February 13, 2008 at 5:48 pm (Poetry)
So many breezes
wander through my summer room:
but never enough
Issa

hibiscus flowers
munched up in the horse’s mouth
eaten one by one
Basso

Boneless, translucent,
We undulate, undulate,
Gelatinously.
Jack Prelutsky
What do you notice about Haiku? I notice how the poet expresses his feelings about something in nature; how he creates a visual image from a natural scene, usually through personification; I notice the precision of word choice and the succinct language–the Japanese refer to this as “wa” or harmony; I believe that the Japanese poets of long ago frowned on verbosity or wordiness; I see who or what, I see what they are doing, where it is happening, and how or why it is happening.
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February 13, 2008 at 4:48 pm (Poetry)
Okay; so I have certainly alluded to the “virtues” of vulnerability and humility in teaching and learning; more specifically as Dan Liston would argue, that vulnerability is an inescapable condition of teaching and learning. I fully acknowledge that we teachers should experience the joys and the delights, as well as the discomforts and tensions of vulnerability and uncertainties in our teaching. So, I am embracing this today by sharing a draft of a manuscript. Please know, this is only a draft! However, I do believe it may provide you with a more specific instructional and theoretical framework for writing informational poetry with your students. Enjoy : )Please see attached manuscript. Also, please use Writing Circle 3 to guide your discussion tonight.
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February 13, 2008 at 3:52 pm (Poetry)
How to Eat a Poem
Don’t be polite.
Bite in.
Pick it up with your fingers and lick the
juice that may run down your chin.
It is ready and ripe now, wherever you are.
You do not need a knife or a fork or a spoon
or plate or napkin or tablecloth.
For there is no core
or stem
or rind
or pit
or seed
or skin
to throw away.
- Eve Merriam
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February 13, 2008 at 3:40 pm (Poetry)
the drum
daddy says the world is
a drum tight and hard
and i told him
i’m gonna beat
out my own rhythm
by Nikki Giovanni
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February 13, 2008 at 3:32 pm (Poetry)
Burrows
Out in the country I walk across towns
I'll never see:
mazy metropolises
under the earth
where rabbits hide from foxes
foxes hide from dogs
full-bellied snakes sleep snugly
worms work uncomplaining
Where what you see is nothing--
what counts is what you smell
or hear or feel
I try to tread softly:
a quiet giant
leaving only footprints
on the roof
Marilyn Singer
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