Tuesday, December 3, 2013
Poetry: The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly
Take about 10 minutes and write down your thoughts about poetry. What do you think it is? What makes something a poem? What do you think of poetry? What makes a poem good? What makes a poem bad? Go to poets.org and find a poem you like; copy and paste it here.
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I think that poetry is an expression of emotion written down in words. However, true poetry takes a great amount of integrity to write which is one of the reasons I think the art is so often abused. Writing for the sake of sounding educated is pretentious. If a poet feels the need to randomly skew SSAT words across their writing, the poem becomes obnoxious in my eyes. A good poem may not even have to use large words or even correct grammar to be what I consider good. As long as the emotion is clearly there, raw, and true to the person writing it, I think a poem has the potential to be good.
ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
DeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
DeleteAnd I won’t even mention the howl of orphans that reaches up to the throne of God and beyond, making a circle with no end and no God.
DeleteMe and poetry don't really go together. I don't really like poetry as of now but that might be because I have not had many classes that have studied poetry. I think with this class I might grow to like it. I think poetry is a story written in a funny way to make it seem more interesting. I don't think there are defining characteristics of poetry just a story told in many lines not paragraph. I do not know what makes a poem good or bad, it just depends on the reader wether it is good in their eyes.
ReplyDeleteA Poison Tree
Deleteby William Blake
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.
- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15524#sthash.okQIV79D.dpuf
I think poetry is a very good way to express your thoughts and to show your view of something. Poetry is a way to show your thoughts on something in creative writing and a way to express yourself. poetry can be viewed as another piece of art or as writing but it is also a creative writing piece. A good poem is something that makes sense and is on a topic, poetry is good or bad based on your own perception of the writing. I haven't really explored poetry that much, but i think that some of them are interesting and funny in the way that they can depict the topic they are writing about. A poem could be bad if it is confusing or does not have a topic and is badly written, in the way they expressed their topic.
ReplyDeleteNothing Gold Can Stay
Deleteby Robert Frost
Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.
I think a poem is a way to express emotions or ideas that are different than just writing a an essay. To me a poem has more meaning behind it. I personal like poetry because you have more freedom to express your emotions and have less rules about grammar and structure. What I think makes a poem good is the ability to get people thinking and leaves a lasting impression on them. What I think makes a poem bad is the inability to captivates the reader attention, confusing in the a way that they don't understand the poem and lack of emotion in the poem.
ReplyDeleteTwo roads diverged in a yellow wood,
DeleteAnd sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15717#sthash.E3g93svO.dpuf
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ReplyDeleteA poem is a piece of writing that "flows". It has meaning and it also makes sense to the reader, it doesn't always have to make sense at first but it should have meaning. Something that a poem normally has is a message, the message isn't always clear and there sometimes are underlying themes. I think that poetry is a good way to tell a story or convey a message. Poetry is art. It is only as good as you think it is. It will be different in everyones eyes. I think some characteristics in a good poem are a good message and makes sense. A bad poem could be hard to read or doesn't make sense.
ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
Delete
ReplyDeleteI think poetry is one of the most interesting forms of literature. I feel that in poetry things do not have to be perfect. Poetry is fascinating because of it's imperfections. Poetry is a lot like art. A painting that looks exactly like a photo can only be so interesting but a painting that isn't "perfect" but that exudes emotion is what can really get you thinking. Poetry also allows the reader to make of it what they will. In other literature there are only so many ways to look at it but with poetry the possibilities are endless. I don’t think a poem can be good or bad because that is up for each individual reader to decide.
Take this kiss upon the brow!
DeleteAnd, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow:
You are not wrong who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.
I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand--
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep--while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
Poetry to me is usually about expressing emotions and it can range from a few paragraphs to only three lines. A poem should always leave the reader thinking and trying to figure out what it truly means. I feel that if poems don't leave readers hanging by trying to find the true meaning and trying to figure out metaphors and similies, then I think that makes a bad poem. Poetry is suppose to be enjoyable for people by expressing ideas of something. For example a poem can be about anything the author wants it to be but it doesn't always need to rhyme. Poetry to me sometimes seems like it is a mystery because there is always a deeper meaning to it than just reading it through once. Sometimes it takes a couple times to understand it.
ReplyDeleteI think poetry is a very interesting way to speak feelings. I think that anything that has a hidden meaning is poetry. For a poem to be good it has to rhyme and show and not tell what the meaning of the poem is. I think a poem is best when it is about something you are passionate about. When a poem is bad it doesn't rhyme and doesn't have a very good meaning. I love when a poem keeps you thinking after you've read it. Sometimes I won't understand a poem completely until months after I've read it.
ReplyDeleteA Poison Tree by William Blake
DeleteI 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 water'd it in fears,
Night & morning with my tears;
And I sunned it with my 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 veil'd the pole:
In the morning glad I see
My foe outstretch'd beneath the tree
A poem is a collection of words that are put together to convey an idea or an experience. I think that poetry is great because it has no limits poets are free to drop and add vowels syllables and punctuation. I think a poem is good when the poet writes something for him/herself that is real. I feel like a bad poem is something that is hard to be shared or related to. (if you intend your work for other people). If not the poem should be what you want to right. I think its hard to find a truly BAD poem.
ReplyDeleteJohnny, the kitchen sink has been clogged for days, some utensil probably fell down there.
DeleteAnd the Drano won't work but smells dangerous, and the crusty dishes have piled up
waiting for the plumber I still haven't called. This is the everyday we spoke of.
It's winter again: the sky's a deep, headstrong blue, and the sunlight pours through
the open living-room windows because the heat's on too high in here and I can't turn it off.
For weeks now, driving, or dropping a bag of groceries in the street, the bag breaking,
I've been thinking: This is what the living do. And yesterday, hurrying along those
wobbly bricks in the Cambridge sidewalk, spilling my coffee down my wrist and sleeve,
I thought it again, and again later, when buying a hairbrush: This is it.
Parking. Slamming the car door shut in the cold. What you called that yearning.
What you finally gave up. We want the spring to come and the winter to pass. We want
whoever to call or not call, a letter, a kiss—we want more and more and then more of it.
But there are moments, walking, when I catch a glimpse of myself in the window glass,
say, the window of the corner video store, and I'm gripped by a cherishing so deep
for my own blowing hair, chapped face, and unbuttoned coat that I'm speechless:
I am living. I remember you.
- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/21378#sthash.PbWdbGCg.dpuf
I think poetry is a composition of phrases about a topic that a writer is passionate about. I think any fictional writing can be a poem no matter how short or long it is. Poetry can be about any topic; World War II, Basketball, or flying. I know from previous "poetry study" that there are many formats to write poetry such as a haiku. However, I don’t believe something has to follow a set format to be a poem. Quite honestly, I have never been that interested in poetry but I do have a few favorites that stand out to me and I like. I think that throughout this class I will find specific poems that stand out to me and I like, however there will be some that I do not like. For me, a poem is good when it is written by someone who has a passion. If it seems like the writer was passionate about writing it than I believe it is good. However, if a poem is very factual or not “fun/creative” then to me it is not a good poem.
ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
DeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
DeleteLate lies the wintry sun a-bed,
DeleteA frosty, fiery sleepy-head;
Blinks but an hour or two; and then,
A blood-red orange, sets again.
Before the stars have left the skies,
At morning in the dark I rise;
And shivering in my nakedness,
By the cold candle, bathe and dress.
Close by the jolly fire I sit
To warm my frozen bones a bit;
Or with a reindeer-sled, explore
The colder countries round the door.
When to go out, my nurse doth wrap
Me in my comforter and cap;
The cold wind burns my face, and blows
Its frosty pepper up my nose.
Black are my steps on silver sod;
Thick blows my frosty breath abroad;
And tree and house, and hill and lake,
Are frosted like a wedding-cake.
I connect with poetry through music. I do not really love poetry unless it is in a song. A poem doesn't have to rhyme either, but it is definitely more appealing when it does rhyme and it is in a song. I can't really find the fun in poetry unless it is in a song.
ReplyDeleteWe real cool. We Left school.
DeleteWe Lurk late. We Strike straight.
We Sing sin. We Thin gin.
We Jazz June. We Die soon.
-Gwendolyn Brooks
I think poetry is words put together to create an idea, or a story. I think that it doesn't have to make sense for it to be a poem. I think that poetry is a way to convoy ones emotions and thoughts. What I think makes a something a poem, is if that is what the writer intended it to be. I think that as long as in their eyes its a poem, I think it is a poem. I think poetry is fine way of portraying oneself on paper, but I do not read it on a regular bases. I think a poem that has a rhythm is good, one that you can tell by just reading the first line. I think that a bad poem would be one that just is rude or mean, even if that is what someone is feeling, there are other ways. Also if I can't relate to it, because It makes it harder to understand and find the meaning of the poem and why it was written.
ReplyDeleteThe Snow Man
Deleteby Wallace Stevens
One must have a mind of winter
To regard the frost and the boughs
Of the pine-trees crusted with snow;
And have been cold a long time
To behold the junipers shagged with ice,
The spruces rough in the distant glitter
Of the January sun; and not to think
Of any misery in the sound of the wind,
In the sound of a few leaves,
Which is the sound of the land
Full of the same wind
That is blowing in the same bare place
For the listener, who listens in the snow,
And, nothing himself, beholds
Nothing that is not there and the nothing that is.
I think that poetry is nice because its a different way to express yourself besides from regular sentences. Though I am fine with reading poetry, I am not very good with writing it. What I think makes a poem good is whether or not it can convey a message through the writing, whether it is straightforward or written in metaphors. Though one thing I don’t like in poetry is when its confusing and hard to understand.
ReplyDeleteDreams
DeleteBy Langston Hughes
Hold 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.
A Christmas Circular Letter
ReplyDeleteThe city had withdrawn into itself
And left at last the country to the country;
When between whirls of snow not come to lie
And whirls of foliage not yet laid, there drove
A stranger to our yard, who looked the city,
Yet did in country fashion in that there
He sat and waited till he drew us out
A-buttoning coats to ask him who he was.
He proved to be the city come again
To look for something it had left behind
And could not do without and keep its Christmas.
He asked if I would sell my Christmas trees;
My woods—the young fir balsams like a place
Where houses all are churches and have spires.
I hadn't thought of them as Christmas Trees.
I doubt if I was tempted for a moment
To sell them off their feet to go in cars
And leave the slope behind the house all bare,
Where the sun shines now no warmer than the moon.
I'd hate to have them know it if I was.
Yet more I'd hate to hold my trees except
As others hold theirs or refuse for them,
Beyond the time of profitable growth,
The trial by market everything must come to.
I dallied so much with the thought of selling.
Then whether from mistaken courtesy
And fear of seeming short of speech, or whether
From hope of hearing good of what was mine,
I said, "There aren't enough to be worth while."
"I could soon tell how many they would cut,
You let me look them over."
"You could look.
But don't expect I'm going to let you have them."
Pasture they spring in, some in clumps too close
That lop each other of boughs, but not a few
Quite solitary and having equal boughs
All round and round. The latter he nodded "Yes" to,
Or paused to say beneath some lovelier one,
With a buyer's moderation, "That would do."
I thought so too, but wasn't there to say so.
We climbed the pasture on the south, crossed over,
And came down on the north.
He said, "A thousand."
"A thousand Christmas trees!—at what apiece?"
He felt some need of softening that to me:
"A thousand trees would come to thirty dollars."
Then I was certain I had never meant
To let him have them. Never show surprise!
But thirty dollars seemed so small beside
The extent of pasture I should strip, three cents
(For that was all they figured out apiece),
Three cents so small beside the dollar friends
I should be writing to within the hour
Would pay in cities for good trees like those,
Regular vestry-trees whole Sunday Schools
Could hang enough on to pick off enough.
A thousand Christmas trees I didn't know I had!
Worth three cents more to give away than sell,
As may be shown by a simple calculation.
Too bad I couldn't lay one in a letter.
I can't help wishing I could send you one,
In wishing you herewith a Merry Christmas.
- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/19307#sthash.7z0ZlDNn.dpuf
Poetry is a formation of words that evokes feeling. Any text can be a poem if you try hard enough. However, good poems are good at evoking emotion and bad poems are bad at that.
ReplyDeleteWynken, Blynken, and Nod one night Sailed off in a wooden shoe,— Sailed on a river of crystal light Into a sea of dew. "Where are you going, and what do you wish?" The old moon asked the three. "We have come to fish for the herring-fish That live in this beautiful sea; Nets of silver and gold have we," Said Wynken, Blynken, And Nod. The old moon laughed and sang a song, As they rocked in the wooden shoe; And the wind that sped them all night long Ruffled the waves of dew; The little stars were the herring-fish That lived in the beautiful sea. "Now cast your nets wherever you wish,— Never afraid are we!" So cried the stars to the fishermen three, Wynken, Blynken, And Nod. All night long their nets they threw To the stars in the twinkling foam,— Then down from the skies came the wooden shoe, Bringing the fishermen home: 'Twas all so pretty a sail, it seemed As if it could not be; And some folk thought 'twas a dream they'd dreamed Of sailing that beautiful sea; But I shall name you the fishermen three: Wynken, Blynken, And Nod. Wynken and Blynken are two little eyes, And Nod is a little head, And the wooden shoe that sailed the skies Is a wee one's trundle-bed; So shut your eyes while Mother sings Of wonderful sights that be, And you shall see the beautiful things As you rock in the misty sea Where the old shoe rocked the fishermen three:— Wynken, Blynken, And Nod. - See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15720#sthash.n5wZXFkw.dpuf