Alexander+De+Lia


 * __Quote about Poetry__**

**"Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words." ** Poetry Quote by Robert Frost Famous American Poet (1874-1963)


 * __ODE to SPORTS__**

S-P-O-R-T-S This is the element that completes my life. The subject for my future career. The instrument that brings out the best competition in me. My passion.

__**Sonnet**__

__**"Raised by" Poem**__ Per Ms. Pahmahov, this poem doesn't have to be completed because I was not in class.

__**Choice Poem**__ I'm on my way to opening day To watch my favorite sports team play I know this will be our year To win it all and I'm going to cheer We got Roy, we got Cole, together they will make your batters go cold. Jimmy predicting 100 wins was very bold.

Most of the inspiration for my poetry comes from my love of sports. You will find the rhyming technique throughout most of my poetry. I chose to use the rhyming technique the most because it's the easiest for me to use to narrow down my word choices. You will see an AABBCC rhyming structure within my poetry.
 * __Statement About My Poetry__**

The poet I chose from poets.org is Mark Strand.
 * __Poets.org Poet__**


 * ** Eating Poetry ** |||| ||
 * by [|Mark Strand] ||
 * Ink runs from the corners of my mouth. There is no happiness like mine. I have been eating poetry. The librarian does not believe what she sees. Her eyes are sad and she walks with her hands in her dress. The poems are gone. The light is dim. The dogs are on the basement stairs and coming up. Their eyeballs roll, their blond legs burn like brush. The poor librarian begins to stamp her feet and weep. She does not understand. When I get on my knees and lick her hand, she screams. I am a new man. I snarl at her and bark. I romp with joy in the bookish dark. ||  ||
 * Ink runs from the corners of my mouth. There is no happiness like mine. I have been eating poetry. The librarian does not believe what she sees. Her eyes are sad and she walks with her hands in her dress. The poems are gone. The light is dim. The dogs are on the basement stairs and coming up. Their eyeballs roll, their blond legs burn like brush. The poor librarian begins to stamp her feet and weep. She does not understand. When I get on my knees and lick her hand, she screams. I am a new man. I snarl at her and bark. I romp with joy in the bookish dark. ||  ||

1. The reader, and what poetry means to the author. 2. Rhyme scheme, 10,7,7,10 3. Opposites (Happiness/sad) 4. The lines are pretty short 5. It sounds formal/ old fashioned. I think its easier to understand because I cant read new stuff. 6. Happy - There is happiness from the author about poetry and the libarian is upset because hes absorbing the poetry too fast. 7. The dogs on the basement stairs and coming up. It shows that its like a gloomy poem. 8. This poem seeks to show the happiness of poetry because the speaker shows how he like poetry and what it means to him.

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This poem seeks to show the happiness of poetry because the speaker shows how he like poetry and what it means to him. He shows this by showing specific details about his actions and how feels.

This is unrealistic – it means that he’s absorbing the books.

The librarian is not happy because the speaker is devouring books. However, the reader would expect that the librarian would be happy. This shows that the librarian should be happy that people are actually reading the books rather then no one reading the books.


 * From the Long Sad Party **


 * Someone was saying something about shadows covering the field, about how things pass, how one sleeps towards morning and the morning goes. Someone was saying how the wind dies down but comes back, how shells are the coffins of wind but the weather continues. It was a long night and someone said something about the moon shedding its white on the cold field, that there was nothing ahead but more of the same. Someone mentioned a city she had been in before the war, a room with two candles against a wall, someone dancing, someone watching. We began to believe the night would not end. Someone was saying the music was over and no one had noticed. Then someone said something about the planets, about the stars, how small they were, how far away. ||

1. The reader 2. One idea per sentence, short sentences with little breaks. 3. Opposites (morning/night), 4. The line lengths are pretty short. 5. The language of the poem is contemporary making it easier for the reader to understand. 6. The tone is sorrowful making the mood somber. 7. An image in the poem is shadows covering the field creating a sense of darkness. 8. The tone and imagery of the poem explain that its talking about life and death even though these words aren't mentioned in the poem.

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The tone and Imagery of the poem explain that its talking about life and death even though those words aren’t mentioned in the poem.


 * ** Man and Camel ** |||| ||
 * by [|Mark Strand] ||
 * On the eve of my fortieth birthday I sat on the porch having a smoke when out of the blue a man and a camel happened by. Neither uttered a sound at first, but as they drifted up the street and out of town the two of them began to sing. Yet what they sang is still a mystery to me— the words were indistinct and the tune too ornamental to recall. Into the desert they went and as they went their voices rose as one above the sifting sound of windblown sand. The wonder of their singing, its elusive blend of man and camel, seemed an ideal image for all uncommon couples. Was this the night that I had waited for so long? I wanted to believe it was, but just as they were vanishing, the man and camel ceased to sing, and galloped back to town. They stood before my porch, staring up at me with beady eyes, and said: "You ruined it. You ruined it forever." ||  ||
 * On the eve of my fortieth birthday I sat on the porch having a smoke when out of the blue a man and a camel happened by. Neither uttered a sound at first, but as they drifted up the street and out of town the two of them began to sing. Yet what they sang is still a mystery to me— the words were indistinct and the tune too ornamental to recall. Into the desert they went and as they went their voices rose as one above the sifting sound of windblown sand. The wonder of their singing, its elusive blend of man and camel, seemed an ideal image for all uncommon couples. Was this the night that I had waited for so long? I wanted to believe it was, but just as they were vanishing, the man and camel ceased to sing, and galloped back to town. They stood before my porch, staring up at me with beady eyes, and said: "You ruined it. You ruined it forever." ||  ||

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