Up to 50% Off + MORE! Code: TREAT Ends: 10/24 Details
  1. Help

My Poetry Portfolio

Hello, you either have JavaScript turned off or an old version of Adobe's Flash Player. Get the latest Flash player.

My Poetry Portfolio - Page Text Content

S: Jerry's Poetry Portfolio

FC: Jerry's Poetry Portfolio

1: TABLE OF CONTENTS Poetry Terms.........................................pg.2-4 TPCASTT Analysis of "Birches".....................pg.5-8 Original poems.......................................pg.9-10

2: Alexandrine An alexandrine line is a line of poetry that contains twelve syllables. The name probably comes from a medieval romance about Alexander the Great in twelve syllable lines. Example: When in English I speak, dictionary I keep.

3: Tanka A Japanese poem of five lines, the first and third composed of five syllables and the rest of seven. Hazy autumn moon the sound of chestnuts dropping from an empty sky I gather your belongings into boxes for the poor By: Margaret Chula

4: Sestet A sestet is a six line stanza. It usually refers to the second division of an Italian sonnet, which is a poem that contains 14 lines. Waste Not By: Anonymous A waste of time to play a mindless game, Life is too short to spend it being sad About things which will always be the same; Far better to spend time in being glad. Avoid the things that only bring you down, Much easier to smile than wear a frown.

5: TPCASTT "Birches" By: Robert Frost When I see birches bend to left and right Across the lines of straighter darker trees, I like to think some boy's been swinging them. But swinging doesn't bend them down to stay. Ice-storms do that. Often you must have seen them Loaded with ice a sunny winter morning After a rain. They click upon themselves As the breeze rises, and turn many-colored As the stir cracks and crazes their enamel. Soon the sun's warmth makes them shed crystal shells Shattering and avalanching on the snow-crust-- Such heaps of broken glass to sweep away You'd think the inner dome of heaven had fallen. They are dragged to the withered bracken by the load, And they seem not to break; though once they are bowed So low for long, they never right themselves: You may see their trunks arching in the woods Years afterwards, trailing their leaves on the ground Like girls on hands and knees that throw their hair Before them over their heads to dry in the sun. But I was going to say when Truth broke in With all her matter-of-fact about the ice-storm (Now am I free to be poetical?) I should prefer to have some boy bend them As he went out and in to fetch the cows-- Some boy too far from town to learn baseball, Whose only play was what he found himself, Summer or winter, and could play alone. One by one he subdued his father's trees By riding them down over and over again Until he took the stiffness out of them, And not one but hung limp, not one was left For him to conquer. He learned all there was To learn about not launching out too soon And so not carrying the tree away

6: Clear to the ground. He always kept his poise To the top branches, climbing carefully With the same pains you use to fill a cup Up to the brim, and even above the brim. Then he flung outward, feet first, with a swish, Kicking his way down through the air to the ground. So was I once myself a swinger of birches. And so I dream of going back to be. It's when I'm weary of considerations, And life is too much like a pathless wood Where your face burns and tickles with the cobwebs Broken across it, and one eye is weeping From a twig's having lashed across it open. I'd like to get away from earth awhile And then come back to it and begin over. May no fate willfully misunderstand me And half grant what I wish and snatch me away Not to return. Earth's the right place for love: I don't know where it's likely to go better. I'd like to go by climbing a birch tree, And climb black branches up a snow-white trunk Toward heaven, till the tree could bear no more, But dipped its top and set me down again. That would be good both going and coming back. One could do worse than be a swinger of birches.

7: T: This poem could be about birches or trees P: First, the speaker is looking at birches and how they are bent. He wishes they were bent because a boy was swinging on them. He talks about the boy's ability to swing on trees. He wants to start swinging again, but cannot because he is always busy. He wants to get away and be carefree again by climbing up the birch tree. C: There was a LOT of symbolism in this poem. The birch trees represent a carefree childhood. The dark tres next to the birch trees represent a life full of worries, which is sometimes referred to as "adulthood". The ice storms that bent the trees are the negative effects of worries and such. The twig lashing the eye of the speaker is hardship and the weeping that comes after is dealing with the hardship. The ways the birch trees are bent are also important. The trees bent by the ice storms are the lives made boring and troublesome, however the trees bent by the swinging of boys are the lives impacted by good memories and bad things.

8: The last sentence in the poem, "One could do worse than be a swinger of birches," also has a great meaning. I think that being a "swinger of birches" means to have lived a happy and fulfilling life and therefore, one could live a worse life than that of a swinger of birches. A: Frost's attitude towards the birches is longing and nostalgia. S: Frost goes from describing the birches to talking about how much he wants to become a swinger of birches again. T: I think the theme of this poem is that people should savor their childhoods while they are still carefree. T: Now I know that the title "Birches" represents a happy and carefree childhood and life. | asdf

9: Ode to the Sun O great Sun, sovereign of the day Out in space where you lay Giver of life to creatures of the Earth A star of very wide girth One whose radiance illuminates the bright blue sky of our world and whose flares beautifully twirl The center of our solar system Upon which 9 planets revolve in strict rhythm A celestial being, producer of light Able to break through any plight

10: When I Woke Up... By: Jerry Sun This morning, I rolled around in bed for a while Laying on my lumpy mattress in a pile I wished I could make the work day up I looked around for my coffee cup Rummaging around for my keys Displaying my unease Getting in my car However, I turned around right away Upon remembering today is Saturday.

Sizes: mini|medium|large|gargantuous
Default User
  • By: Jerry
  • Joined: over 7 years ago
  • Published Mixbooks: 1
No contributors

About This Mixbook

  • Title: My Poetry Portfolio
  • Tags: None
  • Published: over 7 years ago

Get up to 50% off
Your first order

Get up to 50% off
Your first order