Poetry Corner

Ms. Collins

MY FATHER’S Legacy of Hard WorkJordan Evans

This is an excellent paper. Ms. Collins

John Phillips Marquand once said, “ It is worthwhile for anyone to have behind him a few generations of honest hard-working ancestry.” That is one of the reasons I cherish my dad. He has exemplified what it is to be an honest, hard-working man, and he has inspired me through his actions and words.

My dad is a hard-worker. He is also not a quitter like most people who give up in life. He works hard to put food on our table.

My dad has never been fired from his job his whole life. When he was sixteen he wanted a car.His mom told him, “If you want a car you have to get a job.” The next day, he found a job, and he has been working there for twenty-three years now.

I want to become an man like my dad. I want to do something with my life. I would like to find a good job that I can stick with until I get a better one. I would like to get a good steady job that pays good money so I could start a new life.

As I get older , I am starting to think like my dad. I just want to become successful like my farther .When he started he was making six dollars an hour.Now he is making about thirty dollars now.

My farther is the person I admire because he is successful an that’s what I want to be--SUCCESSFUL!!!

Directions

1. Select insert Movies and Sound.

2. Select (Record Sound).

3. Using the microphone, read the poem next to the author’s picture.

4. You may also choose your own poem and/or picture to create a new slide.

I'm from red beans and rice, pizza,chicken,and catfish.

I'm from one mom, two dads, twelve aunts,and 103 cousins.

I'm from Mississippi, Woodmere,and Westwego.

I'm from “Boy sit your bad but down some were.” “You know what it is.”

I’m from fried chicken, crawfish, and “baked macaronis.”

I’m from Roca wear, Dickies, and Walkie Talkie products.

I’m from “Wild and Out” and fighting.

I’m from grandma’s, grandpa’s aunt’s, uncles, Ma, and Pa.

I’m from…… “Get inside boy.” “Get smacked if you want to.”

“I don’t play with no chirn.”

I’M FROM TURKEY NECKS WITH RICE SEASONED PIG’S FEET, AND BIG FRIED CAT FISH.

I’M FROM POETRY BOOKS, PLASTIC DOLLS, AND FAVORITE SONGS LIKE “LOVE ME FOR WHO I AM,” “REFLEECIONS,” AND “SHORTY”

I’M FROM LAKESIDE MALL, OAKWOOD MALL, JC

PENNY ALL THE WAY TO WAL-MART. I’MFROM GRANDMA, GRANDPA, MOTHER, DADDY,

SISTER, BROTHER, AUNTS, UNCLES, AND DUMB, CRAZY COUSINS, AND FRIENDS.

I’M FROM THAT PEBBLEWALK AKA WESTBANK HOOD, KENNER THE HEART OF THE HOOD

I’M FROM “GIRL DON’T GET ME STARTED” AND

“YOU BETTER GET AN EDUCATION.”

Henry Wadsworth LongfellowHenry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-

1882)             A PSALM OF LIFE       WHAT THE HEART OF THE

YOUNG MAN                    SAID TO THE PSALMIST

    TELL me not, in mournful numbers,

        Life is but an empty dream ! —     For the soul is dead that slumbers,         And things are not what they seem.

    Life is real !   Life is earnest!         And the grave is not its goal ;

    Dust thou art, to dust returnest,         Was not spoken of the soul.

Tupac ShakurThe Rose that Grew from

Concrete

Did 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. Written by Tupac Shakur (1971-1996)

Maya AngelouWhen You Come

  When you come to me, unbidden,Beckoning meTo long-ago rooms,Where memories lie. Offering me, as to a child, an attic,Gatherings of days too few.Baubles of stolen kisses.Trinkets of borrowed loves.Trunks of secret words, I CRY.

Paul VERLAINE (1844-1896) Chanson d'automneLes sanglots longs

Des violonsDe l'automneBlessent mon coeurD'une langueurMonotone.

Tout suffocantEt blême, quandSonne l'heure,Je me souviensDes jours anciensEt je pleure

Et je m'en vaisAu vent mauvaisQui m'emporteDeçà, delà,Pareil à laFeuille morte.

Fall Song

The long sobsOf the violinsOf autumnWound my heartWith a languorMonotonous. All suffocatingAnd pale whenThe hour strikesI rememberThe old daysAnd weep

And I go awayIn the ill windthat carries me offThis side and beyondLike theDead leaf.

Vicente Aleixandre, 1924-1927    ADOLESCENCIA       Vinieras y te fueras dulcemente,

de otro camino a otro camino. Verte, y ya otra vez no verte. Pasar por un puente a otro puente. —El pie breve, la luz vencida alegre—.       Muchacho que sería yo mirando aguas abajo la corriente, y en el espejo tu pasaje fluir, desvanecerse.

Maya AngelouThe Lesson   

I keep on dying again.Veins collapse, opening like the Small 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.  

Robert FrostStopping By Woods On A Snowy

Evening Whose woods these are I think I know.His house is in the village though;He will not see me stopping hereTo watch his woods fill up with snow.My little horse must think it queerTo stop without a farmhouse nearBetween the woods and frozen lakeThe darkest evening of the year.He gives his harness bells a shakeTo ask if there is some mistake.The only other sound's the sweepOf easy wind and downy flake.The woods are lovely, dark and deep.But I have promises to keep,And miles to go before I sleep,And miles to go before I sleep.

Langston HughesI, Too, Sing America

  by Langston Hughes

I, 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, "Eat in the kitchen," Then.

Besides, They'll see how beautiful I am And be ashamed--

I, too, am America

William ShakespeareCarpe Diem

  O mistress mine, where are you roaming? O stay and hear! your true-love's coming That can sing both high and low; Trip no further, pretty sweeting, Journey's end in lovers' meeting-- Every wise man's son doth know.

What is love? 'tis not hereafter; Present mirth hath present laughter; What's to come is still unsure: In delay there lies no plenty,-- Then come kiss me, Sweet and twenty, Youth's a stuff will not endure.

William Shakespeare

William Carlos WilliamsThe Red Wheelbarrow

William Carlos Williams

so much dependsupon a red wheelbarrow

glazed with rainwater

beside the whitechickens.

Langston HughesI've known rivers ancient as the world and

older than the flow of human blood in human veins.

My soul has grown deep like the rivers.

I bathed in the Euphrates when dawns were young. I built my hut near the Congo and it lulled me to sleep. I looked upon the Nile and raised the pyramids above it. I heard the singing of the Mississippi when Abe Lincoln went down to New Orleans, and I've seen its muddy bosom turn all golden in the sunset.

I've known rivers: Ancient, dusky rivers.

My soul has grown deep like the rivers.

Elizabeth Barrett BrowningXLIII. "How do I love thee? Let me count the

ways..."by Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1806-1861)How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.I love thee to the depth and breadth and heightMy soul can reach, when feeling out of sightFor the ends of Being and ideal Grace.I love thee to the level of everyday'sMost quiet need, by sun and candle-light.I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.I love thee with a passion put to useIn my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.I love thee with a love I seemed to loseWith my lost saints, --- I love thee with the breath,Smiles, tears, of all my life! --- and, if God choose,I shall but love thee better after death.

Langston HughesA Prayer in Spring

by: Robert Frost Oh, give us pleasure in the flowers today;

And give us not to think so far awayAs the uncertain harvest; keep us hereAll simply in the springing of the year.

Oh, gives us pleasure in the orchard white,Like nothing else by day, like ghosts by night;And make us happy in the happy bees,The swarm dilating round the perfect trees.

And make us happing in the darting birdTha suddenly above the bees is heard,The meteor that thrusts in with needle bill,And off a blossom in mid-air stands still.

For this is love and nothing else is love,The which it is reversed for God aboveTo sanctify to what far ends He will,But which it only needs that wee fulfill.

William Carlos WilliamsApril

  If you had come away with me

into another state we had been quiet together. But there the sun coming up out of the nothing beyond the lake was too low in the sky, there was too great a pushing against him, too much of sumac buds, pink in the head with the clear gum upon them, too many opening hearts of lilac leaves, too many, too many swollen limp poplar tassels on the bare branches! It was too strong in the air. I had no rest against that springtime! The pounding of the hoofs on the raw sods stayed with me half through the night. I awoke smiling but tired.

Shel SilversteinBear In There

from the book "A Light in the Attic" (1981)

There's a Polar BearIn our Frigidaire--He likes it 'cause it's cold in there.With his seat in the meatAnd his face in the fishAnd his big hairy pawsIn the buttery dish,He's nibbling the noodles,He's munching the rice,He's slurping the soda,He's licking the ice.And he lets out a roarIf you open the door.And it gives me a scareTo know he's in there--That Polary BearIn our Fridgitydaire.

Shel SilversteinThe Loser

from the book "Where the Sidewalk Ends" (1974)

Mama said I'd lose my headif it wasn't fastened on.Today I guess it wasn't'cause while playing with my cousinit fell off and rolled awayand now it's gone.

And I can't look for it'cause my eyes are in it,and I can't call to it'cause my mouth is on it(couldn't hear me anyway'cause my ears are on it),can't even think about it'cause my brain is in it.So I guess I'll sit downon this rockand rest for just a minute...