What is Poetry?
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Poetry is one of the three major types of
literature, the others being prose and drama.
Most poems make use of highly concise,
musical, and emotionally charged language.
Many also make use of imagery, figurative
language, and special devices of sound such as
rhyme. Poems are often divided into lines and
stanzas and often employ regular rhythmical
patterns, or meters. Poetry that does not
follow a regular metrical pattern is called free
verse.
things that are true expressed in words that
are beautiful.
- Dante
the best words in the best order.
-Samuel Taylor Coleridge
the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings.
-William Wordsworth
musical thought.
-Thomas Carlyle
Stanza
An arrangement of a certain number of
lines, two or more, sometimes having a
fixed length, meter, or rhyme scheme,
forming a division of a poem.
“My River Runs to Thee” by Emily Dickinson
My river runs to thee:
Blue sea, wilt welcome me?
My river waits reply.
Oh sea, look graciously!
I ’ll fetch thee brooks
From spotted nooks,—
Say, sea,
Take me!
How to read a poem:
1. Begin by reading the poem straight through, with no
particular expectations: read open-mindedly.
2. On the second reading, read for the exact meaning of all
the words; if there are words you don’t understand, look
them up in a dictionary. Stay on any difficult parts as long as
you need to.
3. If you read the poem silently to yourself, sound its words in
your mind. Read the poem aloud or hear someone else read
it.
4. Re-read the poem repeatedly until you understand its
meaning and purpose.
Popular Subjects for Poetry
love
life
death
relationships
sports
nature
beauty
food
desire
change
friendships
war
women
men
poverty
politics
mothers
fathers
ghosts
illness
rain
snow
storms
heat
seasons
paradise
education
journeys
freedom
night
day
religion
suicide
birth
loneliness
depression
failure
success
victory
loss
moon
stars
IMAGERY
Imagery
An image is a representation of anything we can see,
hear, taste, touch, or smell. A painter or sculptor can
create an image of an apple so true to life that we’d
like to eat it or feel its weight and roundness in our
hands. A poet, using only words, can make us see,
feel, taste, and smell an apple by describing it as
“rosy,” “shiny,” “heavy,” “mushy,” “sweet.” The
language that appeals to our five senses and creates
images in our minds is called imagery.
“In a Station of the Metro”
by Ezra Pound
The apparition of these faces in the crowd;
Petals on a wet, black bough.
“In a Station of the Metro”
by Ezra Pound
The apparition of these faces in the crowd;
Petals on a wet, black bough.
“In a Station of the Metro”
by Ezra Pound
ghost-like image
The apparition of these faces in the crowd;
Petals on a wet, black bough.
tree branch
“The Red Wheelbarrow”
by William Carlos Williams
so much depends
upon
the red wheel
barrow
glazed with rain
water
beside the white
chickens
“The Red Wheelbarrow”
by William Carlos Williams
so much depends
upon
the red wheel
barrow
glazed with rain
water
beside the white
chickens
“The Piercing Chill I Feel”
by Taniguchi Buson
The piercing chill I feel:
my dead wife's comb, in our bedroom,
under my heel . . .
“The Piercing Chill I Feel”
by Taniguchi Buson
The piercing chill I feel:
my dead wife's comb, in our bedroom,
under my heel . . .
“Root Cellar”
by Theodore Roethke
Nothing would sleep in that cellar, dank as a ditch
Bulbs broke out of boxes hunting for chinks in the dark,
Shoots dangled and drooped,
Lolling obscenely from mildewed crates,
Hung down long yellow evil necks, like tropical snakes.
And what a congress of stinks!---
Roots ripe as old bait,
Pulpy stems, rank, silo-rich,
Leaf-mold, manure, lime, piled against slippery planks.
Nothing would give up life:
Even the dirt kept breathing a small breath.
“Root Cellar”
by Theodore Roethke
Nothing would sleep in that cellar, dank as a ditch
Bulbs broke out of boxes hunting for chinks in the dark,
Shoots dangled and drooped,
Lolling obscenely from mildewed crates,
Hung down long yellow evil necks, like tropical snakes.
And what a congress of stinks!---
Roots ripe as old bait,
Pulpy stems, rank, silo-rich,
Leaf-mold, manure, lime, piled against slippery planks.
Nothing would give up life:
Even the dirt kept breathing a small breath.
“Root Cellar”
by Theodore Roethke
damp
Nothing would sleep in that cellar, dank as a ditch
Bulbs broke out of boxes hunting for chinks in the dark,
Shoots dangled and drooped,
crack
Lolling obscenely from mildewed crates,
Hung down long yellow evil necks, like tropical snakes.
And what a congress of stinks!---
hanging loosely
gathering
very fertile; massive growth
Roots ripe as old bait,
Pulpy stems, rank, silo-rich,
Leaf-mold, manure, lime, piled against slippery planks.
Nothing would give up life:
Even the dirt kept breathing a small breath.
“The Runner”
by Walt Whitman
On a flat road runs the well-train’d runner;
He is lean and sinewy, with muscular legs;
He is thinly clothed---he leans forward as he runs,
With lightly closed fists, and arms partially rais’d.
“The Runner”
by Walt Whitman
On a flat road runs the well-train’d runner;
He is lean and sinewy, with muscular legs;
He is thinly clothed---he leans forward as he runs,
With lightly closed fists, and arms partially rais’d.
“The Runner”
by Walt Whitman
muscular/powerful
On a flat road runs the well-train’d runner;
He is lean and sinewy, with muscular legs;
He is thinly clothed---he leans forward as he runs,
With lightly closed fists, and arms partially rais’d.
Simile & Metaphor
simile: A comparison of two things, indicated by
some connective word, usually like, as, than, or
resembles. A simile usually compares two things
that initially seem unlike, but are shown to have a
significant resemblance.
He ran like the ________.
He has a heart as big as __________.
Her eyes sparkle like __________.
Simile
He ran like the wind.
He has a heart as big as a mountain.
Her eyes sparkle like Edward’s face.
metaphor: A statement that one thing is
something else, which in a literal sense (in reality),
it is not. It is a figure of speech that connects two
or more things without using the words "like" or
"as."
Love is a ________.
School is a __________.
The bathrooms at Bellflower High are _________.
His tears were a ___________ flowing down his
cheeks.
Metaphor
Love is a battlefield.
School is a prison.
The bathrooms at Bellflower High are
the armpits of the school.
His tears were a waterfall flowing
down his cheeks.