2. Gain an understanding of a specific poet and his/her work.

3. Evaluate online resources to aid a research project to demonstrate understanding of poetry related literary terms

4. PA STANDARDS

5. 1.3.11A Read and understand works of literature

7. Alliteration

8. Hyperbole

9. Metaphors

10. Simile

11. Personification

13. Poetry Test (Objective #1, #2)

14. PBL project on Poetry (Objective #3)

15. ACTIVITIES

17. Shakespeare, William

18. Carroll, Lewis

19. Whitman, Walt

20. Blake, William

21. Silverstein, Shel

22. Yeats, William Butler

23. Sanchez, Sonia

24. Longfellow, Henry Wordsworth

25. Lear, Edward

26. Kipling, Rudyard

27. Keats, John

28. Plath, Sylvia

29. Tennyson, Alfred Lord

30. Giovanni, Nikki

31. Hughes, Langston

32. Angelou, Maya

33. Frost, Robert

34. Emerson, Ralph Waldo

35. Eliot, T.S.

36. Dickinson, Emily

37. Cummunings. E. E.

38. Neruda, Pablo

39. Collins, Billy

40. Oliver, Mary

41. Rich, Adrianne

42. Wheatley, Phyllis

43. Bishop, Elizabeth

44. Prelutsky, Jack

45. Pinsky, Robert

46. Walker, Alice

47. Brooks, Gwendolyn

48. Wordsworth, William

49. Browning, Elizabeth Barrett

50. Sandburg, Carl

51. Stevenson, Robert Louis

52. Geisel, Theodore

53. Dove, Rita

54. Thomas, Dylan

56. Amiri Baraka

57. Arna Bontemps

58. Lucille Clifton

59. Countee Cullen

60. Paul Laurence Dunbar

61. Rita Dove

62. Cornelius Eady

63. James A. Emanuel

64. Jessie Redmon Fauset

65. Nikki Giovanni

66. Langston Hughes

67. Robert Hayden

68. Forrest Hamer

69. Jupiter Hammon

70. Yusef Komunyakaa

71. Etheridge Knight

72. Audre Lorde

73. Claude McKay

74. Maya Angelou

75. Wanda Phipps

76. Natasha Trethewey

77. Quincy Troupe

78. Alice Walker

79. Phillis Wheatley

81. EXTRA-CREDIT OPPORTUNITY: During the duration of this LAP, you may bring in one of your favorite poems to share with the class and then give a brief explanation to why you chose this poem. You will reward points based on the effort put forth. (Objective #1, 2)

82. CRITERIA FOR CHOOSING A POEM & EARNING EXTRA CREDIT: Poem must have at least one of the poetic elements discussed in class (rhyme, alliteration, metaphor). You must be able to discuss the importance of this poem and explain the poetic element that it contains. You must have enough copies for class on the day you are presenting your poem. (Objective #1, 2)

84. Pictures of your poet and times in which she/he lived in

85. Oral reading of a poem

87. Pictures of your poet and times in which she/he lived in

89. education,

90. career,

91. major publications,

92. awards/reorganization received,

93. contribution to society and finally

94. how poet’s life ended. Your essay should include a bibliography where you cite your sources. <br />Task 5: Draw/paint an 8.5 X 11 portrait for your poet based on his or her life. <br />Write in the back of your portrait or on a separate piece of paper the following information: how does your portrait reflect the poet’s life, what events from his/her life did you consider when creating this portrait.<br />Task 6: Create a Zine (mini magazine) based on the life of your poet and his/her poems.<br />Task 7: Write an original spoken-word/rap piece based on the themes covered in your poet’s work.<br />Task 8: Write a resume for your poet based on his/her life.<br />Task 9: Teach a lesson to the class about your poet’s work/life.<br />Task 10: Create your own project, which will help you study the poet of your choice; your project must be approved before you can begin.<br />I, Too, Sing America by Langston HughesI, too, sing America. I am the darker brother. They send me to eat in the kitchen When company comes, But I laugh, And eat well, And grow strong. Tomorrow, I'll be at the table When company comes. Nobody'll dare Say to me, quot;
Eat in the kitchen,quot;
Then. Besides, They'll see how beautiful I am And be ashamed-- I, too, am America.Dreams by Langston HughesHold fast to dreams For if dreams die Life is a broken-winged bird That cannot fly. Hold fast to dreams For when dreams go Life is a barren field Frozen with snow.We Real Coolby Gwendolyn BrooksTHE POOL PLAYERS. SEVEN AT THE GOLDEN SHOVEL. We real cool. We Left school. We Lurk late. We Strike straight. We Sing sin. We Thin gin. We Jazz June. We Die soon.They Ask: Is God, Too, Lonely?Carl SandburgWhen God scooped up a handful of dust,And spit on it, and molded the shape of man,And blew breath into it and told it to walk—That was a great day.And did God do this because he was lonely?Did God say to Himself he must have companyAnd therefore he would make a man to walk the earthAnd set apart churches for speech and song with God?These are questions.They are scrawled in old caves.They are painted in tall cathedrals.There are men and women so lonely they believeGod, too, is lonely.<br />Introduction to PoetryBilly CollinsI ask them to take a poemand hold it up to the lightlike a color slideor press an ear against its hive.I say drop a mouse into a poemand watch him probe his way out,or walk inside the poem's roomand feel the walls for a light switch.I want them to waterskiacross the surface of a poemwaving at the author's name on the shore.But all they want to dois tie the poem to a chair with ropeand torture a confession out of it.They begin beating it with a hoseto find out what it really means.since feeling is firste.e. cummings since feeling is firstwho pays any attentionto the syntax of thingswill never wholly kiss you;wholly to be a foolwhile Spring is in the worldmy blood approves,and kisses are a better fatethan wisdomlady i swear by all flowers. Don't cry—the best gesture of my brain is less thanyour eyelids' flutter which sayswe are for each other: thenlaugh, leaning back in my armsfor life's not a paragraphAnd death i think is no parenthesisI like your body when it is with youre.e. cummingsi like my body when it is with yourbody. It is so quite a new thing.Muscles better and nerves more.i like your body. i like what it does,i like its hows. i like to feel the spineof your body and its bones, and the trembling-firm-smooth ness and which i willagain and again and againkiss, i like kissing this and that of you,i like, slowly stroking the, shocking fuzzof your electric fur, and what-is-it comesover parting flesh . . . . And eyes big love-crumbs,and possibly i like the thrillof under me you quite so newThis Is Just To Say by William Carlos WilliamsI have eatenthe plums that were in the icebox and whichyou were probablysavingfor breakfast Forgive methey were delicious so sweet and so cold<br />The Lesson by Maya AngelouI keep on dying again.Veins collapse, opening like theSmall fists of sleepingChildren.Memory of old tombs,Rotting flesh and worms doNot convince me againstThe challenge. The yearsAnd cold defeat live deep inLines along my face.They dull my eyes, yetI keep on dying,Because I love to live.Poem #3I gather up each sound you left behind and stretch them on our bed. each nite I breathe you and become high. Written by Sonia SanchezThis Marriage - RumiThis MarriageMay these vows and this marriage be blessed. May it be sweet milk, this marriage, like wine and halvah. May this marriage offer fruit and shade like the date palm. May this marriage be full of laughter, our every day a day in paradise. May this marriage be a sign of compassion, a seal of happiness here and hereafter. May this marriage have a fair face and a good name, an omen as welcomes the moon in a clear blue sky. I am out of words to describe how spirit mingles in this marriage.Balances by Nikki Giovanniin lifeone is alwaysbalancinglike we juggle our mothersagainst our fathersor one teacheragainst another(only to balance our grade average)3 grains of saltto one ounce truthour sweet black essenceor the funky honkies down the streetand lately i've begun wonderingif you're trying to tell me somethingwe used to talk all nightand do things alone togetherand i've begun(as a reaction to a feeling)to balancethe pleasure of lonelinessagainst the painof loving youWinter PoemNikki Giovannionce a snowflake fell on my brow and i loved it so much and i kissed it and it was happy and called its cousins and brothers and a web of snow engulfed me then i reached to love them all and i squeezed them and they became a spring rain and i stood perfectly still and was a flowerSylvia Plath Mirror I am silver and exact. I have no preconceptions.Whatever I see, I swallow immediately.Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislikeI am not cruel, only truthful –The eye of a little god, four-cornered.Most of the time I meditate on the opposite wall.It is pink, with speckles. I have looked at it so longI think it is a part of my heart. But it flickers.Faces and darkness separate us over and over. Now I am a lake. A woman bends over me.Searching my reaches for what she really is.Then she turns to those liars, the candles or the moon.I see her back, and reflect it faithfullyShe rewards me with tears and an agitation of hands.I am important to her. She comes and goes.Each morning it is her face that replaces the darkness.In me she has drowned a young girl, and in me an old womanRises toward her day after day, like a terrible fish. The Rose That Grew From ConcreteDid you hear about the rose that grew from a crack in the concrete? Proving nature's law is wrong it learned to walk with out having feet. Funny it seems, but by keeping it's dreams, it learned to breathe fresh air. Long live the rose that grew from concrete when no one else ever cared.Claude McKay: If We Must Die (1919)In 1919 there was a wave of race riots consisting mainly of white assaults on black neighborhoods in a dozen American cities. Jamaican-born writer Claude McKay responded by writing this sonnet, urging his comrades to fight back. It had a powerful impact, then and later.For what reason does McKay say even a doomed resistance is worth while?If we must die, let it not be like hogsHunted and penned in an inglorious spot,While round us bark the mad and hungry dogs,Making their mock at our accursed lot.If we must die, O let us nobly die,So that our precious blood may not be shedIn vain; then even the monsters we defyShall be constrained to honor us though dead!O kinsmen we must meet the common foe!Though far outnumbered let us show us brave,And for their thousand blows deal one deathblow!What though before us lies the open grave?Like men we'll face the murderous, cowardly pack,Pressed to the wall, dying, but fighting back!<br />POETRY ANALYSIS QUIZ<br />Name: ________________ Period: _____________ Date: _____________<br />Please review the poem carefully then write a poem analysis using the model we discussed in our class. Good luck and I look forward to reading your response. <br />Eating Poetry Mark StrandIEating PoetryInk runs from the corners of my mouth.There is no happiness like mine.I have been eating poetry.The librarian does not believe what she sees.Her eyes are sadand she walks with her hands in her dress.The poems are gone.The light is dim.The dogs are on the basement stairs and coming up.Their eyeballs roll,their blond legs burn like brush.The poor librarian begins to stamp her feet and weep.She does not understand.When I get on my knees and lick her hand,she screams.I am a new man,I snarl at her and bark,I romp with joy in the bookish dark.<br />