Friday, April 8, 2016

Look Ma, I'm a Poet!

http://www.bucks.edu/media/bcccmedialibrary/pdf/FormsofPoetry_000.pdf


Here is a list of poetry forms. Choose one form and give us an example (different from the one provided). Then, write a poem of your own. You may choose any form, the one for which you found an example or any other on the list except acrostic. ( I assume none of you will choose an epic!) If possible, try to choose a form that no one else has done. A nice sampling will be nice!

20 comments:

  1. Cinquain

    But then
    Because they dwell
    In Ireland's beauty
    The lucky land of green and fun
    They dance

    By me


    Limerick

    There was an old man with a beard
    Who said, "it’s just how I feared!
    Two owls and a hen
    Four larks and a wren
    Have all built their nests in my beard.

    By Edward Lear

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    1. Your poem is so cute! It's very Ireland-esque. I think it's so cool how only a few words can invoke such rich sentiments within a person. It reminds me of the saying "less is more." Sometimes poems have a tendency to be a bit drawn out, and the reader loses interest (particularly if the imagery isn't very abundant). But I think a cinquain is a very interesting form of poetry, and I'm glad you wrote an example. :)

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    2. Grace, I really liked your poem. It was so simple, and yet the words you chose made it extremely vivid and emotional. I was surprised at the number of feelings it evoked, and how they developed as the poem went on. The simplicity itself tied in to your theme of wild beauty. Great job!

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  2. Blank Verse by me

    A look in the mirror confirms my despairing suspicion,
    That as I have grown older I cannot recognize my face anymore,
    The years of corruption and innocence lost,
    Has left a worn mask drawn on my face.
    Is it that we have grown old and worn,
    As the atmosphere of innocence and untouched youth has worn away.
    Leaving us with a haunting memory of the selves we used to be,
    In a time that seems so far away and is forever lost.

    Epistle
    Elizabeth Bishop, "Letter to NYC"

    In your next letter I wish you’d say
    where you are going and what you are doing;
    how are the plays, and after the plays
    what other pleasures you’re pursuing:

    taking cabs in the middle of the night,
    driving as if to save your soul
    where the road goes round and round the park
    and the meter glares like a moral owl

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    1. Your poem gives me the shivers. I like to think that as I grow older, I'm becoming a better version of myself. This made me sad and I hope it's not about you because I don't think you are corrupted! The New York poem is nice as well because it reminds me exactly of the city. I love to visit there, but could never live there! I have had a great appreciation for poems recently, and I am a fan of blank verse because they don't rhyme and it is just thoughts spilled out in a way that makes sense. I like to understand things.

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    2. Abbey I really like your poem! I also love that form. Kaitlyn Quinn used to use blank verse ALL the time and her poems were always so interesting. It's such a cool form because it doesn't require the poet to abide by too many rules. It allows them to be especially creative and express their sentiments plainly as they come. Awesome job!

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    3. This comment has been removed by the author.

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    4. P. S. I didn't realize your example was an epistle. Oops.

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    5. Abbey, this poem was beautiful. Everyone changes as they grow older, and they have to wonder whether it was for better or worse. I feel as though most people feel they become worse, not because they actually do, but because they lose their innocence. Youth is a time of joy and naivety, and it hard to recapture that lightness. Great job!

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    6. Abbey, that poem was absolutely wonderful. I'm kind of terrified to look in the mirror and not recognize myself. But I guess that comes with growing up. Man...that's scary. We're all growing up so fast...eventually...well all be at college and living our own lives. Then we'll look in the mirror, and we won't see any of what we used to be. Your poem captures that stunning realization quite wonderfully.

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  3. I did an Epistle for both.

    Epistle to My Past Insecurities
    By Me

    I thought of you today
    When my world was slow and silent.
    I had merely forgotten our acquaintance,
    The shadow that you had so often cast
    Nearly unrecognizable
    Against the glittering beams caressing my soul.

    I'm doing much better now.

    The toxic darkness
    Which your presence had inflicted upon me
    No longer courses through my veins
    Infecting my perception and paralyzing my spirit.
    I let you go.

    And so
    As I sit here
    Writing this letter to you,
    I am reminded of an inescapable truth -
    I am, you see, most grateful for you.
    I am grateful that you taunted me
    With your lies about conformity.
    I am grateful for the whispers you spoke
    As the storm poured from my eyes.
    Because you see, my dear,
    Had it not been for you,
    I would not have had incentive
    To delve into the depths of my soul
    As I searched ravenously for answers.
    I would never have encountered
    The pure delight within my soul
    When I at last discovered myself.


    Dear David
    By Matthew Burgess

    This morning I looked
    for your book online
    and almost bought it
    from the evil giant
    but balked. Instead
    I wrote a poem in bed
    about a faux-leopard
    jacket while drinking
    coffee from a Bette
    Midler mug. Marcel
    says when he catches
    himself self-censoring
    he knows to add it
    anyway. Anyway
    I scrambled eggs
    before rearranging
    my book shelves,
    extracting the ones
    I can live without.
    Those I put in a box
    for prisoners (who
    want dictionaries
    and classic fiction,
    the website says)
    and later the buyer
    in Red Hook took
    a towering stack
    for a seventeen buck
    credit. I skimmed
    the spines and there
    you were! Like new!
    On the cover in blue
    pants, a violet plaid
    shirt, surrounded by
    bright particulars!

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    1. Mary, I really like your epistle! It's hard to write in a form that you're not used to and do it effectively, by you definitely did it! I think epistles are definitely an underused poetry form and when I looked into it for my own blog, I found some really interesting examples.

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  4. Your poem is beautiful, Mary. It is so interesting and shows so much strength! I love how you used apostrophe to personify your insecurities. That is very creative and if you ever write a book of poems, i will buy it and have my kid do their poetry project on you.

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  5. Elegy by Me

    The sunlight slowly fades to dusk
    Just as you faded away from me
    Our connection is withered, a husk
    Separated but not free

    I scuff my feet and kick the dirt
    The blood red sky above my head
    Reflects the rawness of my hurt
    I wish it were physical instead

    Oh why have you gone from me
    What has pushed you away
    This is not what I wanted to be
    How I wanted you to stay

    They say time goes on and on
    Leaving lives by the wayside
    We are all so long gone
    Loved ones have died

    SONNET 116 by Shakespeare

    Let me not to the marriage of true minds
    Admit impediments. Love is not love
    Which alters when it alteration finds,
    Or bends with the remover to remove:
    O no; it is an ever-fixed mark,
    That looks on tempests, and is never shaken;
    It is the star to every wandering bark,
    Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
    Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
    Within his bending sickle's compass come;
    Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
    But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
    If this be error and upon me proved,
    I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

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    1. Ashley, I love the poem you created. The imagery of the blood red sky made me stop and picture those beautiful red skies at sunsets. Those are always my favorite nights. I love the connection of it to the last line when you say "loved ones have died." I like how it also can connect to the "rawness of my hurt" because rubbed skin appears red. Your poem was well thought out and beautiful.

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  6. Ode to Uni-Horned Horses

    Oh thou majestic beast
    Your might is quite mighty
    The sun strikes your mane
    And your horn leaves a shadow

    You fly to and fro
    With no regards for
    Time and space
    Thou are truly great

    When thou throwith upith
    It contains rainbows and sunshine
    Lovely puke
    For such a lowly time

    Whenever thou landing
    You are immediately attacked
    By 12 year old girls
    A lowly exsistence for thou

    But you are always flying above
    Watching us
    Protecting us
    Oh mighty unihorned horse

    By Me


    The deal is, odes are usually very long...so here's a link to ode to joy. I couldn't get it to fit. So...enjoy.
    http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/l/ludwig_van_beethoven/ode_to_joy.html

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    1. Gizzy, this poem was so beautiful. It is hard to imagine you came up with this in a hotel room in Hershey instead of on some tropical retreat where you were struck by the beauty and majesty of a whimsical uni-horse. I felt deeply touched by your ode to it. I hope someday I can be greatly inspired by this unicorn.

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    2. Gizzy, this is a really unique poem. I think the topic itself is interesting and something I'm sure hasn't been written about in poetry much. I also really liked the link you posted as well. I found the whole poem very captivating.

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  7. Villanelle

    Look at the stars in the dead of the night
    When hope is lost and I am not around
    For you will find me in the night's starlight

    Do not fear when you lose all your fight
    For I will find a way back your life
    Look at the stars in the dead of the night

    I know you think I'm lost, out of your sight
    I am never gone, I am always here
    For you will find me in the night's starlight

    Fight to stay alive now with all your might
    The time will come when I see you again
    Look at the stars in the dead of the night
    For you will find me in the night's starlight



    Villanelle
    Mad Girl’s Love Song
    Sylvia Plath (1932-1963)
    I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead,
    I lift my lids and all is born again.
    (I think I made you up inside my head)
    The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
    And arbitrary darkness gallops in.
    I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
    I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
    And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
    (I think I made you up inside my head).
    God topples from the sky, hell’s fires fade:
    Exit seraphim and enter Satan’s men:
    I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
    I fancied you’d return the way you said.
    But I grow old and I forget your name.
    (I think I made you up inside my head).
    I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
    At least when spring comes they roar back again.
    I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
    (I think I made you up inside my head).

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    1. Lauren, that was extremely beautious. It's really hard to imagine that you wrote that in a hotel room in Hershey and not in Potter County (best place to go star gazing in the area by the way) watching the sun set and the stars come up. Anyways, that was extremely inspiring. I hope someday to be inspired by the setting sun and rising stars. I also liked your example. Overall, very entertaining.

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