raven_spring_2015_poem_in_excel_sheet.xlsx | |
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raven_questions.docx | |
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What is poetry?
A poem may appear to mean very different things to different readers, and all of these meanings may be different from what the author thought he meant. For instance, the author may have been writing some peculiar personal experience, which he saw quite unrelated to anything outside; yet for the reader, the poem may become the expression of a general situation, as well as of some private experience of his own. The reader's interpretation may differ from the author's and be equally valid-- it may even be better. There may be much more in a poem than the author was aware of. The different interpretations may all be partial formulations of one thing; the ambiguities may be due to the fact that the poem means more, not less, than ordinary speech can communicate.
-T. S. Eliot
A poem may appear to mean very different things to different readers, and all of these meanings may be different from what the author thought he meant. For instance, the author may have been writing some peculiar personal experience, which he saw quite unrelated to anything outside; yet for the reader, the poem may become the expression of a general situation, as well as of some private experience of his own. The reader's interpretation may differ from the author's and be equally valid-- it may even be better. There may be much more in a poem than the author was aware of. The different interpretations may all be partial formulations of one thing; the ambiguities may be due to the fact that the poem means more, not less, than ordinary speech can communicate.
-T. S. Eliot
What is a poet?
A poet is somebody who feels, and who expresses his feelings through words.
This may sound easy. It isn't.
A lot of people think or believe or know how they feel-- but that's thinking or believing or knowing, not feeling. And poetry is feeling-- notknowing or believing or thinking.
Almost anybody can learn to think or believe or know, but not a single human being can be taught to feel. Why? Because whenever you think or you believe or you know, you're a lot of other people; but the moment you feel, you're NOBODY-BUT-YOURSELF.
-e.e. cummings
A poet is somebody who feels, and who expresses his feelings through words.
This may sound easy. It isn't.
A lot of people think or believe or know how they feel-- but that's thinking or believing or knowing, not feeling. And poetry is feeling-- notknowing or believing or thinking.
Almost anybody can learn to think or believe or know, but not a single human being can be taught to feel. Why? Because whenever you think or you believe or you know, you're a lot of other people; but the moment you feel, you're NOBODY-BUT-YOURSELF.
-e.e. cummings
HarlemBY LANGSTON HUGHES
What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?
What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?
a_dream_deffrered_activity.pdf | |
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Much Madness is divinest Sense - (620)
BY EMILY DICKINSON
Much Madness is divinest Sense -
To a discerning Eye -
Much Sense - the starkest Madness -
’Tis the Majority
In this, as all, prevail -
Assent - and you are sane -
Demur - you’re straightway dangerous -
And handled with a Chain -
Questions for "Much Madness"
1. Sense is madness? Madness is sense? Seems like we've got some paradoxes here. Explain how they work in this poem.
2. How does the poem's willy-nilly meter affect the overall meaning?
3. What is the effect of Dickson's signature use of long dash marks and capitalized words in this poem?
a. List the capitalized words
b. Is it just random, or does is seem to have a point? How can you tell?
4. Where do you think the speaker of this poem falls on the sanity spectrum?
5. What is the relationship between sound and meaning here?
6. According to the poem, what does a person have to be considered to be truly sane? Do you agree or disagree with Dickinson here? Explain.
BY EMILY DICKINSON
Much Madness is divinest Sense -
To a discerning Eye -
Much Sense - the starkest Madness -
’Tis the Majority
In this, as all, prevail -
Assent - and you are sane -
Demur - you’re straightway dangerous -
And handled with a Chain -
Questions for "Much Madness"
1. Sense is madness? Madness is sense? Seems like we've got some paradoxes here. Explain how they work in this poem.
2. How does the poem's willy-nilly meter affect the overall meaning?
3. What is the effect of Dickson's signature use of long dash marks and capitalized words in this poem?
a. List the capitalized words
b. Is it just random, or does is seem to have a point? How can you tell?
4. Where do you think the speaker of this poem falls on the sanity spectrum?
5. What is the relationship between sound and meaning here?
6. According to the poem, what does a person have to be considered to be truly sane? Do you agree or disagree with Dickinson here? Explain.
"Fire and Ice" ~Robert Frost
Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.
Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.
fire_and_ice_questions.docx | |
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“The Seven Ages of Man” ~William Shakespeare
All the world’s a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts,
5 His acts being seven ages. At first the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse’s arms;
And then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
10 Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress’ eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
15 Even in the cannon’s mouth. And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good capon lined,
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
20 Into the lean and slippered pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side;
His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
25 And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.
All the world’s a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts,
5 His acts being seven ages. At first the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse’s arms;
And then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
10 Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress’ eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
15 Even in the cannon’s mouth. And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good capon lined,
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
20 Into the lean and slippered pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side;
His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
25 And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.
Assignment for "The Seven Ages of Man"
-Create an illustration representing each of the seven ages.
-Create an illustration representing each of the seven ages.
"I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud" ~William Wordsworth
I wandered lonely as a cloud
that floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:?
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparking waves in glee:
A poet could not be but gay,
In such jocund company;
I gazed-and gazed- but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.
I wandered lonely as a cloud
that floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:?
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparking waves in glee:
A poet could not be but gay,
In such jocund company;
I gazed-and gazed- but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.
i_wandered_lonely_as_a_cloud_questions.docx | |
File Size: | 12 kb |
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"With Age Wisdom"- Archibald MacLeish
At twenty, stooping round about,
I thought the world a miserable place,
Truth a trick, faith in doubt,
Little beauty, less grace.
Now at sixty what I see,
Although the world is worse by far,
Stops my heart in ecstasy.
God, the wonders that there are!
1. When he is young, why does he think the world is so bad?
2. Why does he change his mind as he grows older?
3. The name of the poem is "With Age Wisdom." What do you think wisdom is? How is wisdom different than knowledge? Would you rather have wisdom or knowledge?
4. What are some of the "wonders" you can think of? Explain why they are wonders.
5. Find an example of parallelism in the poem. What is its purpose and effect?
6. What is the message of this poem?
7. Write a four line poem responding to the message of this poem. Be sure to follow MacLeish's rhyme scheme.
At twenty, stooping round about,
I thought the world a miserable place,
Truth a trick, faith in doubt,
Little beauty, less grace.
Now at sixty what I see,
Although the world is worse by far,
Stops my heart in ecstasy.
God, the wonders that there are!
1. When he is young, why does he think the world is so bad?
2. Why does he change his mind as he grows older?
3. The name of the poem is "With Age Wisdom." What do you think wisdom is? How is wisdom different than knowledge? Would you rather have wisdom or knowledge?
4. What are some of the "wonders" you can think of? Explain why they are wonders.
5. Find an example of parallelism in the poem. What is its purpose and effect?
6. What is the message of this poem?
7. Write a four line poem responding to the message of this poem. Be sure to follow MacLeish's rhyme scheme.
sonnet_18_and_questions.docx | |
File Size: | 13 kb |
File Type: | docx |