Let's use our blog to "publish" some of your original poetry. You can post your favorite so far and let others experience your thoughts and feelings. What a great way for us to really get to know you! Enjoy the experience.
I will post a few of my favorite published poems here for you all to enjoy too.
Japanese Haiku by ISSA (Translated into English)
In this world A kitten
even among insects stamps on falling leaves,
some sing well, some don't. holds them to the ground.
|  |
| I ’M nobody! Who are you? | |
| Are you nobody, too? | |
| Then there ’s a pair of us—don’t tell! | |
| They ’d banish us, you know. | |
| How dreary to be somebody! | 5 |
| How public, like a frog | |
| To tell your name the livelong day | |
| To an admiring bog! Whispers of Mortality by E. E. Cummings old age sticks up Keep Off signs)& youth yanks them down(old age cries No Tres)&(pas) youth laughs (sing old age scolds Forbid den Stop Must n't Don't &)youth goes right on gr owing old Robert Frost  Nature's first green is gold, Her hardest hue to hold. Her early leaf's a flower; But only so an hour. Then leaf subsides to leaf. So Eden sank to grief, So dawn goes down to day. Nothing gold can stay.  Edgar Allan Poe Annabel LeeIt was many and many a year ago, In a kingdom by the sea, That a maiden there lived whom you may know By the name of ANNABEL LEE; And this maiden she lived with no other thought Than to love and be loved by me. I was a child and she was a child, In this kingdom by the sea; But we loved with a love that was more than love- I and my Annabel Lee; With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven Coveted her and me. And this was the reason that, long ago, In this kingdom by the sea, A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling My beautiful Annabel Lee; So that her highborn kinsman came And bore her away from me, To shut her up in a sepulchre In this kingdom by the sea. The angels, not half so happy in heaven, Went envying her and me- Yes!- that was the reason (as all men know, In this kingdom by the sea) That the wind came out of the cloud by night, Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee. But our love it was stronger by far than the love Of those who were older than we- Of many far wiser than we- And neither the angels in heaven above, Nor the demons down under the sea, Can ever dissever my soul from the soul Of the beautiful Annabel Lee. For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side Of my darling- my darling- my life and my bride, In the sepulchre there by the sea, In her tomb by the sounding sea. How to Eat a Poem by Eve Merriam Don't be polite. Bite in. Pick it up with your fingers and lick the juice that may run down your chin. It is ready and ripe now, whenecver you are. You do not need a knife or fork or spoon or plate or napkin or tablecloth. For there is no core or stem or rind or pit or seed or skin to throw away. Enjoy! |
Oh my god!!! First! Hopefully.
ReplyDeleteHere's a haiku I wrote:
Color
Vibrant images
Red, orange, and yellow hues
Decorate the page
this is my favorite poem:
Cheesecake
by Faith Trekson
When your soul is listless, wan and weary
and you know not what to do;
You need a lift, a comfort zone,
to sink and curl into...
You need something to nurture you,
To heal your tired heart;
Something soothing, something soft,
A begin a fresh new start...
And so I tried some chocolate,
no good...its way too sweet;
And then I tried a cup of tea,
But I just can't take the heat..
I read somewhere that baking,
is wholesome, good and fun,
and so I thought I'd bake a cake,
and perhaps please someone...
A chocolate cake is way too rich,
Its so done and quite a bore,
And so i ventured into cheesecakes,
rich in comfort lore...
I crushed some biscuits tenderly
and formed a buttery base,
And blended eggs and cottage cheese,
in an anticipatory haze...
And as I plucked it from the heat,
my heart all filled with glee..
Blushing golden, all aglow,
Like the sun beneath the sea...
It cut like butter, soft but firm,
(just like we should be);
Eyes closed, I sat and ate it up,
knees curled underneath me...
I nearly purred in complete bliss,
as it passed my eager lips,
as it crept into my hungry heart,
and settled gently on my hips...
I ofrgot to add that I love this poem because I love cheesecake and I think that it so funny because cheesecake does go STRAIGHT to your hips! lol
ReplyDeleteThese are two of my favorite published poems.
ReplyDeleteThe New Neighbor by Marci Ridlon
I see your hair is in a braid-
I like to wear mine that way, too.
You say you've finished second
grade.
Well, funny, I've just finished, too.
You say your sisters are a pain.
My brothers make my day a mess.
You say you like to walk in rain.
Well, I like rain some, too, I guess.
Why don't you come and visit me?
I've lots of toys and books to lend.
I think it's really plain to see
that you were meant to be my
friend.
The Little Boy and the Old Man by Shel Silverstein
Said the little boy, "Sometimes I drop my spoon."
Said the old man, "I do that too."
The little boy whispered, "I wet my pants."
"I do that too," laughed the little old man.
Said the little boy, "I often cry."
The old man nodded, "So do I."
"But worst of all," said the boy, "it seems
Grown-ups don't pay attention to me."
And he felt the warmth of a wrinkled old hand.
"I know what you mean," said the little old man.
Mrs. Prisbell, I forgot to ask something about the literary analysis. When you wrote on the directions "explanation of theme," do you want the definiton of theme itself or the explanation of our book's theme? I know that we need to explain our book's theme, but do you want the definition of theme itself as well?
ReplyDeleteThanks Jazmine and Devony. I love your poetry choices too.
ReplyDeleteDevony, you can use the actual definition of theme in your opening and the explanation of the exact theme in the body.
Mrs p
My mom always told me this poem whenever I mentioned poetry. I don't know who it is by but it goes:
ReplyDelete"I never saw a purple cow.
I never hope to see one.
But I can tell you anyhow
I'd rather see than be one."
~Emma A.
This is a cinquain I wrote.
ReplyDeleteFlowers
World's Nature
Swaying, in fields
Beautiful with radiant colors
Nature
I know you liked that one when you read it in class Mrs.P! See you tomorrow! :)
~Courtney M.
Arranging long-locked drawers and shelves
ReplyDeleteOf cabinets, shut up for years,
What a strange task we've set ourselves!
How still the lonely room appears!
How strange this mass of ancient treasures,
Mementos of past pains and pleasures;
These volumes, clasped with costly stone,
With print all faded, gilding gone;
These fans of leaves from Indian trees--
These crimson shells, from Indian seas--
These tiny portraits, set in rings--
Once, doubtless, deemed such precious things;
Keepsakes bestowed by Love on Faith,
And worn till the receiver's death,
Now stored with cameos, china, shells,
In this old closet's dusty cells.
I scarcely think, for ten long years,
A hand has touched these relics old;
And, coating each, slow-formed, appears
The growth of green and antique mould.
All in this house is mossing over;
All is unused, and dim, and damp;
Nor light, nor warmth, the rooms discover--
Bereft for years of fire and lamp.
The sun, sometimes in summer, enters
The casements, with reviving ray;
But the long rains of many winters
Moulder the very walls away.
And outside all is ivy, clinging
To chimney, lattice, gable grey;
Scarcely one little red rose springing
Through the green moss can force its way.
Unscared, the daw and starling nestle,
Where the tall turret rises high,
And winds alone come near to rustle
The thick leaves where their cradles lie,
I sometimes think, when late at even
I climb the stair reluctantly,
Some shape that should be well in heaven,
Or ill elsewhere, will pass by me.
I fear to see the very faces,
Familiar thirty years ago,
Even in the old accustomed places
Which look so cold and gloomy now,
I've come, to close the window, hither,
At twilight, when the sun was down,
And Fear my very soul would wither,
Lest something should be dimly shown,
Too much the buried form resembling,
Of her who once was mistress here;
Lest doubtful shade, or moonbeam trembling,
Might take her aspect, once so dear.
Hers was this chamber; in her time
It seemed to me a pleasant room,
For then no cloud of grief or crime
Had cursed it with a settled gloom;
I had not seen death's image laid
In shroud and sheet, on yonder bed.
Before she married, she was blest--
Blest in her youth, blest in her worth;
Her mind was calm, its sunny rest
Shone in her eyes more clear than mirth.
And when attired in rich array,
Light, lustrous hair about her brow,
She yonder sat, a kind of day
Lit up what seems so gloomy now.
These grim oak walls even then were grim;
That old carved chair was then antique;
But what around looked dusk and dim
Served as a foil to her fresh cheek;
Her neck and arms, of hue so fair,
Eyes of unclouded, smiling light;
Her soft, and curled, and floating hair,
Gems and attire, as rainbow bright.
Reclined in yonder deep recess,
Ofttimes she would, at evening, lie
Watching the sun; she seemed to bless
With happy glance the glorious sky.
She loved such scenes, and as she gazed,
Her face evinced her spirit's mood;
Beauty or grandeur ever raised
In her, a deep-felt gratitude.
But of all lovely things, she loved
A cloudless moon, on summer night,
Full oft have I impatience proved
To see how long her still delight
Would find a theme in reverie,
Out on the lawn, or where the trees
Let in the lustre fitfully,
As their boughs parted momently,
To the soft, languid, summer breeze.
Alas! that she should e'er have flung
Those pure, though lonely joys away--
Deceived by false and guileful tongue,
She gave her hand, then suffered wrong;
Oppressed, ill-used, she faded young,
And died of grief by slow decay.
Sorry It won't let me fit the whole poem but the link is
ReplyDeletehttp://www.online-literature.com/brontec/3069/
~I like this poem because I can kinda relate to it, I like to go through my old memories like pictures.
Also, I have a question. Are we going to finish the boy in the striped pajamas or are we only watching the beginning?
That's very cute Emma. I bet you always remember that poem.
ReplyDeleteGood job Courtney M. I do remember your poem.
That's a great choice Courtney W. Thanks for the link too.
I still have the movie ready to go. I just need time. I would like the class to see the whole movie, CourtW.
Mrs P
Thanks Mrs.P! See you tomorrow! :)
ReplyDelete-Courtney M.
Here is one of my poems:
ReplyDeleteDaughters are blessings.
A gift of joy and gladness.
To cherish and love.
This is a published one I like:
TOUCHING THE FUTURE
I don't wear power suits,
make speeches,
or drive a fancy sports car.
I've never talked on a car phone,
made a big sale,
or been elected to the Senate.
I don't "do lunch",
have a big imppressive office or carry a beeper.
I spend my days wiping away tears,
giving hugs,
and serving chicken nuggets.
A good day is when I go through a whole day
without a temper tantrum,
bite mark,
or a toilet training accident.
My "office" is a room full of brightly colored toys
and laughing children.
You may not think that what I do is very important
and you may even whisper behind my back
"what a waste of a good mind."
But I know better.
I make a difference
because I'm changing the world
one child at a time.
Everyday I'm getting the once in a lifetime chance
to touch the future.
I'm proud to say "I'm a child care provider"
~~By Marti Doyle~~
-Caitlyn Teta:)