POETRY

What is poetry?

• The use of sound, structure, and figurative language to communicate a message or emotion.

SOUND

• What is sound?– Anything you can hear

• words• music• dogs barking• a sneeze• the buzzing of a bee• thunder• your pulse• rustling leaves• …you get the picture!

SOUND

• Why do poets use sound?– To be cool– To evoke emotions– To make language seem more like music– To be more creative and imaginative with language

SOUND DEVICES

• A sound device is the name for one of the many different ways poets can use the sound of words to enhance a poem.

SOUND DEVICE

• alliteration– the repetition of consonant sounds at the beginning

of nearby words

SOUND DEVICE

• assonance– the repetition of vowel sounds at the beginning of

nearby words

SOUND DEVICE

• onomatopoeia– when a word sounds like what it is– ex. buzz, whisper, crackle, pop

SOUND DEVICE

• euphony– pleasant-sounding words and phrases

SOUND DEVICE

• cacophony– unpleasant sounds, words or phrases

SOUND DEVICE

• homophone– a word that sounds the same as another word

SOUND DEVICE

• repetition– any word, phrase, or line in a poem that is repeated

more than once

SOUND DEVICE

• parallelism– a grammatical or syntactical structure that is

repeated in items in a list– ex. I enjoy cooking, swimming, and traveling.

(all end in -ing)– ex. Over the river, through the woods, to

grandmother’s house we go.(all begin with a preposition)

SOUND DEVICE

• anaphora– when a series of lines or phrases begin with the

same word or words

SOUND DEVICE

• rhyme– two or more words that end with same sound– eg. click/brick, scary/fairy

SOUND DEVICE

• internal rhyme– when words inside of the same line rhyme

SOUND DEVICE

• end rhyme– when words at the end of lines rhyme

SOUND DEVICE

• rhythm – the beat of a poem– (if you can tap your foot to it, it has rhythm)

SOUND DEVICE

• tone– the modulation of the voice to express a particular

feeling

STRUCTURE

• What is structure?– How the poem looks on the page

• often involves the manipulation of letters, words, lines, stanzas, etc.

• “fixed form” poems follow certain rules

STRUCTURE

• Why do poets use structure?– Personal preference– To be creative – To fit the purpose or audience – To add layers of meaning; for example, using a rigid

or fixed form might reflect the author’s feelings about his topic in some way

STRUCTURE

• syllable– one beat– ex. cat = 1 syll.

tiger = 2 syll. chimpanzee = 3 syll.

STRUCTURE

• line– ???

• stanza– a group of lines

• couplet = 2 lines• tercet = 3 lines• quatrain = 4 lines• cinquain = 5 lines• sestet = 6 lines

STRUCTURE

• refrain– a line that is repeated throughout a poem

STRUCTURE

• rhyme scheme– a pattern of words that rhyme at the ends of lines– letters are used to map out the pattern

STRUCTURE

• end stop– when a sentence ends at the end of a line

• enjambment– when a sentence continues onto the next line without

any punctuation at the end of the line

STRUCTURE

• typography– the manipulation of letters for style or meaning; for

example, choosing to capitalize or not capitalize certain words relates to typography

STRUCTURE

• form– a specific type of poem that has certain rules about

line length, number of stanzas, etc.

STRUCTURE

• acrostic – a poem built around a word spelled vertically

STRUCTURE

• blank verse– a poem with ten syllables on each line but no rhyme

scheme (this is the form that Shakespeare used in all his plays; the term appears on CDA#3, but isn’t really used by many American poets)

STRUCTURE

• concrete– a poem that makes a picture with words

STRUCTURE

• haiku – Japanese poem with three lines and 5-7-5 syllable

pattern

STRUCTURE

• limerick– a five-lined poem with AABBA rhyme scheme and

set rhythm

STRUCTURE

• sonnet– a 14-lined poem divided into 3 quatrains plus 1

couplet and usually with an ABAB CDCD EFEF GG rhyme scheme

STRUCTURE

• villanelle– a 19-line poem with 5 tercets plus 1 quatrain and 2

refrain lines repeated at the end of various stanzas

STRUCTURE

• sestina– a 39-line poem with 6 sestets plus 1 tercet in which

the words at the end of each line in the first stanza are repeated at the end of lines in subsequent stanzas

STRUCTURE

• free verse– a poem that does not have a fixed form

FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE

• What is figurative language?– a word or phrase that has multiple layers of meaning

FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE

• Why do poets use figurative language?– To add layers of meaning to a text– To demonstrate their craft and skill– To compare one thing to another

FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE

• allusion– a reference to something famous

FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE

• hyperbole– an extreme exaggeration

FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE

• imagery– the use of words that evoke the five senses

FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE

• metaphor– a comparison between two things without using like

or as• extended metaphor

– a metaphor that continues throughout the poem rather than just once

FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE

• oxymoron– a pair of opposite words

FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE

• personification– when nonhuman things do human things

FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE

• simile– a comparison between two things using like or as

FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE

• symbolism– the use of objects to represent ideas

FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE

• synesthesia– the confusion or combination of the senses– ex. The cookies look delicious.

(combines sight & taste)

FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE

Ok, now prove you get the terms….

The Negro Speaks of RiversBY LANGSTON HUGHES

I’ve known rivers:I’ve known rivers ancient as the world and older than the flow of human blood in human veins.

My soul has grown deep like the rivers.

I bathed in the Euphrates when dawns were young.I built my hut near the Congo and it lulled me to sleep.I looked upon the Nile and raised the pyramids above it.I heard the singing of the Mississippi when Abe Lincoln went down to New Orleans, and I’ve seen its muddy bosom turn all golden in the sunset.

I’ve known rivers:Ancient, dusky rivers.

My soul has grown deep like the rivers.

Refugee in America by Langston Hughes

There are words like FreedomSweet and wonderful to say. On my heart-strings freedom sings All day everyday.

There are words like LibertyThat almost make me cry. If you had known what I knew You would know why.

Hopeby Emily Dickinson

Hope is the thing with feathers

That perches in the soul, And sings the tune--without the words,

And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard; And sore must be the storm

That could abash the little bird That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land, And on the strangest sea; Yet, never, in extremity,

It asked a crumb of m

Safe in their Alabaster Chambers - by Emily Dickinson

Safe in their Alabaster Chambers -Untouched by Morning - and untouched by noon -Sleep the meek members of the Resurrection, Rafter of Satin and Roof of Stone -

Grand go the Years, In the Crescent above them -Worlds scoop their Arcs - and Firmaments - row -Diadems - drop -And Doges surrender -Soundless as Dots, On a Disk of Snow.

We Real Coolby Nikki Giovanni

The Pool Players. Seven at the Golden Shovel.

We real cool. WeLeft school. We

Lurk late. WeStrike straight. We

Sing sin. WeThin gin. We

Jazz June. WeDie soon.

A Little Hoarseby Shel Silverstein

My voice was raspy, rough and cracked.I said, “I am a little hoarse.”

They stuck a saddle on my backAnd jumped on me– – and now, of course,

They trot me and they gallop me,They prance me up and down the town

Yellin’, “Giddy up, little hoarse.”(Some things don’t mean the way they sound.)

Elizabethby Edgar Allen Poe

Elizabeth it is in vain you say"Love not" — thou sayest it in so sweet a way:In vain those words from thee or L.E.L.Zantippe's talents had enforced so well:Ah! if that language from thy heart arise,Breath it less gently forth — and veil thine eyes.Endymion, recollect, when Luna triedTo cure his love — was cured of all beside —His follie — pride — and passion — for he died.

Untitledby Elizabeth Bishop

September rain falls on the house.In the failing light, the old grandmothersits in the kitchen with the childbeside the Little Marvel Stove,reading the jokes from the almanac,laughing and talking to hide her tears.

She thinks that her equinoctial tearsand the rain that beats on the roof of the house were both foretold by the almanac,but only known to a grandmother.The iron kettle sings on the stove.She cuts some bread and says to the child,

It's time for tea now; but the childis watching the teakettle's small hard tearsdance like mad on the hot black stove,the way the rain must dance on the house.Tidying up, the old grandmotherhangs up the clever almanac

on its string. Birdlike, the almanachovers half open above the child,hovers above the old grandmotherand her teacup full of dark brown tears.She shivers and says she thinks the housefeels chilly, and puts more wood in the stove.

It was to be, says the Marvel Stove.I know what I know, says the almanac.With crayons the child draws a rigid houseand a winding pathway. Then the childputs in a man with buttons like tearsand shows it proudly to the grandmother.

But secretly, while the grandmotherbusies herself about the stove,the little moons fall down like tearsfrom between the pages of the almanacinto the flower bed the childhas carefully placed in the front of the house.

Time to plant tears, says the almanac.The grandmother sings to the marvelous stoveand the child draws another inscrutable house

The Wakingby Theodore Roethke

I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.I feel my fate in what I cannot fear.I learn by going where I have to go.

We think by feeling. What is there to know?I hear my being dance from ear to ear.I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.

Of those so close beside me, which are you?God bless the Ground! I shall walk softly there,And learn by going where I have to go.

Light takes the Tree; but who can tell us how?The lowly worm climbs up a winding stair;I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.

Great Nature has another thing to doTo you and me, so take the lively air,And, lovely, learn by going where to go.

This shaking keeps me steady. I should know.What falls away is always. And is near.I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.I learn by going where I have to

from “Out of the Cradle Endlessly Rocking”by Walt Whitman

Out of the cradle endlessly rocking,Out of the mocking-bird's throat, the musical shuttle,Out of the Ninth-month midnight,Over the sterile sands and the fields beyond, where the child leaving his bed wander'd alone, bareheaded, barefoot,Down from the shower'd halo,Up from the mystic play of shadows twining and twisting as if they were alive,Out from the patches of briers and blackberries, From the memories of the bird that chanted to me, From your memories sad brother, from the fitful risings and fallings I heard,From under that yellow half-moon late-risen and swollen as if with tears,From those beginning notes of yearning and love there in the mist,From the thousand responses of my heart never to cease,From the myriad thence-arous'd words,From the word stronger and more delicious than any,From such as now they start the scene revisiting,As a flock, twittering, rising, or overhead passing,Borne hither, ere all eludes me, hurriedly,A man, yet by these tears a little boy again,Throwing myself on the sand, confronting the waves,I, chanter of pains and joys, uniter of here and hereafter,Taking all hints to use them, but swiftly leaping beyond them,A reminiscence sing

The Oxymoronby Devang Gandhi

Oxymorons are 2 contradicting words, Now tell me, isn't that absurd?

An example of this is virtual reality, Is that possible or just a casual formality?

What about the living dead, Am I just being a butt head?

Am I leading this into a fine mess? Isn't this moment priceless?

Don't worry; the poem is nearly done, I'm just having a bit of serious fun.

Am I truly a big baby? Well, it's a definite maybe.

Well I'm going to give you a practice test, Tell me now, who is the second best.

I thank God that I'm an Atheist, Also thank Him that I am a cautious optimist.

Now I am all alone, In my office that's also my home.

Eating my very bland spice, Wasn't this poem awfully nice