FC: Paula's Poetry Album | By Paula L.
1: Table of Contents | Poetry Terms..................pg. 1-3 "Birches" and it's Analysis...pg. 4-6 Original Narative Poem........pg. 7 Original Ode Poem.............pg. 8
2: Poetry Terms | Caesura - a natural pause or break. Example: England - how I long for thee! | Literary
3: Circumlocution - the use of a longer phrasing in place of a possible shorter form of expression; a roundabout or indirect manner of writing or speaking. In literature,it is sometimes used for comic effect. Example: I have observed that within the time I substituted for your class, the class participated in behaviors that were most unruly and displeasing in general. Vs. Your class misbehaved when I substituted for you.
4: Oxymoron - putting two contradictory words together. Example: The girl thought that the picture was pretty ugly indeed. Received via email: Top 52 Oxymorons: 52. Honest Lawyer 51. Jumbo Shrimp 50. Act naturally 49. Found missing 48. Resident alien 47. Advanced BASIC 46. Genuine imitation 45. Airline Food 44. Good grief 43. Same difference 42. Almost exactly 41. Government organization 40. Sanitary landfill 39. Alone together 38. Legally drunk 37. Silent scream | 36. British fashion 35. Living dead 34. Small crowd 33. Business ethics 32. Soft rock 31. Butt Head 30. Military Intelligence 29. Software documentation 28. New York culture 27. New classic 26. Sweet sorrow 25. Childproof 24. "Now, then..." 23. Synthetic natural gas 22. Christian Scientists 21. Passive aggression 20. Taped live 19. Clearly misunderstood 18. Peace force 17. Extinct Life 16. Temporary tax | increase 15. Computer jock 16. Temporary tax increase 15. Computer jock 14. Plastic glasses 13. Terribly pleased 12. Computer security 11. Political science 10. Tight slacks 9. Definite maybe 8. Pretty ugly 7. Twelve-ounce pound cake 6. Diet ice cream 5. Rap music 4. Working vacation 3. Exact estimate 2. Religious tolerance 1. Microsoft Works
5: 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 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, | Robert Frost's "Birches"
6: But dipped its top and set me down again. 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. | T: I think that the poem will be about birch trees. P: The author sees bent birch trees and is sad because ice-storms damaged them. He describes how they got damaged. Then, he tells about how he wishes that they were bent because a boy was climbing on them and bending and swinging the limbs to launch himself into the air. Then he describes how a boy would go about doing this. Next, He says how he wishes to be as carefree as a boy, and only having to worry about getting dirty. Finally, he states that it would be nice to take a 'time-out' and restart life after he's had a break. C: Metaphor - "You'd think the inner dome of heaven had fallen." Frost is comparing cracked ice to the 'dome' of heaven. Metaphor - "And life is too much like a pathless wood..." This sounds like life is too hard to get through without a guide, and that Frost is more comforted at the thought of help than finding his own way through the danger and confusion. Simile - "Like girls on hands and knees that throw their hair before them over their heads to dry in the sun." He compares bent birches with leaves on the ground to gils' hair. Personification - "...till the tree could bear no more, but dipped its top and set me down again." He's giving the tree human-like qualities of sensing pain and being able to do something about it-set him down. The tree almost has a head. | TPCASTT Analysis
7: Personification - '...Truth broke in with all of her matter-of-fct about the ice-storm..." This passage presents Truth as a character, almost, and gives her ability to interrupt conversation and know facts. Onomatopoeia - "...feet first, with a swish..." 'Swish' is the sound it would normally make. Onomatopoeia - "They click upon themselves..." 'Click' is the sound it would normally make. Onomatopoeia - "The stir cracks and crazes their enamel..." 'Crack' is the sound it would normally make. A: Robert Frost is sad that the trees were damaged by the ice-storms. He wishes that it was 'worth it' because a boy had been having fun and climbing on them. He also thinks that life isn't perfect, but it's best for it to take place on Earth. S: At the beginning, there's a melancholy feeling, but when he describes the boy's fun, similar to his own, he's a little more upbeat because of remembering his own good times. At the end, he's more thoughtful and reflective. T: The theme is that life isn't perfect, and that it would be nice to take a break once in a while. However, we're pretty well off and ought to make the most of our lives. He relates his life to birches because usually, a birch tree can recover and flex when challenged or stressed, but when an ice-storm comes, sickness or trauma, it can't recover. We don't just bounce back from things like that. When he says, "One could do worse than be a swinger of birches," I think it means that by having fun in life, you're not hurting anything or anyone permanantly, like an ice-storm would. Nothing is damaged as a result of your being carefree. T: Now, I know that the title is about Robert Frost's life and how he'd like to be able to get over troubles, even though he can't.
8: Wandering Cat The kitten was frightened and traveled alone. He didn’t quite know if he had a home. He wandered through the construction rubble Not knowing when he’d come across trouble. Tired and hungry He was dragging his paws When he realized he was staring at claws. Re-energized, He tilted his head- looked up farther and farther, his stomach like lead. A bulldog he saw, and with it, a bone, Asleep and snoring in a small wooden home. | he was rather confused and about to object, but one glance upward was enough to reflect that this cat was tired, hungry, and cold. The big dog knew (as he was fairly old) to leave the cat be; let him nap as he pleased and together they’d live under the eaves. | Its fur looked so soft, so comforting and warm, if only he could climb up and sleep there ‘till morn. So he trekked and he clawed, ‘till what did he find? He had reached the top! What had he in mind? Only actions will tell what he did next; in the rough dog’s fur he made a small nest. With tiny, sharp paws, He kneaded some fur and then fell asleep with a contented purr. Yet, in the act of preparing for rest the bulldog felt paws and, to put it at best, | Original Narrative Poem
9: Ode to the Honey Bee O, busy bee, tirelessly serving your queen- what a loyal subject! “Ready, set, go!” you race to the meadow for the yellow pollen to bring to your colleagues for metamorphosis into honey. You are ever zipping to the field while quipping with your fellow workers about how silly the bumpy toad looks! | What a strange wonder! The honey that people plunder, is a necessity to those who make it. I wish to be like you, you’re quite the example to look to when I need to see endurance. | My admiration flows, and surely everyone knows that when you don’t like something, you make it fun. You who work without rest and do the job the very best should at least get a proper burial. | Original Ode Poem