come a-waltzing Matilda with me.”

Who’ll come a-waltzing Matilda, my darling,
Who’ll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?
Waltzing Matilda and leading a water-bag—
Who’ll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?
Down came a jumbuck to drink at the water-hole,
Up jumped the swagman and grabbed him in glee;
And he sang as he put him away in his tucker-bag,
“You’ll come a-waltzing Matilda with me!”

Down came the Squatter a-riding his thorough-bred;
Down came Policemen—one, two, and three.
”Whose is the jumbuck you’ve got in the tucker-bag?
You’ll come a-waltzing Matilda with me.”

But the swagman, he up and he jumped in the water-hole,
Drowning himself by the Coolabah tree;
And his ghost may be heard as it sings in the Billabong,
“Who’ll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?”

Andrew Barton ‘Banjo’ Paterson

Let's visit some DIFFERENT forms of poetry now. . .
What are some differences???
Quick Fact:
Hundreds of years ago, poems were all songs. What does this suggest about how we should read them???
Some poets follow the set syllables for haiku
But this is not a rule.
Now, use your SENSES and mind map the associations.
stacking firewood
of the old forest
winter morning stillness
chopping wood
between the echoes
Framing the space
where she once was -
my mother's ring
If you see a sunset and try to describe it to someone in normal words, all you can say is, it was so beautiful! But if you are a poet, you can give it to someone to feel for themselves. Like you make a little seed of what you saw, they swallow it and it blooms again in their mind.

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? A
Thou art more lovely and more temperate: B
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, A
And summer's lease hath all too short a date: B

Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimmed,
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature's changing course untrimmed:

But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st,
Nor shall death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st,

So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
Sonnet 18
The Elegy

Traditionally written in response to the death of someone
Some Western poets have abandoned the seasonal reference, in an attempt to broaden themes.
Lyric Poems
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