Poetry assignment

HOMEWORK: POETRY ASSIGNMENT: THE COLLECTED POEMS OF YOU
Your marks for the Poetry unit of work will be derived from an assignment and from a short test.
The test will be in Week One of Term Four. To revise, simply read over the poetry documents you have already read in Term Three. The test will ask you for definitions of some of the words from our terminology list. You will be asked to respond to a poem, using some words from the terminology list. You will be asked to answer some short questions relating to metaphor, simile, rhyme scheme, and the rules of some fixed form poems. You will be asked to compose some poetry that follows specific rules.
Poetry assignment: present an anthology of your poetry written this term. In other words, type all the poems you've written this term and submit them for marking. Print them out, hand them in. Title your anthology 'The Collected Poems of '.
Your collection should contain the following (please note that 'extension students' refers to all 8F1 students and those aspiring to an 'A'):
One 'imitation' poem (also, write a paragraph naming the poem you have imitated and the ways in which you have imitated it - e.g. rhyme scheme, length, number of syllables per line etc.);
One 'response' poem (also, write a paragraph naming the poem you have responded to and describing how your poem responds to it - e.g. does it criticise the other poem? Does it agree or disagree with the argument or ideas in the other poem? Is it a sequel or a prequel to the other poem? Is it about the same topic? etc.);
A Shakespearean sonnet that follows all the rules of a Shakespearean sonnet. (Extension students must write in iambic pentameter. At the end of your poem, indicate which lines are not strictly in iambic pentameter.);
A villanelle that follows all the rules of a villanelle;
Free verse poem that is one page long (minimum of 30 lines). (Extension students must follow at least two rules [your choice] and write a short paragraph regarding the rules you have followed.);
Five haiku with your Japanese pseudonym (choose three of your haiku poems and write one paragraph for each of the three, so that you have a total of five haiku and a total of three paragraphs. In your paragraphs, discuss how you've followed the three rules of haiku);
Extension students only: write a sestina that follows all the rules of a sestina.

Extension students: Sestina A sestina is a poem consisting of 6 sestets and one tercet. Sestinas follows a specific rhyme scheme. The rhyme scheme is below:
ABCDEF FAEBDC CFDABE ECBFAD DEACFB BDFECA ECA
Easier to read:
ABCDEF
FAEBDC
CFDABE
ECBFAD
DEACFB
BDFECA
ECA
Remember that capital letters mean that each 'A' is the same word, each 'B' is the same word etc.
So, if line 'A' ends with the word 'night', each line 'A' must end with 'night'. If line 'B' ends with the word 'eat', each line 'B' must end with 'eat'.
If the rhyme scheme is unclear, read the examples below for clarification.
It really is as 'simple' as that! There are no other rules.
Here is one tip: do not get sucked into ending a phrase or sentence at the end of each line.
In the first stanza, your 'A' line might be:
He lifted it with all his might.
In the second stanza, your 'A' line might continue on from your 'F' line, end the sentence, and then begin a new sentence. Students often fall into the trap of thinking that they are not allowed to end a line in the middle of a sentence. For example, in the second stanza, your 'A' line might continue: what to do. He thought he might
You 'A' word may be 'might' but you can use the word in difference contexts (the word 'might' can mean 'strong' or the word 'might' can mean 'a possibility').
You will notice that Elizabeth Bishop does this in her sestina, quoted below.

The first sestina is by a familiar poet, Ezra Pound. This sestina is perhaps the most famous in the English language. It used to be, and perhaps is still, considered the best sestina in the English language.
It is a dramatic monologue, which means that a character is speaking all the words in the poem. That character is a medieval warlord. He is frustrated by a period of peace and he longs for the battles of war, which he loves so much. Ezra Pound said that a poem about such a thing cannot be all that important. What do you think?
Standards = flags
Destriers = war horses
Stour = conflict
Bawd = a female companion
Sestina: Altaforte by Ezra Pound

Loquitur: En Bertrans de Born. The scene in at his castle, Altaforte. "Papiols" is his jongleur.
"The Leopard," the device of Richard (Cúur de Lion).

I

Damn it all! All this our South stinks peace.
You whoreson dog, Papiols, come! Let's to music!
I have no life save when the swords clash.
But ah! when I see the standards gold, vair, purple, opposing
And the broad fields beneath them turn crimson,
Then howl I my heart nigh mad with rejoicing.

II

In hot summer have I great rejoicing
When the tempests kill the earth's foul peace,
And the lightnings from black heav'n flash crimson,
And the fierce thunders roar me their music
And the winds shriek through the clouds mad, opposing,
And through all the riven skies God's swords clash.

III

Hell grant soon we hear again the swords clash!
And the shrill neighs of destriers in battle rejoicing,
Spiked breast to spiked breast opposing!
Better one hour's stour than a year's peace
With fat boards, bawds, wine and frail music!
Bah! there's no wine like the blood's crimson!

IV

And I love to see the sun rise blood-crimson.
And I watch his spears through the dark clash
And it fills all my heart with rejoicing
And pries wide my mouth with fast music
When I see him so scorn and defy peace,
His lone might 'gainst all darkness opposing.

V

The man who fears war and squats opposing
My words for stour, hath no blood of crimson
But is fit only to rot in womanish peace
Far from where worth's won and the swords clash
For the death of such sluts I go rejoicing;
Yea, I fill all the air with my music.

VI

Papiols, Papiols, to the music!
There's no sound like to swords swords opposing,
No cry like the battle's rejoicing
When our elbows and swords drip the crimson
And our charges 'gainst "The Leopard's" rush clash.
May God damn for ever all who cry "Peace!"

VII

And let the music of the swords make them crimson!
Hell grant soon we hear again the swords clash!
Hell blot black for always the thought "Peace!"

In the next poem, you will notice that the tercet does not follow our rhyme scheme. That is because the poet is a professional who experiments frequently. We must strictly follow the rhyme scheme.
I strongly suggest that you listen to this poem being read aloud - much easier to 'get'. I provided a link on the website.
A Miracle for Breakfast, by Elizabeth Bishop
At six o'clock we were waiting for coffee, waiting for coffee and the charitable crumb that was going to be served from a certain balcony
--like kings of old, or like a miracle.
It was still dark. One foot of the sun steadied itself on a long ripple in the river.

The first ferry of the day had just crossed the river.
It was so cold we hoped that the coffee would be very hot, seeing that the sun was not going to warm us; and that the crumb would be a loaf each, buttered, by a miracle.
At seven a man stepped out on the balcony.

He stood for a minute alone on the balcony looking over our heads toward the river.
A servant handed him the makings of a miracle, consisting of one lone cup of coffee and one roll, which he proceeded to crumb, his head, so to speak, in the clouds--along with the sun.

Was the man crazy? What under the sun was he trying to do, up there on his balcony!
Each man received one rather hard crumb, which some flicked scornfully into the river, and, in a cup, one drop of the coffee.
Some of us stood around, waiting for the miracle.

I can tell what I saw next; it was not a miracle.
A beautiful villa stood in the sun and from its doors came the smell of hot coffee.
In front, a baroque white plaster balcony added by birds, who nest along the river,
--I saw it with one eye close to the crumb--

and galleries and marble chambers. My crumb my mansion, made for me by a miracle, through ages, by insects, birds, and the river working the stone. Every day, in the sun, at breakfast time I sit on my balcony with my feet up, and drink gallons of coffee.

We licked up the crumb and swallowed the coffee.
A window across the river caught the sun as if the miracle were working, on the wrong balcony.