Irfan

Final comments on poetry: Poetry has many names and genres, Before this unit I thought poetry was just shakespeare. I'm not saying its bad but I like more modern poetry like rap. Also before this unit the meaning of a poem was always the first thing after reading one; I never thought about just enjoying the poem.

04/01/11 I don't love poetry but I don't hate it either. I like reading poems with rhymes because they flow. I guess it depends on what type on poetry it is. I like haikus because they are short and meaningful.

06/01/11 Same as above.

10/01/11 Limbo by Edward Kamau Brathaite At first I thought it was meaningless and that some of it didn't make sense. The word slavery really stood out and gave me a idea of what the poem is about. The poem talks about slavery and their journey.

10/01/11 I still feel the same way about poetry and I am finding it hard to find poems that I like. Most poems have a very deep meaning that I don't get at first.

What is poetry? Poetry is like an unopened gift When you open it It's something you don't expect But from the start is you did you'll never know until you open that gift. by Irfan

=The football match=

Cheer, clap, pung, Crack, scream, shout, Whistle, boo, bzzzzzz, Why bother attended such a ear deafening sport. by Irfan

My reflection on poerty: After this unit my feelings for poetry has changed massively; it is now I realize that poetry isn't just something you study in school but It can be enjoyed in our everyday life. At the beginning of the unit the meaning of a poem was always a priority but i never thought i was just to be enjoyed. My previous thoughts was that i wasn't to keen on poetry but I didn't know much forms of poetry for example ballad and rap which I like.

Haikus: A form of Japanese poetry that has seventeen syllables, in three lines of five, seven, and five.

05/01/11 //Travelling, sick// //My dreams roam// //On a withered moor//

Basho This was Matsuo Basho's last poem before his death. He died there of a stomach illness, after writing his last haiku. He complained in one letter that this left him "no peace of mind".

05/01/11 Policeman Haiku 'ello 'ello 'e llo 'ello 'ello 'ello What' ave we' ere then?

Roger Stevens I like the constant repeating of 'ello because it makes it humorous. I think the poem is about a constable asking whats going on. The poem makes me wonder what is going on.

Ballads: A ballad is a poem or song narrating a story.

06/01/11


 * || **The Highwayman** ||  ||

|| The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas, The road was a ribbon of moonlight looping the purple moor, And the highwayman came riding-- Riding--riding-- The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn door.
 * ||  || The wind was a torrent of darkness upon the gusty trees,

He'd a French cocked hat on his forehead, and a bunch of lace at his chin; He'd a coat of the claret velvet, and breeches of fine doe-skin. They fitted with never a wrinkle; his boots were up to his thigh! And he rode with a jeweled twinkle-- His rapier hilt a-twinkle-- His pistol butts a-twinkle, under the jeweled sky.

Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark inn-yard, He tapped with his whip on the shutters, but all was locked and barred, He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there But the landlord's black-eyed daughter-- Bess, the landlord's daughter-- Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.

Dark in the dark old inn-yard a stable-wicket creaked Where Tim, the ostler listened--his face was white and peaked-- His eyes were hollows of madness, his hair like mouldy hay, But he loved the landlord's daughter-- The landlord's black-eyed daughter; Dumb as a dog he listened, and he heard the robber say:

"One kiss, my bonny sweetheart; I'm after a prize tonight, But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light.  Yet if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day,  Then look for me by moonlight,  Watch for me by moonlight,  I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way."

He stood upright in the stirrups; he scarce could reach her hand, But she loosened her hair in the casement! His face burnt like a brand As the sweet black waves of perfume came tumbling o'er his breast, Then he kissed its waves in the moonlight (O sweet black waves in the moonlight!), And he tugged at his reins in the moonlight, and galloped away to the west.

He did not come in the dawning; he did not come at noon. And out of the tawny sunset, before the rise of the moon, When the road was a gypsy's ribbon over the purple moor, The redcoat troops came marching-- Marching--marching-- King George's men came marching, up to the old inn-door.

They said no word to the landlord; they drank his ale instead, But they gagged his daughter and bound her to the foot of her narrow bed. Two of them knelt at her casement, with muskets by their side; There was Death at every window, And Hell at one dark window, For Bess could see, through her casement, the road that he would ride.

They had bound her up at attention, with many a sniggering jest! They had tied a rifle beside her, with the barrel beneath her breast! "Now keep good watch!" and they kissed her. She heard the dead man say, "Look for me by moonlight, Watch for me by moonlight,  I'll come to thee by moonlight, though Hell should bar the way."

She twisted her hands behind her, but all the knots held good! She writhed her hands till her fingers were wet with sweat or blood! They stretched and strained in the darkness, and the hours crawled by like years, Till, on the stroke of midnight, Cold on the stroke of midnight, The tip of one finger touched it! The trigger at least was hers!

The tip of one finger touched it, she strove no more for the rest; Up, she stood up at attention, with the barrel beneath her breast. She would not risk their hearing, she would not strive again, For the road lay bare in the moonlight, Blank and bare in the moonlight, And the blood in her veins, in the moonlight, throbbed to her love's refrain.

Tlot tlot, tlot tlot! Had they heard it? The horse-hooves, ringing clear; Tlot tlot, tlot tlot, in the distance! Were they deaf that they did not hear? Down the ribbon of moonlight, over the brow of the hill, The highwayman came riding-- Riding--riding-- The redcoats looked to their priming! She stood up straight and still.

Tlot tlot, in the frosty silence! Tlot tlot, in the echoing night! Nearer he came and nearer! Her face was like a light! Her eyes grew wide for a moment, she drew one last deep breath, Then her finger moved in the moonlight-- Her musket shattered the moonlight-- Shattered her breast in the moonlight and warned him--with her death.

He turned, he spurred to the West; he did not know who stood Bowed, with her head o'er the casement, drenched in her own red blood! Not till the dawn did he hear it, and his face grew grey to hear How Bess, the landlord's daughter, The landlord's black-eyed daughter, Had watched for her love in the moonlight, and died in the darkness there.

Back, he spurred like a madman, shrieking a curse to the sky, With the white road smoking behind him and his rapier brandished high! Blood-red were his spurs in the golden noon, wine-red was his velvet coat When they shot him down in the highway, Down like a dog in the highway, And he lay in his blood in the highway, with the bunch of lace at his throat.

//And still on a winter's night, they say, when the wind is in the trees,// //When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,// //When the road is a gypsy's ribbon looping the purple moor,// //The highwayman comes riding--// //Riding--riding--// //The highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn-door.//

//Over the cobbles he clatters and clangs in the dark inn-yard,// //He taps with his whip on the shutters, but all is locked and barred,// //He whistles a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there// //But the landlord's black-eyed daughter--// //Bess, the landlord's daughter--// //Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.//

Alfred Noyes ||  ||

In my old school my teacher read this poem out to the class and it has fascinated me ever since. I like this poem because tells a story (which is easy to follow) and I also like the description and the onomatopoeias used in this poem.

Rap: A type of performance poetry based on strong rhythm, rapid pace and repetition.

06/01/11 Don't let me fall: Well it was just a dream Just a moment ago I was up so high, Lookin down at the sky Don't let me fall I was shooting for stars, On a saturday night They say what goes up, Must come down But dont let me fall Don't let me fall Don't let me fall They say what does up, Must come down But dont let me fall Don't let me fall

Cause im gliding up there oh so very high That if the, clouds were to drop me then I'd, Fall out the sky I don't really, know why I'm here I guess I'm, just here for the ride I swear it, feels like I'm dreaming it's vividly defined yeah So call me whatever you want Tie me to whatever you like But lets get one thing straight You know my name so I run this town when I'm on this mic yeah So here I go B.O.B, Bobby Ray, I don't know, need I know But I know, That I float, Rack em up knock em down, Dominos Then I go, Where My Story goes, I know I'm done being down here before Product My East-Acator home, Cause I was in the cold tryna keep my toes unfroze Now I'm in your house, Now I'm in your stove, Now I'm everywhere that your iPod go everything I seen, Was a dream, Just a moment ago

Well it was just a dream Just a moment ago I was up so high, Lookin down at the sky Don't let me fall I was shooting for stars, On a saturday night They say what goes up, Must come down But don't let me fall Don't let me fall Don't let me fall They say what does up, Must come down But don't let me fall Don't let me fall

Yeah well I'm from somewhere lower than where that pavement is Cause there aint no parachute that they can make for this Cause I put my pain, My heart, My soul, My faith in this Does anyone feel like how I would feel then you can relate to this Just blaze of this, Maybe roll one up then take a hit Toast to the good life then take a sip Vaca everyday yeah take a trip Its easy to see I was made for this From the womb all the way to grave I spit Just to show all niggas what greatness is Yeah, I'm talking very Lucy Like making movies, To picture my life boy you need a higher resolution I used to, Cut class in the day then runaway at night But now im ruler of the upper class and I don't even write

Well it was just a dream Just a moment ago I was up so high, Lookin down at the sky Don't let me fall I was shooting for stars, On a saturday night They say what goes up, Must come down But don't let me fall Don't let me fall Don't let me fall They say what does up, Must come down But don't let me fall Don't let me fall B.O.B I think the artist is saying how fast he became famous. He's telling everyone "don't let me fall" because not many artist stay on the top of the music charts and he's remaindering people not to let him go...

06/01/11 Everybody Rap Can you do a rap? Can you do a rap? Can you make a rhyme? Can you make a rhyme? Can you link up words, Can you link up words, To make me blow my mind? To help me blow my mind? Poetry is the thing that we can do To show that there’s no difference Between me and you. Black and white is all the same And those who say different are mad insane. Do you agree? Do you agree? If you agree, Say yowl to me.

S U A NDI

Humorous: funny; comical; amusing.

Where Do All The Teachers Go Where do all the teachers go When it’s four o’clock? Do they live in houses And do they wash their socks? Do they wear pyjamas And do they watch TV? And do they pick their noses The same as you and me? Do they live with other people? Have they mums and dads? And were they ever children? And were they ever bad? Did they ever, never spell right? Did they ever make mistakes? Were they punished in the corner If they pinched the chocolate flakes? Did they ever lose their hymn books? Did they ever leave their greens? Did they scribble on the desk tops? Did they wear old dirty jeans? I’ll follow one back home today I’ll find out what they do Then I’ll put it in a poem That they can read to you.

Peter Dixon

An interesting fact about one of my relatives = My great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great grandad is very old.

Ian McMillan This poet obviously has a firm grasp of the truth :)

Cinquain: Cinquain is the general term applied to poetic forms using a 5-line pattern


 * || ** The Days of School ** ||

Crazy, boring Work! Work! Work! Too much work! The last days are always the best All done.
 * ||  || School Days

Ivana Tinkle ||

I like this poem because it's very Meaningful, And its something I experienced. I like the whole poem because it quite humorous. I like cinquains because they are not too long and they and easy to understand.

Caterpillar Relentless, Ravenous Constructing, Evolving, Emerging Wondrous gift of nature Butterfly

Dawn Slanker

Calligram: A calligram is a poem where the formation or font of the letters used represents an aspect of the poem. e.g. thin, fat high.

10/01/11  ** Dave Clader Wave ** code winds wail while wandering wide wallowing watery wastes, whisk worried wrinkles    wound with whipping wings         which whittle wedges, whirl, whorl, wrestle wantonly; which worst will wake wild weltering wrath wearing wrenched wrack, whose whomping writhing wallop whacks whales, whams wee walruses, wrecks warships with wuthering weight, whops worn wharves whose whole works wobble; wave walls wheeling, whooshing, whanging, whelming, wrap weeping white webs which wither when woven, wash weary away code

**dave calder** ** pyramid ** code P            EAK PLACE PROUDLY PROVIDING PRESTIGIOUS PLUSH PRIVATE PILED PENTHOUSE PERFECTLY PLANNED PANORAMIC POSITION PART PAYMENT POSSIBLE PAST PHAROAHS PREFERRED code

Limericks: a humorous verse of three long and two short lines.

Family Problems I have a strange Auntie called Jean. She's quite tall and thin as a bean. On bright sunny days, When she's standing sideways, Aunt Jean cannot even be seen.

John Kitching

A bald-headed man from Dundee Lost his wig in a wind, in a tree; When he looked up and spied it, A hen was inside it, And it laid him an egg for his tea.

Jack Ousbey

free verse: poetry that does not rhyme or have a regular meter.

Alone By Kaitlynn George  Alone  By myself  Not  Anything else  This is who I am  Alone  No one to talk with  To talk too  No one will  I hate being alone  This will be no more  A noose will be tied to a branch  It's going to put me out of misery <span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS',cursive; font-size: 80%;"> No one will listen to me <span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS',cursive; font-size: 80%;"> So whats the point of being alive? <span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS',cursive; font-size: 80%;"> There is none <span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS',cursive; font-size: 80%;"> So let me do what I feel I need to do <span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS',cursive; font-size: 80%;"> Don't in my way <span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS',cursive; font-size: 80%;"> Cause if you do <span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS',cursive; font-size: 80%;"> You'll leave me <span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS',cursive; font-size: 80%;"> And you won't talk to me when <span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS',cursive; font-size: 80%;"> I need you the most <span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS',cursive; font-size: 80%;"> Alone <span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS',cursive; font-size: 80%;"> That is what I am

I chose this poem because it spooked me. The poem is about someone that is lonely and feels that no one understand him/her. The part that spooked me the most was where the character said he/she wanted to hang himself/herself. Overall the poem spooks me and i wonder what the character experirenced in the past that made him/her feel this way.

by Walt Whitman || whole of the rest of the earth, I dream'd that was the new city of Friends, Nothing was greater there than the quality of robust love, it led the rest, It was seen every hour in the actions of the men of that city, And in all their looks and words. ||
 * I Dream'd in a Dream
 * I DREAM'D in a dream I saw a city invincible to the attacks of the

<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman',Times,arial; font-size: 19px; line-height: normal;">No one knows the real meaning behind the poem because the poet is gone... I think the poem is about him dreaming what it would be like to have a city that is in peace and have friends everywhere. Maybe he just wanted peace.

Sonnet: a poem of fourteen lines using any of a number of formal rhyme schemes,

v

Spring-time has come and the Oak has acorn; Wake up; Wake up, for the sweet songs of Birds; They twitter and chatter, flying in hordes.
 * || **Sonnet-A New Year's Sonnet** ||  ||   ||
 * ||  || Wake up; Wake up, for a New Year is born!

Wake up; Wake up, for the meadow is green; The landscape is so bright, lively, serene; Wake up; Wake up, for the tall grass in dance, To the tune of the Wind, marching perchance.

Wake up; Wake up, for the gorgeous flowers, Have blossom'd after the Spring-time showers; Wake up; Wake up, for the Sun has come out; ’Tis warm day indeed for running about. Wake up; Wake up, for the weather is fine; ’Tis time you made peace with neighbours with wine

Dr John Celes

I chose this poem because... well its a new year. I like the description of the arrival of spring. The poem has vivid atmosphere which I like. ||

<span style="border-collapse: separate; font-family: Verdana,Geneva,Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; line-height: normal;">The sonnet form is old and full of dust

And yet I want to learn to write one well. To learn new forms and grow is quite a must, But I will learn it quickly, I can tell.

And so I sit, today, with pen in hand, Composing three new quatrains with a rhyme. The rhythm flows like wind at my command. The A-B-A-B form consumes my time.

But I’m not done until there’s fourteen lines. One ending couplet, after three quatrains. I’ve tried to write this new form several times. The effort’s huge; I have to rack my brain.

But I persist, my fourteen lines now done. I wrote my poem; my sonnet work is won.

//by Denise Rodgers//

//I like How the poet talks about writing this sonnet. I chose this poem because i find it interesting on how the poet is talking about how he wrote the poem.//

Riddles: <span style="border-collapse: separate; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: small; line-height: normal;">A riddle is a statement or question or phrase having a double or veiled meaning, put forth as a puzzle to be solved.

Voiceless it cries, Wingless flutters, Toothless bites, Mouthless mutters. -J.R.R. Tolkien

Cherry Flavored Candy

It looks like a bomb It had disturbing melty texture sugary, rubbery RUN! IT'S GONNA BLOW! the cherry flavored sensation that is.

Irfan

This poem came to me when we were doing a poetry exercised in class, using senses. I didn’t incorporate much the senses. The poem in many ways was like the other one it just came to me. The flavor really did explode in my mouth but it tasted like medicine. The candy really did look like a bomb.

<span style="font-family: 'Apple Casual'; font-size: 17px; line-height: 0px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden;">﻿media type="file" key="Cherrycandy.mov" width="300" height="300"

Angry Teacher

There I was sitting there governed by the laws of physics awaiting a shout from an angry teacher... Yes Mr. Waddington!

Irfan

The poem was based on a teacher in my old school his name was Mr. Waddington and whenever we did something wrong he would tell us off and make us say “Yes Mr. Waddington”. But he was a good teacher that believed in extreme discipline.

media type="file" key="Audio Recording.mov" width="300" height="300"

Expire

Like all things in life We must expire Just like milk cartons We must expire Just like eggs We must expire Just like Mc Donald’s We must expire Life We must expire

Irfan

I thought of this poem when Alex was reading a thesaurus. I really just thought of it in a minute. Alex was looking for another word for die. The poem I think is funny on the surface but has a deeper meaning to it.