Found Poetry Assignment

What you’ll need:

your writer’s notebook

a highlighter or marker

a pen or pencil

Directions:

1. Mine through your writer’s notebook 2. Highlight your favorite/most poetic/most profound words, phrases,

and/or sentences 3. copy them onto a new page in your journal 4. play with your words: add, subtract, repeat, revise

5. Create a new poem(in your writer’s notebook with your own words—the words you found in your journal

Mentor Poetry Assignment:

Modeling Someone Else’s Style

What you’ll need:

your writer’s notebook

examples of poetry—textbook, poetry books, poems you’ve been given

a pen or pencil

Directions:

1. copy a line, phrase, word, groups of words or a few lines from a poem you like

2. use it in a poem a poem that you create

alternative:

1. read and copy a poem that you like 2. model the structure, rhythm, rhyme scheme, etc. of that poem in

your own new creation

Photo Poetry Assignment

What you’ll need:

your writer’s notebook

your phone and/or the internet for a picture

a pen or pencil

Directions:

1. find your favorite picture on your phone/ on the internet of someone or something

2. write a poem to or about that someone or something

alternative:

1. Photo prompt: choose a photo that has some personal significance to you or a picture to which you have no connection (eg a picture of a country scene from a calendar, or a picture from the paper).

2. Start by free writing and describing what you see—details, colors, action, etc.

3. Then let your mind wander—you will begin describing what you feel. 4. Let your memory and imagination take you (and your pen) elsewhere. 5. Then convert your free write into a poem. The poem should clearly show

heavy imagery and be very visual in nature.

Poem Sketch Assignment

What you’ll need:

your writer’s notebook

a list of four words

a pen or pencil

Directions:

1. Write the four words in to four or more sentences 2. Do not rhyme 3. Recombine word groups if you like 4. Change the form of the word if you need to (ex. Ride to riding)

Choose from the following word groups

Coins leaves heart sky

Dragon leaves rake smoke

Crow eternity eye sunflower

Oil wind life stars

Face pond silence dragonfly

East west sky blooms

Cane rows sunset mama

Dance girls sandals twilight

Water kiss paradise shine

Shine barefoot words green

Black white winter think

Road dust body traveler

Spirit night glisten sparks

Hope fog wet silence

Windows angels eye song

Silver moth wings yard

Restless genuine field net

Empty kissed cloud grass

Tales music fireflies moon

Notes mist melody awake

Trees migrate map butterfly

Knots colors rain river

Boys invisible season star

Breeze path trust darkness

Talents honor trust sleep

Serve waters gold pillow

Boys sleep drunk hearts

Invisible lights listen bayou

Sparks shadow sink alone

Motion resist sheets change

Fast drift date smile

Gravity love grow float

Time hurry soul fire

Dreams alone dry eye

Create Your Own Poetry Assignment

What you’ll need:

your writer’s notebook

a pen or pencil

possibly internet access

Directions:

1. review the list of topics below 2. choose two or three that interest you 3. write a poem about that topic 4. you may wish to visit poetry websites to view poems about your chosen

topics and utilize modeling or language choice based on the poems you find

Topic ideas

a Wish an Accident

Anger Anxiety

Art Aspirations

Childhood Choices

Conscience Death

Dreams

Embarrassment Environment

Excitement Family

Favorites Feelings

Friendship

Frustration Growing up

Imagination Joy

Life Memories

Nature Patience

Pets Photograph

Places

Pride Sadness

School Shyness

Silliness Sports

the Future

the Past Triumph

Vacations Wishes

love gender

magic quest

honor courage

creativity

separation jealousy

death identity

being reunion

shame

pain becoming

searching knowledge

beginnings fear

loneliness acceptance

truth learning

endings

anger heartache

forgiveness loyalty

childhood denial

innocence

joy releasing the world

objects discover

responsibility spirituality

race mystery

passages hate

earth

pride

hope

nature

coming of age

Phenomenal Woman

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies. I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size But when I start to tell them, They think I'm telling lies. I say, It's in the reach of my arms The span of my hips, The stride of my step, The curl of my lips. I'm a woman Phenomenally. Phenomenal woman, That's me. I walk into a room Just as cool as you please, And to a man, The fellows stand or Fall down on their knees. Then they swarm around me, A hive of honey bees. I say, It's the fire in my eyes, And the flash of my teeth, The swing in my waist, And the joy in my feet. I'm a woman Phenomenally. Phenomenal woman, That's me.

Men themselves have wondered What they see in me. They try so much But they can't touch My inner mystery. When I try to show them They say they still can't see. I say, It's in the arch of my back, The sun of my smile, The ride of my breasts, The grace of my style. I'm a woman Phenomenally. Phenomenal woman, That's me. Now you understand Just why my head's not bowed. I don't shout or jump about Or have to talk real loud. When you see me passing It ought to make you proud. I say, It's in the click of my heels, The bend of my hair, the palm of my hand, The need of my care, 'Cause I'm a woman Phenomenally. Phenomenal woman, That's me.

Maya Angelou

Still I Rise

You may write me down in history With your bitter, twisted lies, You may trod me in the very dirt But still, like dust, I'll rise. Does my sassiness upset you? Why are you beset with gloom? 'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells Pumping in my living room. Just like moons and like suns, With the certainty of tides, Just like hopes springing high, Still I'll rise. Did you want to see me broken? Bowed head and lowered eyes? Shoulders falling down like teardrops. Weakened by my soulful cries. Does my haughtiness offend you? Don't you take it awful hard 'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines Diggin' in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words, You may cut me with your eyes, You may kill me with your hatefulness, But still, like air, I'll rise. Does my sexiness upset you? Does it come as a surprise That I dance like I've got diamonds At the meeting of my thighs? Out of the huts of history's shame I rise Up from a past that's rooted in pain I rise I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide, Welling and swelling I bear in the tide. Leaving behind nights of terror and fear I rise Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear I rise Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave, I am the dream and the hope of the slave. I rise I rise I rise.

Maya Angelou

If You Forget Me

I want you to know one thing. You know how this is: if I look at the crystal moon, at the red branch of the slow autumn at my window, if I touch near the fire the impalpable ash or the wrinkled body of the log, everything carries me to you, as if everything that exists, aromas, light, metals, were little boats that sail toward those isles of yours that wait for me. Well, now, if little by little you stop loving me I shall stop loving you little by little. If suddenly you forget me do not look for me, for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad, the wind of banners that passes through my life, and you decide to leave me at the shore of the heart where I have roots, remember that on that day, at that hour, I shall lift my arms and my roots will set off to seek another land. But if each day, each hour, you feel that you are destined for me with implacable sweetness, if each day a flower climbs up to your lips to seek me, ah my love, ah my own, in me all that fire is repeated, in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten, my love feeds on your love, beloved, and as long as you live it will be in your arms without leaving mine.

Pablo Neruda

If

If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you; If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, But make allowance for their doubting too: If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies, Or being hated don't give way to hating, And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise; If you can dream---and not make dreams your master; If you can think---and not make thoughts your aim, If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster And treat those two impostors just the same:. If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, And stoop and build'em up with worn-out tools; If you can make one heap of all your winnings And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss, And lose, and start again at your beginnings, And never breathe a word about your loss: If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew To serve your turn long after they are gone, And so hold on when there is nothing in you Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!" If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, Or walk with Kings---nor lose the common touch, If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you, If all men count with you, but none too much: If you can fill the unforgiving minute With sixty seconds' worth of distance run, Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it, And---which is more---you'll be a Man, my son!

Rudyard Kipling

I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings

The free bird leaps on the back of the wind and floats downstream till the current ends and dips his wings in the orange sun rays and dares to claim the sky. But a bird that stalks down his narrow cage can seldom see through his bars of rage his wings are clipped and his feet are tied so he opens his throat to sing. The caged bird sings with fearful trill of the things unknown but longed for still and is tune is heard on the distant hillfor the caged bird sings of freedom The free bird thinks of another breeze an the trade winds soft through the sighing trees and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn and he names the sky his own. But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream his wings are clipped and his feet are tied so he opens his throat to sing The caged bird sings with a fearful trill of things unknown but longed for still and his tune is heard on the distant hill for the caged bird sings of freedom. --Maya Angelou

Do not stand at my grave and weep

Do not stand at my grave and weep I am not there. I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow. I am the diamond glints on snow. I am the sunlight on ripened grain. I am the gentle autumn rain. When you awaken in the morning's hush I am the swift uplifting rush Of quiet birds in circled flight. I am the soft stars that shine at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry; I am not there. I did not die.

Mary Elizabeth Frye

A Poison Tree

I was angry with my friend: I told my wrath, my wrath did end. I was angry with my foe: I told it not, my wrath did grow. And I watered it in fears, Night and morning with my tears; And I sunned it with smiles, And with soft deceitful wiles. And it grew both day and night, Till it bore an apple bright. And my foe beheld it shine. And he knew that it was mine, And into my garden stole When the night had veiled the pole; In the morning glad I see My foe outstretched beneath the tree.

William Blake

No Man Is An Island

No man is an island, Entire of itself. Each is a piece of the continent, A part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less. As well as if a promontory were. As well as if a manor of thine own Or of thine friend's were. Each man's death diminishes me, For I am involved in mankind. Therefore, send not to know For whom the bell tolls, It tolls for thee.

John Donne

We Wear the Mask

We wear the mask that grins and lies, It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes,-- This debt we pay to human guile; With torn and bleeding hearts we smile, And mouth with myriad subtleties. Why should the world be overwise, In counting all our tears and sighs? Nay, let them only see us, while We wear the mask. We smile, but, O great Christ, our cries To thee from tortured souls arise. We sing, but oh the clay is vile Beneath our feet, and long the mile; But let the world dream otherwise, We wear the mask!

Paul Laurence Dunbar

Identity of a person by Sylvia Chidi

Identity of a person Identity signifies complexity

Identity identifies with reality Identity is the bearer of all vanity

How does a person identify with identity?

You define yourself based on what? They say

You’re kind or moral based on what? Or

You’re a genius and shrewd based on what? Or

You make the perfect lover, look for no other

They say

You’re strong without a thought it may not last long Or

You’ve skills since with a record you run up high bills Or

You are shy but no one ever talks to you or says hi Or

You never give up because right now you are on top

They say You are generous or gregarious when all you are is conscious

Or You’re innovative yet not the originator of the idea conceived

What are the facts?

That makes your identity intact When change on identity has the last impact?

I Ask My Mother to Sing by Li-Young Lee

She begins, and my grandmother joins her. Mother and daughter sing like young girls. If my father were alive, he would play his accordion and sway like a boat. I've never been in Peking, or the Summer Palace, nor stood on the great Stone Boat to watch the rain begin on Kuen Ming Lake, the picnickers running away in the grass. But I love to hear it sung; how the waterlilies fill with rain until they overturn, spilling water into water, then rock back, and fill with more, Both women have begun to cry. But neither stops her song.

Don't Go Far Off by Pablo Neruda

Don't go far off, not even for a day, because -- because -- I don't know how to say it: a day is long and I will be waiting for you, as in an empty station when the trains are parked off somewhere else, asleep. Don't leave me, even for an hour, because then the little drops of anguish will all run together, the smoke that roams looking for a home will drift into me, choking my lost heart. Oh, may your silhouette never dissolve on the beach; may your eyelids never flutter into the empty distance. Don't leave me for a second, my dearest, because in that moment you'll have gone so far I'll wander mazily over all the earth, asking, Will you come back? Will you leave me here, dying?

In Time of Silver Rain by Langston Hughes

In time of silver rain The earth Puts forth new life again, Green grasses grow And flowers lift their heads, And over all the plain The wonder spreads Of life, of life, of life!

In time of silver rain The butterflies Lift silken wings To catch a rainbow cry, And trees put forth New leaves to sing In joy beneath the sky As down the roadway Passing boys and girls Go singing, too, In time of silver rain When spring And life Are new.

Imagination by Bernard Howe

Youthful innocents, imagination at its peak, thrills of excitement is what they come to seek. A stirring noise, or the rustle of some leaves, chilling mysteries is what it all perceives. Fright, goose bumps, and chills all up our spine, we're not always sure that everything is fine. Everything we heard of, seems to come so near, raising up our heart rate, from what we come to fear. Our imagination, can give us quite a thrill lack of common sense, will give us a bigger chill. Not knowing if its true or not, the stories we all read, makes our minds go wild, deep from within our head. Human nature, has a lust for the unknown, some of our biggest fears, are when were all alone. And when we can conjure, one of our big chills, we always laugh and say, we sure do love them thrills.

Love Is by Nikki Giavonni

Some people forget that love is tucking you in and kissing you "Good night" no matter how young or old you are

Some people don't remember that love is listening and laughing and asking questions no matter what your age

Few recognize that love is commitment, responsibility no fun at all unless

Love is You and me

The Reader by Richard Wilbur She is going back, these days, to the great stories That charmed her younger mind. A shaded light Shines on the nape half-shadowed by her curls, And a page turns now with a scuffing sound. Onward they come again, the orphans reaching For a first handhold in a stony world, The young provincials who at last look down On the city’s maze, and will descend into it, The serious girl, once more, who would live nobly, The sly one who aspires to marry so, The young man bent on glory, and that other Who seeks a burden. Knowing as she does What will become of them in bloody field Or Tuscan garden, it may be that at times She sees their first and final selves at once, As a god might to whom all time is now. Or, having lived so much herself, perhaps She meets them this time with a wiser eye, Noting that Julien’s calculating head Is from the first too severed from his heart. But the true wonder of it is that she, For all that she may know of consequences, Still turns enchanted to the next bright page Like some Natasha in the ballroom door— Caught in the flow of things wherever bound, The blind delight of being, ready still To enter life on life and see them through.

MORNING GLORY by —Naomi Shihab Nye (from Fuel, 1998 Boa Editions, Ltd.) The faces of the teachers know we have failed and failed yet they focus beyond, on the windowsill the names of distant galaxies and trees. We have come in dragging. If someone would give us a needle and thread, or send us on a mission to collect something at a store, we could walk for twenty years sorting it out. How do we open, when we are so full?…

But the teachers don’t give up. They rise, dress, appear before us crisp and hopeful. They have a plan. If cranes can fly 1,000 miles or that hummingbird return from Mexico to find, curled on its crooked fence, a new vine, surely. We may dip into the sweet Together, if we hover long enough.

Poems from the Common Core Exemplars list:

“The Raven” (Edgar Allan Poe)

“Mending Wall” (Robert Frost)

Mother to Sing” (Li-Young Lee)

-Young Lee)

Poetry” (Marianne Moore)

“The Underground” (Seamus Heaney)