Archive for January, 2012

Looking at Onomatophoea.

Posted: January 30, 2012 in Uncategorized

I was looking for some examples of  onomatophoea and this is what i found. A website that has some great examples (http://www.mywordwizard.com/onomatopoeia-poems.html).

Mom & Dad Are Home

Slam! Slam!
Go the car doors.
Jangle! Jangle!
Go the house keys.
Jiggle! Jiggle!
Go the keys in the door.
Squeak!
Goes the front door!
Thump! Thump!
That is me running down the stairs.
Guess what?
Mom and Dad are home!!

The Game

Clap! Clap!
Stomp! Stomp!
Swish! Swish!
This is the way we get through
Our games.
The crowd shouts,
”Yahoo!”
The ball soars through the air.
Then, bounce, bounce, bounce.
The audience holds its breath.
SWISH!
The ball goes in;
We win!

Camping

Crack! Crack!
The fire crackles under the stars.
Sizzle! Sizzle!
The water sizzles above the fire.
Crunch! Crunch!
The campers crunching on potato chips.
Click! Clack! Click! Clack!
The tent poles clicking and clacking together.
Rustle! Rustle! As we prepare our sleeping bags to go to sleep.
Chirp! Chirp!
The crickets say, “good-night”.

To Grandma’s We Go

Rumble! Rumble!
The thunder roars.
Drip! Drip!
The rain comes down.
Boom! Boom!
The thunder shakes the window panes.
Run to the car! Run to the car!
Splash! Splash!
To Grandma’s we go
For hot cocoa.
Zoom! Zoom!

 

What do you notice about these poems?

Imagery in Poems

Posted: January 26, 2012 in Uncategorized
We all love to read poetry that evokes strong mental pictures.  The Imagery Poems Collection from the writers at My Word Wizard does just that. This wonderful assemblage of verse appeals to the senses as it uses language to paint pictures with words.
Imagery intensifies our experience with a poet’s writing as he or she illustrates for us with their words rather than just telling us what they are feeling.

Fall

The chilly weather settles into your bones.
Those once green leaves turn
Red, yellow, orange, and brown.
CRRNCH! go the leaves,,
Beneath  your feet.
The birds fly in a victory “V” formation,
To where the sun rules the skies.
The days of winter are lurking around
Waiting to be free falling.

Spring

The newborn flowers blossom
in all sizes and vivid colors.
When you walk by, their sweet
and luscious aromas ensnare you..
The beautiful butterflies titter
Around the light grassy areas.
The trees are full of lush, dark green leaves.
Spring is when you can really savor
the intense scent of nature.

My Summer Day

Blue green like a crayon is the glistening, warm water.
The brownish sand is warm between my welcoming toes.
The excited shouts of the little kids
As they send loud bursts of water at each other.
Assortment of tan bodies stretch along their beach,
A chain of diversity thriving in the sun..
The red, yellow, and blue kites
Gracefully dot the sky.
This is the life on the beach!

Poetry by Natasha Niemi

County Fair Place Assignment

Posted: January 25, 2012 in Uncategorized

As you work on your county fair assisgnment. Please use the following document for your good copy.

 

Place

A jigsaw for poetry

Posted: January 11, 2012 in Uncategorized

As we begin poetry, here is a little exersize that we can use as a good talking point.

 

Once you have completed it, create a blog post explaining what it means in your own words.

 

If you complete that, find a poetry site and add links to it on your blogroll.

 

http://www.jigsawplanet.com/?rc=play&pid=13c839ba6d37

 

 

Another Very Famous Poem

Posted: January 10, 2012 in Uncategorized

The Creamation of Sam Magee was written by Robert Service. It was originally published in 1907. It concerns the cremation of a prospector who freezes to death near Lake Laberge in the  Yukon, Canada, as told by the man who cremates him. The man reading this poem is not, Robert Service as Robert Service passed away in 1958, years before internet.

The words to the poem are:

The Cremation of Sam McGee

poem by Robert W. Service

There are strange things done in the midnight sun
By the men who moil for gold.
The arctic trails have their secret tales
That would make your blood run cold.
The northern lights have seen queer sights
But the queerest they ever did see,
Was that night on the marge of Lake LeBarge
I cremated Sam McGee.

Now Sam McGee was from Tenessee
Where the cotton blooms and blows.
Why he left his home in the south to roam
’round the Pole, God only knows.
He was always cold, but the land of gold
Seemed to hold him like a spell,
Though he’d often say in his homely way
That “he’d sooner live in Hell.”

On a Christmas day we were mushing our way
Over the Dawson trail.
Talk of your cold! through the parka’s fold
It stabbed like a driven nail.
If our eyes we’d close, then the lashes froze
till sometimes we couldn’t see.
It wasn’t much fun, but the only one
To whimper was Sam McGee.

And that very night, as we lay packed tight
In our robes beneath the snow,
And the dogs were fed, and the stars o’er head
Were dancing heel and toe,
He turns to me, and “Cap” says he
“I’ll cash in this trip, I guess.
And if I do, I’m asking that you
Won’t refuse my last request.”

Well, he seemed so low that I couldn’t say no,
Then he says with a sort of a moan,
“It’s the cursed cold, it’s got right hold
’til I’m chilled clean through to the bone.
Yet tain’t being dead – it’s my awful dread
Of the icy grave that pains.
So I want you to swear that, foul or fair,
You’ll cremate my last remains.”

A pal’s last need is a thing to heed,
So I swore I would not fail.
And we started on at the streak of dawn,
But, God! he looked ghastly pale.
He crouched on the sleigh, and he raved all day
Of his home in Tenessee,
And before nightfall, a corpse was all
That was left of Sam McGee.

There wasn’t a breath in that land of death,
And I hurried, horror-driven.
With a corpse half hid, that I couldn’t get rid,
Because of a promise given.
It was lashed to the sleigh, and it seemed to say,
“You may tax your brawn and your brains,
But you promised true, and it’s up to you
To cremate those last remains.”
Now, a promise made is a debt unpaid,
And the trail has its own stern code.
In the days to come, though my lips were dumb,
In my heart, how I cursed that load.
In the long, long night by the lone firelight
While the huskies ’round in a ring
Howled out their woes to the homeless snows
Oh, God, how I loathed the thing.

And every day that quiet clay
Seemed to heavy and heavier grow.
But on I went, though the dogs were spent
And the grub was getting low.
The trail was bad, and I felt half mad,
But I swore I would not give in.
And I’d often sing to the hateful thing
And it harkened with a grin.

Till I came to the marge of Lake LeBarge
And a derelict there lay.
It was jammed in the ice, but I saw in a trice
It was called the “Alice May”.
And I looked at it, and I thought a bit,
And I looked at my frozen chum,
Then “Here,” said I with a sudden cry
“Is my cre-ma-tor-eum.”

Some planks I tore from the cabin floor
And lit the boiler fire.
Some coal I found that was lying around
And heaped the fuel higher.
The flames just soared, and the furnace roared –
Such a blaze you seldom see.
And I burrowed a hole in the glowing coal
And I stuffed in Sam McGee.

Then I made a hike, for I didn’t like
to hear him sizzle so.
And the heavens scowled and the huskies howled
and the wind began to blow.
It was icy cold, but the hot sweat rolled
down my cheeks, I don’t know why.
And the greasy smoke in an inky cloak
went streaking down the sky.

I do not know how long in the snow
I wrestled with grisly fear.
But the stars were out and they danced about
‘ere again I ventured near.
I was sick with dread, but I bravely said
“I’ll just take a peep inside.
I guess he’s cooked, and it’s time I looked”
…Then the door I opened wide.

And there sat Sam, looking cold and calm
In the heart of the furnace roar.
And he wore a smile you could see a mile,
And said “Please close that door.
It’s fine in here, but I greatly fear
You’ll let in the cold and storm.
Since I left Plumtree, down in Tenessee,
It’s the first time I’ve been warm.”

There are strange things done in the midnight sun
By the men who moil for gold.
The arctic trails have their secret tales
That would make your blood run cold.
The northern lights have seen queer sights,
But the queerest they ever did see
Was that night on the marge of Lake LeBarge
I cremated Sam McGee.

Performance Poetry

Posted: January 10, 2012 in Uncategorized

One of the things that we are going to be working toward is our own slam poem. This style of poetry is intended to really give the audience an emotional response to show them how passionate about the topic the poet is.

Here are some examples from some poets:

 

 

I had a holiday, did you?

Posted: January 10, 2012 in Thoughts

Welcome to 2012.

My family and I stayed here in Singapore this holiday for Christmas. We thought about going home, but the tickets were just too crazy. So instead we spent some time here and explored.

One of the activities we did was go to the Science Center to see the dinosaur exhibit. Ben loved the area where he could dig for bones and pretend to be an archeologist. At first he was nervous about the size of the robotic lifesize dinos, but once we decided they are puppets, he was just fine.

Later we spent some time at the Singapore Aquarium. Luke was facinated by the fish but was confused as too why he could not touch them.

After Christmas we went to the offroad RC track to take my new truck for a ride. Ben’s lambourgini did not do to well and ended up losing a mirror. We may need to upgrade his.

Overall it was a very relaxing holiday!