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Poetry Portfolio

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BC: The End | Oh, I'm being eaten By a boa constrictor, A boa constrictor, A boa constrictor, I'm being eaten by a boa constrictor, And I don't like it--one bit. Well, what do you know? It's nibblin' my toe. Oh, gee, It's up to my knee. Oh my, It's up to my thigh. Oh, fiddle, It's up to my middle. Oh, heck, It's up to my neck. Oh, dread, It's upmmmmmmmmmmffffffffff . . . | Boa Constrictor Shel Silverstein

FC: My Poetry Portfolio | Caitlin Lee 5th period | THE TOUCAN Tell me who can Catch a toucan? Lou can. Just how few can Ride the toucan Two can. What kind of goo can Stick you to the toucan? Glue can. Who can write some more About the toucan. You can! -Shel Silverstein

1: Table of Contents | 1. Where I'm From 2. My Mother's Kitchen 3. Mother to Daughter 4. Ode to GSMST 5. Language Arts 6. Rhyme Scheme 7. Free Verse | Anteater "A genuine anteater," The pet man told me dad. Turned out, it was an aunt eater. And now my uncle's mad! -Shel Silverstein

3: I am from the white rice in my bowl, from Kikkoman soy sauce and ivory chopsticks I am from Chinese New Year meals and lai see I am from the dogwood tree in my backyard, from the dead rose bushes my uncle ran over I am from winter's apple cider and Young and Surelyne and Lee | I am from a family of meticulous details and glasses I am from a 64-box of crayons and Pokemon every Saturday morning I am from my mom's Catholicism and my grandma's Baptism I am from New Jersey and China, from relatives residing up North I am from countless boxes filled with family memories. | Where I'm From

5: My Mother's Kitchen | Pots and pans bumping loudly soup and broth bubbling proudly green beans boiling in water my mom working tirelessly with her daughter Cakes and cookies, oven hot dead and colorless, they are not pouring water, a gushing stream rouses your appetite, as in a dream Mincemeat pies on a tray you won’t be left in dismay White rice is always present This is a meal you won’t resent Scrape the bowl or wait ‘till later cheesy goodness from the grater Pinch the crust from the pie Touch my chocolate and you will die Friends together, no matter the weather amazingly yummy, all in my tummy A mother’s care, soft like a teddy bear the kitchen’s queen, now you clean

7: Daughter, do not forget, Never forget that you are only one voice, Never forget that you are only one person, A person who can make a difference, A voice trying to stand out from the crowd Daughter, always understand, Understand that when you fall, Understand that when you make mistakes, Understand that when all else fails, You will always have your mother to go back to Daughter, you have been told, Told that you cannot wish for dreams, Told that you have to work for those dreams, Told that fairytales is not reality, Hard work guarantees success Daughter, you know, You know that you are not too old for life to catch up to you, You know that you are too old for me to follow you, You know that you are too old for me to pick out your clothes, But you will never be too old for a hug Daughter, I know, I know that you want to see the world, I know that you want to make your own adventures, I know that you no longer want to listen to mine, But remember that you will be my child, and I, your mother | Mother To Daughter

8: GSMST, thou art the school of endless possibilities, You are no regular high school, You are filled with genius and analytical bodies, The bounds of your knowledge follow no rule, Your halls of learning are filled with mystique, The books you hold safely are filled with wisdom, Your students are the best of the best, The teachers you hire are somewhat antique, Your learning style encompasses all freedom, GSMST, your students know not of the word rest GSMST oh how you make me strive, Your challenging classes force me to learn, Not too early, I have to arrive, Good grades, I desire and yearn, The homework you supply us with, Requires hours and hours of relentless reflecting, From chemistry to physics to math, The truth of your curriculum is no myth, The unbeknownst learning the next day leaves me suspecting, I sometimes wonder if I took the right path | Ode to GSMST

9: GSMST, with your soon-to-be graduating class, You are still inexperienced and new, You have not had one graduating diploma passed, But wisdom does not always come with age, you knew, The way you teach and nourish our rarely feed brains, The preparation for state tests and exams, The testing of our newly found facts and skills, The need to never let our intelligence drain, You do not want our brilliancy to close like a clam, You give us the strength and courage of a ram. O’ GSMST, the teachers that wander your excellent halls, Are all but short of being perfect, Few teachers are years younger than they appear, I recall, Wrinkles and white hair are a result of unreachable verdicts, You contain students, who argue endlessly searching for answers, Debate team at your school is at its top, They dispute the charities of different cancers, GSMST, with your help, we will achieve, and do joyous hops

11: Language Arts | There was a woman from Turkey Language arts made her feel quirky Although she was sublime You cannot pay one dime To make her recite poetry

12: Green Underline: Parallelism Cyan: Repetition Red: Internal Rhyme

13: Oh, Ok, so to play Blue's clues... we gotta find a...Paw print! Right 'cause that's the first...Clue! Yeah! And then we put it in our notebook 'Cause they're Blue's clues... Blue's clues...... We gotta find another paw print... That's the second clue!We put it in our notebook 'cause they're who's clues? Blue's clues...We gotta find the last paw print,That's the third clue! We put it in our notebook 'cause they're Blue's clues! Blue's clues! You know what to do!Sit down in our thinking chair and think... think... thi-i-ink!Cause when we use our minds and take a step at a time,We can do any THING... that we wanna do! Ok... it's clue time! | Blues Clues Rhyme Scheme

14: Many things I might have said today. And I kept my mouth shut. So many times I was asked To come and say the same things Everybody was saying, no end To the yes-yes, yes-yes, me-too, me-too. The aprons of silence covered me. A wire and hatch held my tongue. I spit nails into an abyss and listened. I shut off the gable of Jones, Johnson, Smith, All whose names take pages in the city directory. I fixed up a padded cell and lugged it around. I locked myself in and nobody knew it. Only the keeper and the kept in the hoosegow Knew it--on the streets, in the post office, On the cars, into the railroad station Where the caller was calling, "All a-board, All a-board for . . . Blaa-blaa . . . Blaa-blaa, Blaa-blaa . . . and all points northwest . . .all a-board." Here I took along my own hoosegow And did business with my own thoughts. Do you see? It must be the aprons of silence. | Aprons of Silence Carl Sandburg

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  • By: Caitlin L.
  • Joined: over 6 years ago
  • Published Mixbooks: 1
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About This Mixbook

  • Title: Poetry Portfolio
  • :D None of these poems are about Ms. Glenn. :)
  • Tags: None
  • Published: over 6 years ago

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