advantages of poem

YEAR 12 POETRY Preparing for Achievement Standard 90378 (2.4) assessed in the external exams through an essay and worth 3 credits. Read it Say it out loud Talk about it Study it Think about it listen to it Write about it Enjoy it [e-mail] CONTENTS Introduction to the achievement standard How to approach a poem p3 How to annotate a poem p4 Writing about style and language p5 Sample NCEA questions with criteria p6 Poems from New Zealand Tihei Mauriora p8 Bred in South Auckland p9 Race Relations p10 Poems from the Pacific Fings da kirls should know p11 My Dog p12 Wild Dogs under my skirt p13 A Book and a Pen p14 You, the Choice of my Parents p15 Poems from other cultures Island man p16 Half-caste p17 Search for my Tongue p18 Presents from my aunt in Pakistan p19 What were they like 20 APPROACHING A POEM Dont worry a poem is not a puzzle that must be deciphered completely before you get the right answer. A poet spends a lot of time choosing exactly the best words for her/his poem. You may not understand them all or be able to see why they were chosen. That doesnt mean you cannot understand the idea that the poet is trying to share. And some poems you may be asked to read are written by and for people who have a lot more experience of life than you do at the moment. You can enjoy and understand parts of a poem without fully grasping it all. Always read a poem lots of times. And try to read it aloud. The first poetry was meant to be spoken aloud or read aloud, just like childrens poems and stories. And read to the punctuation. Often an idea is not contained in each separate line. Decide what you think the poem is generally about. There may be a simple surface meaning and a deeper one too. Do this before you begin to look at the way the poet has chosen words and images, has used figures of speech and layout, to deliver that meaning. Sometimes the title can hint at the theme of a poem. Look at the poem in more detail. Always ask yourself why the poet chose those particular words. Often you will be asked questions that guide you towards particular things like figures of speech (simile, metaphor, sound devices), parts of speech (nouns, verbs, adjectives), pattern (rhythm, rhyme, sentence structure). At this level it is important that you are able to recognise and name the devices used, but much more important that you can comment on their effect in terms of the poem as a whole. Respond. Think about why you enjoyed the poem. Was it humnorous Was it relevant to your life Poems mean different things to different people. Your personal response may be different from your classmates but it is just as valid. Dont worry. Relax and enjoy as much poetry as you can. Read some for pleasure. Annotating a poem A useful way to understand and appreciate a poem is to place a copy of it in the middle of a sheet of paper and annotate your ideas around it Read the poem aloud if possible or alternatively listen to someone else read it. Read the poem to yourself several more times as you get confident with is vocabulary, rhythm and flow. Using a quality dictionary, look up the meaning of any words you are unsure of. Annotate these definitions. A dictionary often gives several meanings for a word so you need to pick the meaning that fits the poem. Look for the subject the poets attitude towards the subject, often revealed as tone the theme. Then look for images created by use of figures of speech perhaps effective words (diction, vocabulary) patterns like sentence structure, verses, rhyme Then ask yourself What do I think about the poem and its ideas Here is one of the poems from this booklet it has been annotated for you. Island Man by Grace Nichols Island Man (for a Caribbean island man in London who still wakes up to the sound of the sea) Morning and island man wakes up to the sound of blue surf in his head the steady breaking and wombing wild seabirds and fishermen pushing out to sea the sun surfacing defiantly from the ease of his small emerald island he always comes back groggily groggily Comes back to sands of a grey metallic soar to surge of wheels to dull North Circular roar muffling muffling his crumpled pillow waves island man heaves himself Another London day Writing about style and language The language and style in which poetry is written becomes compressed. The style and language of a text involves the words, sounds and images that struck you while you read. For example Tusiata Avias use of fob English stands out in My Dog and Fings da kirls should know. What is the poet trying to achieve with this non standard Enlgish there is a reason though it may not be obvious to you at first. Sound features like alliteration, assonance and onomatopoeia add realism to their effect, recreating the real environmental sounds of a situation. Figurative features like similes, metaphors and personification add a visual element, helping you to see the situation in a pictorial form known references are warped to parallel the situation. Narrative voice can either be first person voice ( with inclusive personal pronouns like we, us and our making the reader part of the story, ie on the authors side) or third person voice ( with exclusive personal pronouns like he, they and their making the reader view them as the enemy, letting the reader watch the story from a distance. The second person pronouns you, your can be used in an accusatory or angry way stressing the separation between the thoughts and feelings of the poet from the audience she is addressing or the situation she is describing. Common aspects of style are shown in the following examples TechniquesWild dogs under my skirtYou, the choice of my parentsAlliteration right round sting and swellweeping willows brown skin burstingpersonificationcold and lonely waterssimileslegs like octopus legs as sharp as dogs teetheyes shining like stars metaphorsknowing that once youve pushed offStrange family shoreline my face is maskedExclusive or inclusive personal pronounsI want my lovers their teethyour plans, your family tree I see myselfRepetitionmy legs I wantyourhyme.me no more ..along the shoreSample NCEA questions with criteria This standard tests your ability to write a response to at least two poems that shows an understanding of the ideas in the poems and the techniques used to communicate those ideas. Some of the questions will not suit poems as they are there to help students who have studied other sorts of short texts so you need to choose your question carefully. Your response needs to be written in the form of an essay with a clear structure An introduction that prepares the reader for the ideas that will be discussed and helps the writer remember their ideas and keep their response well structured. Three or four body paragraphs. A body paragraph has three distinct parts the opening statement with a brief explanation the text evidence and discussion of how the evidence supports the opening statement then, finally, the comment that reminds the reader why the idea is important to the question. A conclusion summarises key points of the essay and reminds the reader of the key words of the question. No new evidence from the text should be included at this point of the essay. NCEA questions tend to be of the following types ThemeExplain how the idea(s) or message(s) of the texts you studied were communicated to the reader. Discuss the similarities and/or differences in the way the theme(s) were revealed in the TWO texts you studied.Character-isationDescribe one of the main characters or personalities in each of the texts you studied and comment on their impact on the plot. Discuss how the characters or personalities were used to reveal the ideas in the texts you studied.Setting/ ContextComment on the ways the author(s) has developed the setting or mood of the texts you have studied. Describe how the situations in the texts that you have studied make them particularly interesting or relevant.StyleHow has the author(s) of the texts you studied made their language memorable (You should consider discussing setting, characterisation and/or style). Describe TWO aspects of the style used by the author(s) to make their writing more vivid and effective. Judgement statement from the Examiners Report 2007 for 90378 (2.4) Read, Study and analyse short written texts. This chart shows aspects typical for each grade. Not achievedAchievedMeritExcellenceToo much plot summary Lacking reference to the text or to detail Insufficiently linked to the question Did not cover all or part of the question Short (under 250 words) Simplistic list of techniques but no analysis of how or why they were used Description rather than analysis misinterpreted the question (or tried and failed to adapt a learned essay to the question). Able to discuss texts in a balanced way and provide quotes and / or evidence from those texts to support their discussion Understanding of what analyse means allowing candidates to write about specific techniques the author used and why they used them ability to decode the question, and address all its parts throughout the essay knowledge of basic techniques to address the how of the question ability to discuss the cause and effect associated with discussion of techniques use of key words keeping them on track expanded responses to fully analyse the how and why Quotation and detail is used to reinforce points. Shows appreciation of and insight into theme and authors craft and purpose, as well as the specifics of the question. Presented own position as a reader of the text. Convincing analysis will offer conclusions and draw inferences abut writers purpose and readers positioning. Showed an awareness of the authors craft, with exploration of this often woven into the essay As for Merit plus Presented insightful analysis Offered conclusions and drew inferences about the authors purpose. In the course of evaluation may move beyond the text and possibly go beyond the text in doing this. Showed an appreciation of how the authors used language and other techniques to manipulate reader responses Demonstrated an established position as a reader, demonstrating engagement with the texts either on a personal level and / or demonstrate an awareness of the social setting and how readers of the time would have responded. drew conclusions about elements of the texts studied, often moving to discussion of the whole text and / or beyond the text Tihei Mauriora by Henare Dewes (Maori) Strange thing happened today applied for a flat in Remuera got knocked back cause Im a maori Funny that Hell, I cant even speak the lingo dont even know my maoritanga whatever that is. Once I spoke Maori but the teacher strapped me and made me learn pakeha so hard and respect pakeha so hard and be like a pakeha so hard, Im real good at it now got papers to prove it too Yet I still couldnt get this flat Cause Im a maori Funny that I shouldve bowled that landlord but Id have gone to Paremoremo bugger that thats where lotsve maoris go. Funny that Id go back to my marae if I knew where it was and prove Im not an Uncle Tom Aue I wish those pakehas would make their minds up about who I belong to thats the worse of being half n half, the pakeha half is always getting the maori half in trouble funny that In my next reincarnation Im coming back as a full blooded maori, thatll scare the tutai out of all those pakeha statisticians. Im going to Ponsonby tomorrow gonna get another flat, this time, Im gonna be a Samoan Tihei Mauriora whatever that means. First reactions to this poem Bred in South Auckland by Glenn Colquehoun (pakeha) I drive a car that is falling apart. There is bog in the body. There is rust in the doors. Occasionally it does not have a warrant. Sometimes I sleep in large rooms full of people. I eat too much fried bread. I am late to meetings. I go to housie My nose is flat. I say Raw-tore- loo-uh. Some people think I am a bloody Maori. I have been to university. I have a student loan. I photocopy my tax returns. Most mornings I read the newspaper. I make lists of things I have to do and like to cross them off. I cut apples into quarters before I eat them Then I cut the pips out. I put my name on things. I listen to talkback radio. I use EFTPOS. Some people think I am a typical pakeha. Last week I drove through a red light, I did not slow down at a compulsory stop, I changed lanes on the motorway and did not use my indicator When I was a boy I went to see Enter the Dragon, I took one lesson in kung fu. My parents made me do my homework. My brother gave me Chinese burns. I like beef and pork flavoured two minute noodles. I light incense when the house smells. Once I dug a garden. Some people think I am a blasted asian. When I was a boy I learnt to swear in Samoan, I went to school in Mangere. I played rugby in bare feet, Sometimes I shop at the Otara markets. My family come from overseas. I used to work in a factory. Once I helped to cook an umu. When it is summer I wear a lavalava. I drink pineapple juice. I like to eat corned beef. Some people think I must be a flaming coconut. I think I am the luckiest mongrel I know. First reactions to this poem Race Relations by Glenn Colquhoun My great great grandfather was from Luss. This is a village on the shores of Loch Lomond. My parents hang his coat of arms on their wall. My great great grandmother was a Murray She lived in Glasgow, by the Clyde. I dont know if their families fought but I wouldnt be surprised. Some Murrays live Whangape. I guess we are related except that I am Pakeha and they are part Te Rarawa. Somewhere along the line I have managed to colonise myself. It is not the first time this has happened. My grandmothers grandfather is from England. This has been a problem for the Scots. I cant forget what I did to myself at Culloden. Or what Edward Longshanks did to William Wallace in Braveheart. I still hate the bastard which of course I am. And if thats not bad enough my grandmothers grandmother is German. And so is my grandmotherss mum. One half of me has lost a war the other half has won. Even more complicated is the fact that my mothers fathers family are Jacobs which if Im not mistaken makes us Jewish, Who of course wont speak to the Germans. No one mentions they were from Tasmania. Sometimes I dont know how to live with myself. I am a civil war. The australians fight the english and keep the scottish happy. The scottish fight the english and then they fight themselves. The english are offended and wont speak to the germans. This annoys the germans who of course annoy the jews. The pakeha think they own the place. The maori want us all to go home. I would if I knew where that was. Sometimes it seems Ill never win. Sometimes I never lose.  First reactions to this poem Fings da kirls should know by Tusiata Avia (Samoa) Don hang your panty outside. Don forget to wash your panty in da shower Otherwise da ants will come an eat da dirty. Don use da same towel as da boy. Don comb your hair in da night-time. Don wear your hair out. Don show your shoulder. Don wear da trouser except in da town. Don swim on da Sunday. Don play on da Sunday. Better you don do nuffing on da Sunday Just go to da church, stay home and go to sleep. Don sleep in da lavalava only. Don sleep by yourself. Don walk by yourself especially in da dark. Don forget to cover da mirror in da night time. Don answer back. Don be da show off. Don kaukalaikiki. Don fiapoko. Don kafaovale don muck around. Don make da frien wif da boy. Don make da bad fing wif da boy. Don drink or smoke or go to da night club. Ua e loa I said, don you drink or smoke or go to da night club Remember, kirls, obey your parents, den you will love long in da land. First reactions to this poem My Dog by Tusiata Avia My dog name is Bingo. All da dog name is Bingo. Bingo is da bad dog. He bite da Palagi man on da foot. Aunty Fale throw da big stone to Bing and make da sore on Bingos leg. Now Bingo walk on da 3 leg. The Palagi mans hes stay at our house now and everybody is very happy specially Aunty Fale who is showing to all the peoples of our village how we have da Palagi. Now Bingo no more sleep under da table because Aunty Fale say hes stink and no good for da Palagi to smell da stink smell. Bingo he sleep outside and eat da stone. Only feed Bingo da stone everytime. We call BingoBingoBingo And throw da stone to him And laugh HaHaHa And da Palagi man shout to us You kids stop throwing stones at the dogs And Aunty Fale call us shit and pig and chase us with da broom and hit us hardhard on da leg and catch pela by da hair and shake her hard til Pelas hair coming out in Fales hand and Pela is cryingscreaming. We call BingoBingoBingo and Bingo come runningrunning and lick our sore. And grinning. First reactions to this poem Wild Dogs under my skirt by Tusiata Avia I want to tattoo my legs not blue or green but black I want to sit opposite the tufuga and know he means me pain I want him to bring out his chisel and hammer and strike my thighs the whole circumference of them like walking right round the world like paddling across the whole Pacific in a log knowing that once youve pushed off loaded the dogs on board theres no looking back now, Bingo. I want my legs as sharp as dogs teeth wild dogs wild Samoan dogs the mangy kind that bite strangers. I want my legs like octopus black octopus that catch rats and eat them I even want my legs like centipedes the black ones that sting and swell for weeks. And when its done I want the tufuga to sit back and know theyre not his they never were. I want to frighten my lovers let them sit across from me and whistle through their teeth. First reactions to this poem A BOOK AND A PEN by Vaine Rasmussen (Cook Islands) When I was young They gave me a book and a pen, A set rule and a calculator to play with, Test tubes and bunsen burners To experiment with And then a piece of paper That said Academically qualified to matriculate at any University. When I was at University They gave me another book and pen, Marxs theories and Solzhenitsyns literature To debate, discuss and agree over, Political thought and administrative procedures To digest, Then another piece of paper Called a BA. When I came back. they gave me a job. I used books and pens, Letterheads and folders To fill up with trash. A paypacket to cash At Tamure or Tumunu. When I grew old They gave me a pee A legend, a song And a language to master. A dying culture I had lost In my search. And I grew up at last Realising I had missed a lot. First reactions to this poem You, the Choice of my Parents by Konai Helu Thaman (Tonga) You come clad in your fine mats and tapa cloth Your brown skin bursting with fresh perfumed oil And your eyes shining like stars in a clear night YOU, the choice of my parents. You will bring them wealth and fame With your Western-type education And second-hand car. Yet you do not know me, my prince Save that I am first born and have known no other man I fit your plans and schemes for the future. You cannot see the real me My face is masked with pretence and obedience And my smiles tell you that I care I have no other choice. The priest has left the altar now And the dancing has begun I see myself dying slowly to family and traditions Stripped of its will and carefree spirit, Naked on the cold and lonely waters Of a strange family shoreline Alienatedfrombelongingtruly I love as a mere act of duty My soul is far away Clinging to that familiar ironwood tree That heralds strangers To the land of my ancestors. I will bear you a son To prolong your family tree And fill the gaps in your geneology. But when my duties are fulfilled My spirit will return to the land of my birth Where you will find me no more Except for the weeping willows along the shore. First reactions to this poem Island Man by Grace Nichols (Caribbean) (for a Caribbean island man in London who still wakes up to the sound of the sea) Morning and island man wakes up to the sound of the blue surf in his head the steady breaking and wombing wild seabirds and fishermen push out to sea the sun surfacing defiantly from the east of his small emerald island he always comes back groggily groggily Comes back to sands of a grey metallic soar to surge of wheels to dull North Circular roar muffling muffling his crumpled pillow waves island man heaves himself Another London day First reactions to this poem Half-Caste John Agard (Caribbean) Excuse me standing on one leg Im half-caste Explain yuself wha yu mean when yu say half-caste yu mean when picasso mix red and green is a half-caste canvas/ explain yuself wha yu mean when yu say half-caste yu mean when light an shadow mix in de sky is a half-caste weather/ well in dat case england weather nearly always half-caste in fact some o dem cloud half-caste til dem overcast so spiteful dem dont want de sun pass ah rass/ explain yuself wha yu mean when yu say half-caste yu mean tchaikovsky sit down at dah piano an mix a black key wid a white key is a half-caste symphony/ Explain yuself wha yu mean Ah listening to yu wid de keen half of mih ear Ah looking at yu wid de keen half of my eye and when Im introduced to yu Im sure youll understand why I offer yu half-a-hand an when I sleep at night I close half-a-eye consequently when I dream I dream half-a-dream an when moon begin to glow I half-caste human being cast half-a-shadow but yu must come back tomorrow wid de whole of yu eye and de whole of yu ear an de whole of yu mind an I will tell yu de other half of my story  First reactions to this poem  Presents from my Aunts in PakistanThey sent me a salwar kameezpeacock-blue,and anotherglistening like an orange split open,embossed slippers, gold and blackpoints curling.Candy-striped glass banglessnapped, drew blood.Like at school, fashions changedin Pakistan -the salwar bottoms were broad and stiff,then narrow.My aunts chose an apple-green sari,silver-bordered for my teens. I tried each satin-silkentop -was alien in the sitting-room.I could never be as lovelyas those clothes -I longedfor denim and corduroy.My costume clung to meand I was aflame,I couldnt rise up out of its fire,half-English,unlike Aunt Jamila. I wanted my parentscamel-skin lamp -switching it on in my bedroom,to consider the crueltyand the transformationfrom camel to shade,marvel at the colourslike stained glass. My mother cherished herjewellery -Indian gold, dangling, filigree,But it was stolen from our car.The presents were radiant in my wardrobe.My aunts requested cardigansfrom Marks and Spencers. My salwar kameezdidnt impress the schoolfriendwho sat on my bed, asked to seemy weekend clothes.But often I admired the mirror-work,tried to glimpse myselfin the miniatureglass circles, recall the story how the three of ussailed to England.Prickly heat had me screaming on the way.I ended up in a cotIn my English grandmothers dining-room,found myself alone,playing with a tin-boat. I pictured mybirthplacefrom fifties photographs.When I was olderthere was conflict, a fractured landthrobbing through newsprint.Sometimes I saw Lahore -my aunts in shaded rooms,screened from male visitors,sorting presents,wrapping them in tissue. Or there were beggars,sweeper-girlsand I was there -of no fixed nationality,staring through fretworkat the Shalimar Gardens. First reactions to this poem  Search for My Tongue by Sujatta Bhatt You ask me what I meanby saying I have lost my tongue.I ask you, what would you doif you had two tongues in your mouth,and lost the first one, the mother tongue,and could not really know the other,the foreign tongue.You could not use them both togethereven if you thought that way.And if you lived in a place you had tospeak a foreign tongue,your mother tongue would rot,rot and die in your mouthuntil you had to spit it out.I thought I spit it outbut overnight while I dream, INCLUDEPICTURE http//www.bbc.co.uk/schools/gcsebitesize/img/en03001.gif MERGEFORMATINET (munay hutoo kay aakhee jeebh aakhee bhasha) INCLUDEPICTURE http//www.bbc.co.uk/schools/gcsebitesize/img/en03002.gif MERGEFORMATINET (may thoonky nakhi chay) INCLUDEPICTURE http//www.bbc.co.uk/schools/gcsebitesize/img/en03003.gif MERGEFORMATINET (parantoo rattray svupnama mari bhasha pachi aavay chay) INCLUDEPICTURE http//www.bbc.co.uk/schools/gcsebitesize/img/en03004.gif MERGEFORMATINET (foolnee jaim mari bhasha nmari jeebh) INCLUDEPICTURE http//www.bbc.co.uk/schools/gcsebitesize/img/en03005.gif MERGEFORMATINET (modhama kheelay chay) INCLUDEPICTURE http//www.bbc.co.uk/schools/gcsebitesize/img/en03006.gif MERGEFORMATINET (fullnee jaim mari bhasha mari jeebh) INCLUDEPICTURE http//www.bbc.co.uk/schools/gcsebitesize/img/en03007.gif MERGEFORMATINET (modhama pakay chay) it grows back, a stump of a shootgrows longer, grows moist, grows strong veins,it ties the other tongue in knots,the bud opens, the bud opens in my mouth,it pushes the other tongue aside.Everytime I think Ive forgotten,I think Ive lost the mother tongue,it blossoms out of my mouth. First reactions to this poem What were they like Denise Levertov (American writing about Vietnam) Did the people of Vietnam use lanterns of stone Did they hold ceremonies to reverence the opening of buds Were they inclined to quiet laughter Did they use bone and ivory, jade and silver for ornament Had they an epic poem Did they distinguish between speech and singing Sir, their light hearts turned to stone. It is not remembered whether in gardens stone lanterns illumined pleasant ways. Perhaps they gathered once to delight in blossom, but after the children were killed there were no more buds. Sir, laughter is bitter to the burned mouth. A dream ago, perhaps. Ornament is for joy. All the bones were charred. It is not remembered. Remember, most were peasants their life was in rice and bamboo. When peaceful clouds were reflected in the paddies and the water buffalo stepped surely along terraces, maybe fathers told their sons old tales. When bombs smashed those mirrors there was time only to scream. There is an echo yet of their speech which was like a song. It was reported that their singing resembled the flight of moths in moonlight. Who can say It is silent now. First reactions to this poem PAGE PAGE 20 Philippa Mulqueen 2008 Title has a dual meaning, the man belongs to both the Caribbean and British islands. Personification the poet has shown that morning always comes. Use of bright and dull colours show contrasting images of the two islands. The poet means the man always wakes up to his life in Britain. Use of repetition of sounds to indicate the limbo between sleep and being awake. A link is made between the waves of the sea in his dreams and the crumpled pillow of his reality. HpuJ-HW2hBZu.W2min)q)7NcgCHtSWlEG .laT0U,p l HD(A(i,yBtnHw fut02/DgeLtr LNZuqvk.SSE/LzlclwZygNrIAnrmk7AaA3QvU2dA4T.Ch G,KOSM4wi kR/oRiK Ye.Mt iCHjR-To2RkIA_WwoREP7 fH X/dRRUsFviRZZKpP)xYHsPG)/ykc ww-IvLL1FF9/VCm6hD3S_ShbOGb4R,p
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