tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15169268401684035272024-03-14T17:28:52.505+08:00POETRY PROSE DRAMATEXTS FOR THE LANGUAGE & LITERATURE CLASSROOMDanielle Zhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15145469978124938940noreply@blogger.comBlogger74125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1516926840168403527.post-44826560171763530332013-07-20T22:30:00.001+08:002013-07-20T22:30:29.670+08:00Story StartersStumbled upon <a href="http://www.scholastic.com/teachers/story-starters/">Story Starters</a> while I was thinking up topics for my Sec 1 English composition paper. Not that these wacky ideas would ever land up in an exam (would they...?) but I'd like to think that there would be some occasion to use this in a classroom. That creative writing could find itself into a comfortable spot in the Language or Literature classroom.<div>
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Danielle Zhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15145469978124938940noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1516926840168403527.post-84660110473659974252012-09-18T12:25:00.001+08:002012-09-18T12:25:57.507+08:00Printing Money by Toh Hsien MinAs my dad used to say whenever he <br>
thought we were spending all his thrift,<br>
do you think I print money? I didn't really <br>
know at that time whether to take him seriously.<br>
I mean, I was six, maybe seven. My concept of<br>
money extended to what I got for wanton mee <br>
at school recess only, and everything else I<br>
asked for knowing who would give it but not <br>
what this person would do to give it to me.<br>
One December, shopping at Isetan, he pretended<br>
to refuse to buy me a die-cast Millennium Falcon,<br>
and when I returned to that special aisle and shelf<br>
in the toy department the last one was gone,<br>
the absent shrine of a forgetful grief. My dad<br>
unwrapped it, under the tree, for a boy who<br>
still believed Santa Claus came down the chimney,<br>
even though we had no chimney. Dad believed<br>
in the deserts of hard work, years and years<br>
with the same employer, saving money by<br>
fixing the blinds and electrical extensions himself.<br>
Never quite recovered when his firm let him go,<br>
three years before retirement age. Now that I've aged<br>
also, and the difference between a good year<br>
and a bad year is a greenback hedge, I know.<br>
My dad doesn't print money, but someone out there<br>
does. It all revolves on being on the right side<br>
of that ocean-equation, whether you're holding Treasuries<br>
and knowing how to deploy the funds you haven't got.<br>
Someone's got to lose, just as somewhere in the world<br>
the stratonimbus plan a margin-call, and elsewhere<br>
beneath molten sky unwearied Namibians speak again<br>
of the season of dry water, stretching endlessly <br>
before them, shimmering like silver, one remove<br>
from the hardtack stop-loss of the ground,<br>
that forgiving, unnourished, ageless ground.<br>
Danielle Zhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15145469978124938940noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1516926840168403527.post-23921117358549347602012-03-29T21:25:00.000+08:002012-03-29T21:26:07.564+08:00Dream Variations by Langston HughesTo fling my arms wide<br />In some place of the sun,<br />To whirl and to dance<br />Till the white day is done.<br />Then rest at cool evening<br />Beneath a tall tree<br />While night comes on gently,<br /> Dark like me--<br />That is my dream!<br /><br />To fling my arms wide<br />In the face of the sun,<br />Dance! Whirl! Whirl!<br />Till the quick day is done.<br />Rest at pale evening . . .<br />A tall, slim tree . . .<br />Night coming tenderly<br /> Black like me.Danielle Zhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15145469978124938940noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1516926840168403527.post-2473442042423683072012-03-29T21:24:00.000+08:002012-03-29T21:25:04.627+08:00Harlem: A Dream Deferred by Langston HughesWhat happens to a dream deferred?<br /><br />Does it dry up<br />like a raisin in the sun?<br />Or fester like a sore -<br />And then run?<br />Does it stink like rotten meat?<br />Or crust and sugar over -<br />like a syrupy sweet?<br /><br />Maybe it just sags<br />like a heavy load.<br /><br />Or does it explode?Danielle Zhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15145469978124938940noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1516926840168403527.post-38780549401272053002012-03-29T21:20:00.001+08:002012-03-29T21:20:45.593+08:00Who Has Seen the Wind? by Christina RossettiWho has seen the wind?<br />Neither I nor you:<br />But when the leaves hang trembling,<br />The wind is passing through.<br /><br />Who has seen the wind?<br />Neither you nor I:<br />But when the trees bow down their heads,<br />The wind is passing by.Danielle Zhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15145469978124938940noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1516926840168403527.post-22224143561895572632012-03-29T21:08:00.000+08:002012-03-29T21:09:14.561+08:00Woman Work by Maya AngelouI've got the children to tend<br />The clothes to mend<br />The floor to mop<br />The food to shop<br />Then the chicken to fry<br />The baby to dry<br />I got company to feed<br />The garden to weed<br />I've got shirts to press<br />The tots to dress<br />The can to be cut<br />I gotta clean up this hut<br />Then see about the sick<br />And the cotton to pick.<br /><br />Shine on me, sunshine<br />Rain on me, rain<br />Fall softly, dewdrops<br />And cool my brow again.<br /><br />Storm, blow me from here<br />With your fiercest wind<br />Let me float across the sky<br />'Til I can rest again.<br /><br />Fall gently, snowflakes<br />Cover me with white<br />Cold icy kisses and<br />Let me rest tonight.<br /><br />Sun, rain, curving sky<br />Mountain, oceans, leaf and stone<br />Star shine, moon glow<br />You're all that I can call my own.Danielle Zhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15145469978124938940noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1516926840168403527.post-9910495414908000882012-03-29T21:06:00.001+08:002012-03-29T21:08:09.824+08:00Philosophy by Frederick LangbridgeTwo men look out through the same bars:<br />One sees mud - and one sees stars.Danielle Zhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15145469978124938940noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1516926840168403527.post-22681538024176254022012-03-29T00:02:00.001+08:002012-03-29T00:02:27.388+08:00Us Two by A.A. MilneWherever I am, there's always Pooh,<br />There's always Pooh and Me.<br />Whatever I do, he wants to do,<br />"Where are you going today?" says Pooh:<br />"Well, that's very odd 'cos I was too.<br />Let's go together," says Pooh, says he.<br />"Let's go together," says Pooh.<br /><br />"What's twice eleven?" I said to Pooh.<br />("Twice what?" said Pooh to Me.)<br />"I think it ought to be twenty-two."<br />"Just what I think myself," said Pooh.<br />"It wasn't an easy sum to do,<br />But that's what it is," said Pooh, said he.<br />"That's what it is," said Pooh.<br /><br />"Let's look for dragons," I said to Pooh.<br />"Yes, let's," said Pooh to Me.<br />We crossed the river and found a few-<br />"Yes, those are dragons all right," said Pooh.<br />"As soon as I saw their beaks I knew.<br />That's what they are," said Pooh, said he.<br />"That's what they are," said Pooh.<br /><br />"Let's frighten the dragons," I said to Pooh.<br />"That's right," said Pooh to Me.<br />"I'm not afraid," I said to Pooh,<br />And I held his paw and I shouted "Shoo!<br />Silly old dragons!"- and off they flew.<br /><br />"I wasn't afraid," said Pooh, said he,<br />"I'm never afraid with you." <br /><br />So wherever I am, there's always Pooh,<br />There's always Pooh and Me.<br />"What would I do?" I said to Pooh,<br />"If it wasn't for you," and Pooh said: "True,<br />It isn't much fun for One, but Two,<br />Can stick together, says Pooh, says he. "That's how it is," says Pooh.Danielle Zhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15145469978124938940noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1516926840168403527.post-59961306925364918772012-03-28T23:57:00.001+08:002012-03-28T23:57:53.248+08:00Trees by Joyce KilmerI think that I shall never see <br />A poem lovely as a tree. <br /> <br />A tree whose hungry mouth is prest <br />Against the sweet earth's flowing breast; <br /> <br />A tree that looks at God all day,<br />And lifts her leafy arms to pray; <br /> <br />A tree that may in summer wear <br />A nest of robins in her hair; <br /> <br />Upon whose bosom snow has lain; <br />Who intimately lives with rain. <br /> <br />Poems are made by fools like me, <br />But only God can make a tree.Danielle Zhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15145469978124938940noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1516926840168403527.post-50177855088208692672012-03-28T23:17:00.001+08:002012-03-28T23:17:51.944+08:00Days by Billy CollinsEach one is a gift, no doubt,<br />mysteriously placed in your waking hand<br />or set upon your forehead<br />moments before you open your eyes.<br /><br />Today begins cold and bright,<br />the ground heavy with snow<br />and the thick masonry of ice,<br />the sun glinting off the turrets of clouds.<br /><br />Through the calm eye of the window<br />everything is in its place<br />but so precariously<br />this day might be resting somehow<br /><br />on the one before it,<br />all the days of the past stacked high<br />like the impossible tower of dishes<br />entertainers used to build on stage.<br /><br />No wonder you find yourself<br />perched on the top of a tall ladder<br />hoping to add one more.<br />Just another Wednesday,<br /><br />you whisper,<br />then holding your breath,<br />place this cup on yesterday's saucer<br />without the slightest clink.Danielle Zhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15145469978124938940noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1516926840168403527.post-58644357129824277492012-03-28T20:37:00.001+08:002012-03-28T20:38:24.358+08:00In Flanders Fields by John McCraeIn Flanders Fields the poppies blow <br />Between the crosses row on row, <br />That mark our place; and in the sky <br />The larks, still bravely singing, fly <br />Scarce heard amid the guns below.<br /><br />We are the Dead. Short days ago <br />We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow, <br />Loved and were loved, and now we lie <br />In Flanders fields.<br /><br />Take up our quarrel with the foe: <br />To you from failing hands we throw <br />The torch; be yours to hold it high. <br />If ye break faith with us who die <br />We shall not sleep, though poppies grow <br />In Flanders fields.Danielle Zhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15145469978124938940noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1516926840168403527.post-33069540727640326692012-03-28T20:35:00.002+08:002012-03-28T20:36:05.301+08:00Disillusionment of Ten O'Clock by Wallace StevensThe houses are haunted<br />By white night-gowns.<br />None are green,<br />Or purple with green rings,<br />Or green with yellow rings,<br />Or yellow with blue rings.<br />None of them are strange,<br />With socks of lace<br />And beaded ceintures.<br />People are not going<br />To dream of baboons and periwinkles.<br />Only, here and there, an old sailor,<br />Drunk and asleep in his boots,<br />Catches Tigers<br />In red weather.Danielle Zhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15145469978124938940noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1516926840168403527.post-41661218936490009292012-03-28T20:32:00.001+08:002012-03-28T20:34:52.669+08:00Home-Thoughts, from Abroad by Robert BrowningOh, to be in England<br />Now that April's there,<br />And whoever wakes in England<br />Sees, some morning, unaware,<br />That the lowest boughs and the brushwood sheaf<br />Round the elm-tree bole are in tiny leaf,<br />While the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough<br />In England—now!<br /><br /> And after April, when May follows,<br />And the whitethroat builds, and all the swallows!<br />Hark, where my blossomed pear-tree in the hedge<br />Leans to the field and scatters on the clover<br />Blossoms and dewdrops—at the bent spray's edge—<br />That's the wise thrush; he sings each song twice over,<br />Lest you should think he never could recapture<br />The first fine careless rapture!<br />And though the fields look rough with hoary dew,<br />All will be gay when noontide wakes anew<br />The buttercups, the little children's dower<br />—Far brighter than this gaudy melon-flower!Danielle Zhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15145469978124938940noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1516926840168403527.post-17007722128647370562012-03-28T20:29:00.000+08:002012-03-28T20:30:47.276+08:00maggie and milly and molly and may by e.e. cummingsmaggie and milly and molly and may <br />went down to the beach(to play one day)<br /><br />and maggie discovered a shell that sang <br />so sweetly she couldn't remember her troubles,and<br /><br />milly befriended a stranded star<br />whose rays five languid fingers were;<br /><br />and molly was chased by a horrible thing <br />which raced sideways while blowing bubbles:and<br /><br />may came home with a smooth round stone <br />as small as a world and as large as alone.<br /><br />For whatever we lose(like a you or a me) <br />it's always ourselves we find in the seaDanielle Zhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15145469978124938940noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1516926840168403527.post-41827663363830419522012-03-28T20:27:00.000+08:002012-03-28T20:29:33.686+08:00This Englishwoman by Stevie SmithThis Englishwoman is so refined<br />She has no bosom and no behind.Danielle Zhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15145469978124938940noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1516926840168403527.post-53292993979963524982012-03-28T20:25:00.000+08:002012-03-28T20:27:20.649+08:00From Whom The Bell Tolls by John Donne"No man is an island, entire of itself; <br />every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main. <br />If a clod be washed away by the sea,<br />Europe is the less, <br />as well as if a promontory were, <br />as well as if a manor of thy friend's <br />or of thine own were: <br />any man's death diminishes me, <br />because I am involved in mankind, <br />and therefore never send to know <br />for whom the bells tolls; it tolls for thee."<br /><br />/from<br />Devotions upon Emergent Occasions, no. 17<br />(Meditation)<br />1624 (published)Danielle Zhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15145469978124938940noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1516926840168403527.post-15463689372726991432012-03-28T20:22:00.000+08:002012-03-28T20:23:36.465+08:00Not Waving But Drowning by Stevie SmithNobody heard him, the dead man, <br />But still he lay moaning:<br />I was much further out than you thought <br />And not waving but drowning.<br /><br />Poor chap, he always loved larking<br />And now he’s dead<br />It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way, <br />They said.<br /><br />Oh, no no no, it was too cold always <br />(Still the dead one lay moaning) <br />I was much too far out all my life <br />And not waving but drowning.Danielle Zhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15145469978124938940noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1516926840168403527.post-5559121269673413752012-03-28T20:21:00.001+08:002012-03-28T20:21:54.070+08:00The Arrow and the Song by Henry Wadsworth LongfellowI shot an arrow into the air,<br />It fell to earth, I knew not where;<br />For, so swiftly it flew, the sight<br />Could not follow it in its flight.<br /><br />I breathed a song into the air,<br />It fell to earth, I knew not where;<br />For who has sight so keen and strong,<br />That it can follow the flight of song?<br /><br />Long, long afterward, in an oak<br />I found the arrow, still unbroke;<br />And the song, from beginning to end,<br />I found again in the heart of a friend.Danielle Zhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15145469978124938940noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1516926840168403527.post-58214594851910939892012-03-28T20:19:00.001+08:002012-03-28T20:20:19.807+08:00Lines by Martha CollinsDraw a line. Write a line. There.<br />Stay in line, hold the line, a glance<br />between the lines is fine but don't<br />turn corners, cross, cut in, go over<br />or out, between two points of no<br />return's a line of flight, between<br />two points of view's a line of vision.<br />But a line of thought is rarely<br />straight, an open line's no party<br />line, however fine your point.<br />A line of fire communicates, but drop<br />your weapons and drop your line,<br />consider the shortest distance from x<br />to y, let x be me, let y be you.Danielle Zhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15145469978124938940noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1516926840168403527.post-11577054755870181982012-03-28T20:18:00.000+08:002012-03-28T20:19:11.454+08:00Fire and Ice by Robert FrostSome say the world will end in fire,<br />Some say in ice.<br />From what I've tasted of desire<br />I hold with those who favor fire.<br />But if it had to perish twice,<br />I think I know enough of hate<br />To say that for destruction ice<br />Is also great<br />And would suffice.Danielle Zhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15145469978124938940noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1516926840168403527.post-10648002993912250672011-12-07T10:04:00.000+08:002011-12-07T10:05:32.655+08:00Make Me by Tanya ColleyI am a glowing star, make me the silver planet,<br /><br />I am a dirty rag, make me the red carpet,<br /><br />I am a piece of mattress, make me the four-poster bed,<br /><br />I am a tiny match, make me the raging fire,<br /><br />I am a hot light bulb, make me the flaming sun,<br /><br />I am a flake of snow, make me the snow queen,<br /><br />I am a clear raindrop, make me the colour-filled rainbow,<br /><br />I am a shivering small girl, make me the powerful giant.Danielle Zhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15145469978124938940noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1516926840168403527.post-2466737777526920162011-12-07T10:02:00.000+08:002011-12-07T10:03:53.726+08:00You Can't Be That by Brian Patten<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(85, 69, 54); font-family: 'Book Antiqua', Palatino, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">I told them</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(85, 69, 54); font-family: 'Book Antiqua', Palatino, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">When I grow up</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(85, 69, 54); font-family: 'Book Antiqua', Palatino, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">I'm not going to be a scientist</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(85, 69, 54); font-family: 'Book Antiqua', Palatino, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">Or someone who reads the news on TV</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(85, 69, 54); font-family: 'Book Antiqua', Palatino, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">No, a million birds will fly through me.</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(85, 69, 54); font-family: 'Book Antiqua', Palatino, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">I AM GOING TO BE A TREE!</span><br /><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(85, 69, 54); font-family: 'Book Antiqua', Palatino, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">They said,</span><br /><span style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; color: rgb(85, 69, 54); font-family: 'Book Antiqua', Palatino, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-style: italic; ">You can't be that. No, you can't be that.</span><br /><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(85, 69, 54); font-family: 'Book Antiqua', Palatino, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">I told them</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(85, 69, 54); font-family: 'Book Antiqua', Palatino, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">When I grow up</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(85, 69, 54); font-family: 'Book Antiqua', Palatino, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">I'm not going to be an airline pilot,</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(85, 69, 54); font-family: 'Book Antiqua', Palatino, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">A dancer, a lawyer or an MC.</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(85, 69, 54); font-family: 'Book Antiqua', Palatino, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">No, huge whales will swim in me.</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(85, 69, 54); font-family: 'Book Antiqua', Palatino, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">I AM GOING TO BE AN OCEAN!</span><br /><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(85, 69, 54); font-family: 'Book Antiqua', Palatino, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">They said,</span><br /><span style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; color: rgb(85, 69, 54); font-family: 'Book Antiqua', Palatino, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-style: italic; ">You can't be that. No, you can't be that.<br /><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(85, 69, 54); font-family: 'Book Antiqua', Palatino, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">I told them:</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(85, 69, 54); font-family: 'Book Antiqua', Palatino, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">I am not going to be a DJ,</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(85, 69, 54); font-family: 'Book Antiqua', Palatino, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">A computer programmer, a musician or a beautician</span><span style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; color: rgb(85, 69, 54); font-family: 'Book Antiqua', Palatino, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-style: italic; ">.<br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(85, 69, 54); font-family: 'Book Antiqua', Palatino, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">No, streams will flow through me, I'll be the home of the eagles;</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(85, 69, 54); font-family: 'Book Antiqua', Palatino, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">I'll be full of nooks, crannies, valleys and fountains.</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(85, 69, 54); font-family: 'Book Antiqua', Palatino, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">I AM GOING TO BE A RANGE OF MOUNTAINS!</span><br /><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(85, 69, 54); font-family: 'Book Antiqua', Palatino, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">They said,</span><br /><span style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; color: rgb(85, 69, 54); font-family: 'Book Antiqua', Palatino, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-style: italic; ">You can't be that. No, you can't be that.<br /><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(85, 69, 54); font-family: 'Book Antiqua', Palatino, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">I asked them:</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(85, 69, 54); font-family: 'Book Antiqua', Palatino, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">Just what do you think I am?</span><span style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; color: rgb(85, 69, 54); font-family: 'Book Antiqua', Palatino, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-style: italic; "><br />Just a child, </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(85, 69, 54); font-family: 'Book Antiqua', Palatino, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">they said,</span><span style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; color: rgb(85, 69, 54); font-family: 'Book Antiqua', Palatino, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-style: italic; "><br />And children always become<br />At least one of the things<br />We want them to be.<br /><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(85, 69, 54); font-family: 'Book Antiqua', Palatino, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">They do not understand me.</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(85, 69, 54); font-family: 'Book Antiqua', Palatino, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">I'll be a stable if I want, smelling of fresh hay,</span><span style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; color: rgb(85, 69, 54); font-family: 'Book Antiqua', Palatino, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); font-style: italic; "><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(85, 69, 54); font-family: 'Book Antiqua', Palatino, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">I'll be a lost glade in which unicorns still play.</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(85, 69, 54); font-family: 'Book Antiqua', Palatino, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">They do not realise I can fulfil any ambition.</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(85, 69, 54); font-family: 'Book Antiqua', Palatino, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">They do not realise that among them</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(85, 69, 54); font-family: 'Book Antiqua', Palatino, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">walks a magician.</span>Danielle Zhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15145469978124938940noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1516926840168403527.post-2667996252772314072011-12-07T10:01:00.001+08:002011-12-07T10:02:52.502+08:00Children's Song by R.S. ThomasWe live in our own world,<br />A world that is too small<br />For you to stoop and enter<br />Even on hands and knees,<br />The adult subterfuge.<br />And though you probe and pry<br />With analytic eye,<br />And eavesdrop all our talk<br />With an amused look,<br />You cannot find the centre<br />Where we dance, where we play,<br />Where life is still asleep<br />Under the closed flower,<br />Under the smooth shell<br />Of eggs in the cupped nest<br />That mock the faded blue<br />Of your remoter heaven.Danielle Zhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15145469978124938940noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1516926840168403527.post-90930374961344039022011-05-16T22:10:00.003+08:002011-05-16T22:13:47.695+08:00The Facebook Sonnet by Sherman AlexieWelcome to the endless high-school<br />Reunion. Welcome to past friends<br />And lovers, however kind or cruel.<br />Let's undervalue and unmend<br /><br />The present. Why can't we pretend<br />Every stage of life is the same?<br />Let's exhume, resume and extend<br />Childhood. Let's all play the games<br /><br />That preoccupy the young. Let fame<br />And shame intertwine. Let one's search<br />For God become public domain.<br />Let church.com become our church.<br /><br />Let's sign up, sign in and confess<br />Here at the altar of loneliness.Danielle Zhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15145469978124938940noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1516926840168403527.post-10088148468731264482011-02-17T09:36:00.009+08:002011-02-17T09:58:15.345+08:00Found poetryThis post puts together bits and pieces about how found poetry can be incorporated in the classroom.<br />Why?<br />1. Convenient, accessible way to generate poetry<br />2. Encourages wordplay, sensitivity to how a text is arranged<br />3. Brings literature out in the open (guerilla submission method - "found" poetry)<br /><br />--<br /><br />Classic example:<br /><br />This Is Just To Say<br /><br />I have eaten<br />the plums<br />that were in<br />the icebox<br />and which<br />you were probably<br />saving<br />for breakfast<br />Forgive me<br />they were delicious<br />so sweet<br />and so cold<br /><br /><br />William Carlos Williams<br /><br /><br />--<br /><br />Great contemporary example:<br /><br />The Unknown<br /><br />As we know,<br />There are known knowns.<br />There are things we know we know<br />We also know<br />There are known unknowns.<br />That is to say<br />We know there are some things<br />We do not know.<br />But there are also unknown unknowns,<br />The ones we don't know<br />We don't know.<br /><br />Hart Seely, <span style="font-style:italic;">Pieces of Intelligence: The Existential Poetry of Donald H. Rumsfeld </span><br /><br />--<br /><br />NYT Learning Network always provides teaching wisdom:<br /><a href=http://learning.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/04/05/student-challenge-new-york-times-found-poem/>Student Challenge: Create a Found Poem from the News</a><br /><a href=http://graphics8.nytimes.com/images/blogs/learning/pdf/2010/NCTEarticle.pdf>Article on Found & Headline Poems</a><br /><br />--<br /><br />Another way of generating poetry, this time using search engines to craft prose poetry paragraphs:<br /><br /><a href=http://www.poegles.com/history-of-poegles/what-is-a-poegle/>Poegles</a><br /><br />--<br /><br />Submission: Put it somewhere, guerilla-style.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iksk0FEOdc8/TVx8FS4gtxI/AAAAAAAAAME/3Freu9AbdGQ/s1600/639p.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iksk0FEOdc8/TVx8FS4gtxI/AAAAAAAAAME/3Freu9AbdGQ/s320/639p.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5574466869187884818" /></a><br /><center><a href=http://thingsweforget.blogspot.com>Things We Forget</a></center><br /><br /><br />Possible locations<br />- In a library book<br />- Under a chair or table<br />- At the back of the toilet cubicle door (captive audience)<br />- On the toilet mirror<br />- On a teacher's desk<br />- On a refrigerator<br />EtcDanielle Zhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15145469978124938940noreply@blogger.com0