Essential Question: Are passion and creativity necessary to become fulfilled?
"Immature poets imitate; mature poets steal; bad poets deface what they take, and good poets make it into something better, or at least something different. The good poet welds his theft into a whole of feeling which is unique, utterly different from that from which it was torn." - T. S. Eliot
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"Eleven Ways of Looking at Paper" by James Morrill (inspired by "13 Ways of Looking at a Blackbird" by Wallace Stevens)
1. Among the desks,
the notebooks and pen,
the white lined paper held authority.
2. The dishes must be put away,
the room cleaned.
The paper lay untouched,
the assignment stalled.
3. The paper staggered in the midst of chaos.
It fell with Macbeth into the rubbish bin.
The writer surrendered.
4. A creative mind and ink
are two.
A creative mind, ink, and paper
are one.
5. I am torn:
the new book in hand
or the old one on the shelf?
The passion of writing on paper or the crisp satisfaction of the computer?
6. The girl ripped the pink floral paper out of her diary.
Her thoughts screamed at the sound
of heart-filled entries severed.
Her foolish crush would be remembered
nevermore.
7. Exodus 34:28
Moses was upon the mountain with the Lord
for forty days and forty nights.
In all that time he neither ate nor drank.
God wrote the terms of the covenant
-- the Ten Commandments --
on stone tablets.
Not paper.
8. If I were smashed into pulp,
rolled paper thin,
would all my imperfections show,
or would I have lines instead?
9. The unsubstantial thought
sank on a paper airplane
down to the coffin below.
10. She clutched the invitation
written on scented paper.
Her glass shoes winked
in the moonlight.
11. A ball of paper meets a trash can;
an aged tree much be falling.
1. Among the desks,
the notebooks and pen,
the white lined paper held authority.
2. The dishes must be put away,
the room cleaned.
The paper lay untouched,
the assignment stalled.
3. The paper staggered in the midst of chaos.
It fell with Macbeth into the rubbish bin.
The writer surrendered.
4. A creative mind and ink
are two.
A creative mind, ink, and paper
are one.
5. I am torn:
the new book in hand
or the old one on the shelf?
The passion of writing on paper or the crisp satisfaction of the computer?
6. The girl ripped the pink floral paper out of her diary.
Her thoughts screamed at the sound
of heart-filled entries severed.
Her foolish crush would be remembered
nevermore.
7. Exodus 34:28
Moses was upon the mountain with the Lord
for forty days and forty nights.
In all that time he neither ate nor drank.
God wrote the terms of the covenant
-- the Ten Commandments --
on stone tablets.
Not paper.
8. If I were smashed into pulp,
rolled paper thin,
would all my imperfections show,
or would I have lines instead?
9. The unsubstantial thought
sank on a paper airplane
down to the coffin below.
10. She clutched the invitation
written on scented paper.
Her glass shoes winked
in the moonlight.
11. A ball of paper meets a trash can;
an aged tree much be falling.
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The Road Not Taken
by Robert Frost 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 kept 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. |
Annabel Lee
By Edgar Allen Poe It 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 wingèd 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 kinsmen 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 her sepulchre there by the sea-- In her tomb by the sounding sea. |
To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time
by Robert Herrick Gather ye rose-buds while ye may, Old Time is still a-flying; And this same flower that smiles today Tomorrow will be dying. The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun, The higher he’s a-getting, The sooner will his race be run, And nearer he’s to setting. That age is best which is the first, When youth and blood are warmer; But being spent, the worse, and worst Times still succeed the former. Then be not coy, but use your time, And while ye may, go marry; For having lost but once your prime, You may forever tarry. |
O Captain! My Captain!
By Walt Whitman O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done, The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won, The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting, While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring; But O heart! heart! heart! O the bleeding drops of red, Where on the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead. O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells; Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills, For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding, For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning; Here Captain! dear father! This arm beneath your head! It is some dream that on the deck, You’ve fallen cold and dead. My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still, My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will, The ship is anchor’d safe and sound, its voyage closed and done, From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won; Exult O shores, and ring O bells! But I with mournful tread, Walk the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead. |
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Jabberwocky
by Lewis Carroll ’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves Did gyre and gimble in the wabe: All mimsy were the borogoves, And the mome raths outgrabe. “Beware the Jabberwock, my son! The jaws that bite, the claws that catch! Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun The frumious Bandersnatch!” He took his vorpal sword in hand; Long time the manxome foe he sought-- So rested he by the Tumtum tree And stood awhile in thought. And, as in uffish thought he stood, The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame, Came whiffling through the tulgey wood, And burbled as it came! One, two! One, two! And through and through The vorpal blade went snicker-snack! He left it dead, and with its head He went galumphing back. “And hast thou slain the Jabberwock? Come to my arms, my beamish boy! O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!” He chortled in his joy. ’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves Did gyre and gimble in the wabe: All mimsy were the borogoves, And the mome raths outgrabe. |
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Meter and Rhythm
"She Walks in Beauty" by Lord Byron
She walks in beauty like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that’s best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes; Thus mellowed to that tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies. One shade the more, one ray the less, Had half impaired the nameless grace Which waves in every raven tress, Or softly lightens o’er her face; Where thoughts serenely sweet express, How pure, how dear their dwelling-place. And on that cheek, and o’er that brow, So soft, so calm, yet eloquent, The smiles that win, the tints that glow, But tell of days in goodness spent, A mind at peace with all below, A heart whose love is innocent! |
She Walks in Beauty - Form and Meter Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABABAB Meter: Iambic Tetrameter An "iamb" is an unstressed syllable, followed by a stressed syllable: da-DUM. "Tetrameter" means that there are four ("tetra") iambs in the line: da-DUM da-DUM da-DUM da-DUM. She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; If we bold the syllables that you'd naturally stress, you'll see what we mean: She walks in beau-ty, like the night Of cloud-less climes and star-ry skies; And look – there are four bold syllables per line: four iambs = iambic tetrameter. There you go. |
Shakespearean Sonnets
14 lines
Rhyme Scheme: ABABCDCDEFEFGG
Meter: Iambic Pentameter
Rhyme Scheme: ABABCDCDEFEFGG
Meter: Iambic Pentameter
Sonnet 130
by William Shakespeare My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun; Coral is far more red than her lips’ red; If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun; If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head. I have seen roses damasked, red and white, But no such roses see I in her cheeks; And in some perfumes is there more delight Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks. I love to hear her speak, yet well I know That music hath a far more pleasing sound; I grant I never saw a goddess go; My mistress when she walks treads on the ground. And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare As any she belied with false compare. |
Sonnet 18
by William Shakespeare Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer's lease hath all too short a date: Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines, And often is his gold complexion dimm'd; And every fair from fair sometime declines, By chance, or nature's changing course, untrimm'd; 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. |
images to inspire your narrative poems: pick one
assignments:
1. 5 ways poem (inspired by "Eleven Ways of Looking at Paper"): Choose a subject, any subject. Now view that subject from a variety of perspectives. Write a 5 stanza poem, and in each stanza, write about the subject viewed from a different perspective. Your objective is to capture a unique tone and style in each stanza.
2. Tribute Poem (inspired by "O Captain! My Captain!"): Write a poem that is at least 2 separate stanzas that pays a tribute to an important person in your life. The stanzas should be a minimum of 5 lines long (there is no maximum). The only other requirements are as follows: include repetition, alliteration, and evoke a specific and intentional mood from you audience.
3. Narrative Poem (inspired by "Annabel Lee"): Write a two stanza poem, minimum 14 lines, that tells a story. You must use figurative language, a musical device, and use precise, interesting word choice (vivid verbs, strong nouns, colorful adjectives, 5 senses).
4. Crossroads Poem (inspired by "To the Virgins..." and "Road Not Traveled"): OPTION 1 - Write a poem about a time when you felt conflicted about a decision, a metaphorical crossroads. The poem can be any length; however, you must incorporate at least one example of figurative language and one musical device. OR OPTION 2 - Write a poem about a road you are afraid to take or one that intrigues you. Use the imagery of the road as a metaphor for getting to some possible destination in your life.
5. Blackout Poem (inspired by Austin Kleon): Print out an article, use a newspaper or magazine, or make a copy of a page from a book to use as your artist medium. Watch the video below, under resources, for directions to create your blackout poem. You may choose any subject that inspires you. Once your poem is complete, share it on Instagram, Facebook, or Twitter: #newspaperblackout
2. Tribute Poem (inspired by "O Captain! My Captain!"): Write a poem that is at least 2 separate stanzas that pays a tribute to an important person in your life. The stanzas should be a minimum of 5 lines long (there is no maximum). The only other requirements are as follows: include repetition, alliteration, and evoke a specific and intentional mood from you audience.
3. Narrative Poem (inspired by "Annabel Lee"): Write a two stanza poem, minimum 14 lines, that tells a story. You must use figurative language, a musical device, and use precise, interesting word choice (vivid verbs, strong nouns, colorful adjectives, 5 senses).
4. Crossroads Poem (inspired by "To the Virgins..." and "Road Not Traveled"): OPTION 1 - Write a poem about a time when you felt conflicted about a decision, a metaphorical crossroads. The poem can be any length; however, you must incorporate at least one example of figurative language and one musical device. OR OPTION 2 - Write a poem about a road you are afraid to take or one that intrigues you. Use the imagery of the road as a metaphor for getting to some possible destination in your life.
5. Blackout Poem (inspired by Austin Kleon): Print out an article, use a newspaper or magazine, or make a copy of a page from a book to use as your artist medium. Watch the video below, under resources, for directions to create your blackout poem. You may choose any subject that inspires you. Once your poem is complete, share it on Instagram, Facebook, or Twitter: #newspaperblackout
Resources
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