<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4534118923383499945</id><updated>2011-11-27T16:39:47.310-08:00</updated><category term='John Clare'/><category term='AQA anthology'/><category term='My Last Duchess'/><category term='Kid'/><category term='alliteration'/><category term='metaphor'/><category term='half rhyme'/><category term='Education for Leisure'/><category term='Inversnaid'/><category term='Tatamkhulu Afrika'/><category term='Robert Browning'/><category term='iambic pentameter'/><category term='Batman'/><category term='elegy'/><category term='Anne Hathaway'/><category term='apostrophes'/><category term='Blessing'/><category term='Ben Johnson'/><category term='Tichborne'/><category term='Cold Knap Lake'/><category term='Alfred Tennyson'/><category term='Half-Caste'/><category term='Presents from My Aunts'/><category term='simile'/><category term='Hitcher'/><category term='metre'/><category term='enjambment'/><category term='Salome'/><category term='Niyi Osundare'/><category term='Blackberry picking'/><category term='Not my business'/><category term='exclamation mark'/><category term='sonnet'/><category term='stanza'/><category term='rhyme'/><category term='Death of a Naturalist'/><category term='Nothing&apos;s Changed'/><category term='repetition'/><category term='October'/><category term='theme'/><category term='Moniza Alvi'/><category term='metaphors'/><category term='Nissim Ezekiel alliteration'/><category term='humour'/><category term='Walt Whitman'/><category term='Night of the Scorpion'/><category term='Denise Levertov'/><category term='metaphorically'/><category term='contrast'/><category term='rhymes'/><category term='ellipsis'/><category term='assonance'/><category term='Yeats'/><category term='Literature'/><category term='rhyming triplets'/><category term='character'/><category term='love'/><category term='The Eagle'/><category term='Ferlinghetti'/><category term='onomatopoeia'/><category term='Pakistan'/><category term='poem'/><category term='irony'/><category term='Island Man'/><category term='English'/><category term='Derek Walcott'/><category term='imagery'/><category term='oxymoron'/><category term='figures of speech'/><category term='anapaestic metre'/><category term='dramatic monologue'/><category term='Gillian Clarke'/><category term='On my first sonne'/><category term='full stop'/><category term='Gerard Manley Hopkins'/><category term='rhythm'/><category term='punctuation'/><category term='slang'/><category term='Mid-Term Break'/><category term='Chidiock Tichborne'/><category term='comparison'/><category term='Thomas Hardy'/><category term='persona'/><category term='Patrolling Barnegat'/><category term='Romeo and Juliet'/><category term='short stories'/><category term='Imtiaz Dharker'/><category term='Mother'/><category term='Robin'/><category term='Sonnet 130'/><category term='Stealing'/><category term='Shakespeare'/><category term='poems'/><category term='Marilyn Monroe'/><category term='rhyming couplets'/><category term='Walcott'/><category term='hyphen'/><category term='Laboratory'/><category term='personification'/><category term='rhyme scheme'/><category term='assonanace'/><category term='rhyming couplet'/><category term='question marks'/><category term='imperative'/><category term='John Agard'/><category term='extended metaphor'/><category term='Seamus Heaney'/><category term='personified'/><category term='Grace Nichols'/><category term='This room'/><category term='identity'/><category term='revise'/><category term='poetry'/><category term='colon'/><category term='enjambement'/><category term='scavengers'/><category term='comma'/><category term='Baby-sitting'/><category term='cluster of three'/><category term='poet'/><category term='Simon Armitage'/><category term='Carol Ann Duffy'/><category term='Heaney'/><category term='semi-colon'/><title type='text'>Poetry for GCSE English</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17510237124879094691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5vmH7DRxg/SraLj_XBHoI/AAAAAAAAAVU/V7HBPeBlcvo/S220/IMG_2535.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>39</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4534118923383499945.post-4644027250118640900</id><published>2011-05-20T11:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-20T11:55:48.417-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dramatic monologue'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stanza'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='personification'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='anapaestic metre'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='alliteration'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poem'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Robert Browning'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='enjambment'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='metre'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Laboratory'/><title type='text'>The Laboratory, by Robert Browning</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: medium;"&gt;The subtitle to Robert Browning's poem “The Laboratory”, “Ancien Regime”, tells us that it is set in France before the revolution, when the old regime of the monarchy was still in place. The poem is a dramatic monologue. The narrator appears to be a woman, a fact which is not apparent in the opening stanza, but becomes so as the poem develops.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: medium;"&gt;In the first stanza, the narrator addresses another person using the terms 'thou' and 'thy', which are the old-fashioned familiar forms of 'you' and 'your'. She is putting on a mask and watching the person in the laboratory through a haze of smoke: 'thro' these faint smokes curling whitely'. The narrator refers to the laboratory as 'this devil's-smithy', which is the first sign that something sinister is going on. The final line of this stanza leaves us in no doubt of this, as the woman asks, 'Which is the poison to poison her, prithee?' The repetition of 'poison' emphasises its importance.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: medium;"&gt;The opening phrase of the second stanza, 'He is with her,' suggests that the narrator has asked for poison to be concocted because she is jealous. It would seem that her lover has deserted her for another woman. She says that they think she is crying and has gone to pray in 'the drear / Empty church'. The couple, meanwhile, are making fun of her, stressed by the repetition of 'laugh' in line 7. The stanza closes with the brief phrase 'I am here', emphasising the setting of the laboratory which is in such sharp contrast to the church.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: medium;"&gt;The phrase 'Grind away' at the start of the third stanza shows the woman's eagerness for the chemist to make the poison. Browning brings the description alive by using alliteration in the phrases 'moisten and mash' and 'Pound at thy powder'. The narrator is not in a hurry and says she would rather watch the concocting of the poison than be dancing at the King's court.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: medium;"&gt;In the fourth stanza the narrator comments on the ingredients of the poison. The chemist is mixing it with a pestle and mortar, and the woman describes the gum from a tree as 'gold oozings', giving the impression that it is both beautiful and valuable. She then looks at a blue liquid in a 'soft phial', finding the colour 'exquisite'. She imagines that it will taste sweet because of its beautiful appearance and is surprised that it is a poison. &lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Stanza five begins with the narrator wishing she possessed all the ingredients, which she refers to as 'treasures'. Browning uses personification to describe them as 'a wild crowd', and the woman considers them as 'pleasures', a sinister attitude to poisonous substances. The use of the adjective 'invisible' means that just a tiny amount would be required. The narrator delights in the thought of being able to carry 'pure death' in any one of a list of small accessories, such as an earring or a fan-mount.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: medium;"&gt;In the sixth stanza the narrator turns her thoughts to how easy it will be at court to give 'a mere lozenge', like a sweet, that will kill a woman in just half an hour. She names two women in this stanza, Pauline and Elise, and it is not clear if one of them is the current target of her jealousy and desire to murder. She delights at the thought of Elise dying, and Browning uses enjambment to create the list 'her head / And her breast and her arms and her hands', perhaps because she is jealous of Elise's beauty.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: medium;"&gt;The seventh stanza opens with the sudden exclamation 'Quick!' and the narrator is now excited as the poison is ready. She then reveals her disappointment, however, as its colour is 'grim', unlike the blue liquid in the phial. She hoped that it would make her intended victim's drink look so appetising that she would be encouraged to drink it. In the eighth stanza she is concerned about how tiny the amount of poison is: 'What a drop!' She says that the other woman is considerably bigger than her, and thinks that she 'ensnared' or caught the man in her trap because of her size. The narrator is not convinced that the drop of poison will be fatal: 'this never will free / The soul from those masculine eyes'. It will not be enough to stop the victim's pulse, which the narrator describes as 'magnificent'.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: medium;"&gt;In the ninth stanza the narrator recounts, in lines using enjambment, how she had gazed at the other woman the previous evening when her ex-lover was with whispering to her. She had hoped that by staring at her she 'would fall shrivelled'. This obviously did not happen, but the narrator knows that the poison will do its work. Stanza ten has slightly shorter lines than the others, and the narrator addresses the chemist directly. She knows that the poison will act quickly, but she does not want her victim to have an easy death: 'Not that I bid you spare her the pain'. Browning uses alliteration in a cluster of three to describe how the narrator wants the other woman to suffer the effects of the poison, in the phrase 'Brand, burn up, bite'. The stanza ends with the narrator commenting that her ex-lover will always have the memory of the pain on the dying woman's face, and she appears to relish this thought.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: medium;"&gt;The narrator asks the chemist if the poison is ready at the start of the eleventh stanza. She asks him to remove her mask and not to be 'morose', or gloomy. The poison will be lethal for her victim, and she does not want the mask to stop her having a good look at it. She describes it with the alliterative phrase 'a delicate droplet', and alliteration appears again as she comments 'my whole fortune's fee!' meaning that it has cost her everything she owns. In the closing line of the stanza, she wonders if she herself can be harmed by the poison, considering the effect it will have on her victim.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: medium;"&gt;The twelfth and final stanza begins with the narrator once again showing how much the poison is costing her. She tells the chemist 'Now take all my jewels, gorge gold to your fill', and the alliteration in the phrase 'gorge gold' adds emphasis. She shows her gratitude by telling the chemist, whom she addresses as 'old man', that he may kiss her on her lips if he would like to. She asks him, however, to 'brush this dust off' her, referring to traces of poison, as she is afraid it will harm her too: 'lest horror it brings'. The poem ends as she proclaims that she will 'dance at the King's!' a triumphant announcement. Whether or not her victim dies from ingesting the poison, we do not know, but she shows no remorse and is obviously determined to go through with her murderous plan.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Browning has used an anapaestic metre in “The Laboratory”, in other words two stressed syllables followed by one unstressed one. This gives the lines of poetry an upbeat, fast-paced rhythm that convey the woman's excitement at the idea of poisoning her victim. Browning has created a character who is totally ruthless and eaten up by jealousy, determined to carry out an act of revenge that will prove fatal to another woman. &lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: medium;"&gt;In his book “Revise the English and English Literature Anthology,” Tony Childs states that the narrator of “The Laboratory” is based on an imaginary incident in the life of Marie Madeleine Marguerite D'Aubray Brinvilliers (1630-76). In reality, she killed her father and two brothers by poisoning them and also planned to poison her husband. Although her victims were all male, Browning has adapted the character into a dangerously jealous woman targeting her ex-lover's new female interests. His portrait of her is utterly convincing. &lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4534118923383499945-4644027250118640900?l=poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/feeds/4644027250118640900/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2011/05/laboratory-by-robert-browning.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/4644027250118640900'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/4644027250118640900'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2011/05/laboratory-by-robert-browning.html' title='The Laboratory, by Robert Browning'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17510237124879094691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5vmH7DRxg/SraLj_XBHoI/AAAAAAAAAVU/V7HBPeBlcvo/S220/IMG_2535.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4534118923383499945.post-172929529647273233</id><published>2011-05-20T11:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-20T11:49:45.906-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rhyme'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='character'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stanza'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='persona'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='simile'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stealing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='enjambment'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Carol Ann Duffy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='slang'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: medium;"&gt;In her poem “Stealing,” Carol Ann Duffy takes on the persona of a criminal who appears to have no regrets. The poem opens with the narrator repeating a question, 'The most unusual thing I ever stole?' It seems that he or she is being questioned by someone who is curious about the thefts. The thief's answer to the question is 'A snowman,' which certainly is an unusual thing to steal. The description is poetic: 'He looked magnificent: a tall, white mute / beneath the winter moon.' Enjambment allows for an extended image; it is noticeable that there are three words beginning with the letter 'm' here. Two more appear in the following sentence: 'mate' and 'mind'. The thief explains his desire to have the snowman, using the simile that his mind was 'as cold as the slice of ice / within my own brain.' The coldness of the two minds conveys the idea that the thief is a person with no feelings, a harsh criminal. Duffy uses rhyme within the simile in 'slice of ice', creating a vivid image. The first stanza ends with a simple sentence in which the thief recounts that he stole the snowman's head first.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: medium;"&gt;The second stanza opens with the thief stating bluntly that it would be better to die rather than give up on the idea of stealing something you want: 'Better off dead than giving in.' He remembers how heavy the snowman was when he carried the 'torso' close to his own chest and the intense coldness penetrated his own body: 'a fierce chill / piercing my gut.' The phrase that follows, 'part of the thrill', forms a rhyme with 'chill', although 'thrill' is not at the end of the line. What gave the thief a thrill was the thought of children waking up the next morning and crying when they saw that the snowman had gone. This is another obvious clue to the harshness of the thief. He ends the second stanza with the brief statement 'Life's tough.' The shortness of the sentence gives it punch, and again shows the thief's lack of remorse. We sense that life has been hard for him and he wants to pay back, even if the ones who suffer are children.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: medium;"&gt;At the beginning of the third stanza, the thief goes on to say 'Sometimes I steal things I don't need'. This perhaps suggests a sense of boredom. He says 'I joy-ride cars', but it is just for the sake of it, not because he has to go somewhere. Then again he burgles houses purely out of curiosity. Line 13 contains another three words beginning with the letter 'm': 'I'm a mucky ghost, leave a mess, maybe pinch a camera.' This line, however, is much less poetic than the description of the snowman in the first stanza, using slang words such as 'mucky' and 'pinch'. The last two lines of the stanza describe the way that the thief, with a 'gloved hand', opens the door of a bedroom where a stranger is sleeping. 'Mirrors' is a single word sentence that continues the thread of words beginning with 'm'. He ends with a description of his sigh, 'Aah,' which is set in italics for emphasis, as he sees the reflection of someone asleep.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Stanza four returns to the occasion of stealing the snowman: 'It took some time.' The thief 'reassembled' the snowman in his own garden, but it looked different. He decided to kick it and break it, showing a streak of vandalism: 'I took a run / and booted him. Again. Again.' The repetition of 'Again' in one-word sentences stresses his determination and also gives the impression that he was starting to lose control of himself. The alliterative description 'My breath ripped out / in rags' emphasises desperation, and the idea of rags underlines the destructive act. Looking back, the thief realises that it was a senseless thing to do: 'It seems daft now', but this sentence makes us feel that at the time the thief was completely wrapped up in his desire to destroy the snowman. The stanza ends once again with a simple sentence, 'I was sick of the world.' The thief does not seem to have been capable of any positive thoughts, or any optimism.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: medium;"&gt;The fifth and final stanza opens with another one-word sentence: 'Boredom.' That seems to be what pushes the narrator to steal, and he continues 'Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself.' This is a person who cannot find anything constructive to do with his time. He then says that he once stole a guitar and considered learning to play it. He obviously didn't do so, but it is the only positive idea that he mentions during the poem. 'I nicked a bust of Shakespeare once, / flogged it' means that he stole the bust and sold it. The words 'nicked' and 'flogged' are reminiscent of the slang in line 13, and form a sharp contrast with the literary connotations of an object representing Shakespeare. In the penultimate line, the thief remarks again that the snowman was the strangest thing he ever stole. The poem ends with the question 'You don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?' It creates a feeling of alienation and implies that the person he is talking to will not be able to see his point of view or help him to overcome his compulsion to steal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Duffy has composed 'Stealing' in five regular stanzas of five lines each, and the fact that the third stanza moves away from the theft of the snowman but the fourth stanza returns to it gives the poem a certain symmetry. The use of enjambment where one line runs through to the next to create a fuller description contrasts effectively with the abrupt, one-word sentences dotted here and there. Rhyme is used in an unusual way as in 'slice of ice', and slang phrases give a sense of genuine conversation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: medium;"&gt;The narrator here, the thief, is a cold-hearted character who gets a thrill out of depriving people of their belongings and even upsetting children. His life has obviously been hard and the fact that he refers to boredom probably means that he is unemployed. Duffy has portrayed a character that, as hard-hearted as he is, needs help from the society that he cannot conform to.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4534118923383499945-172929529647273233?l=poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/feeds/172929529647273233/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2011/05/in-her-poem-stealing-carol-ann-duffy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/172929529647273233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/172929529647273233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2011/05/in-her-poem-stealing-carol-ann-duffy.html' title=''/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17510237124879094691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5vmH7DRxg/SraLj_XBHoI/AAAAAAAAAVU/V7HBPeBlcvo/S220/IMG_2535.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4534118923383499945.post-1639131567039798606</id><published>2011-05-20T11:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-20T11:44:57.300-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Salome'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rhyme'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stanza'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rhythm'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cluster of three'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='simile'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poem'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='enjambment'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Carol Ann Duffy'/><title type='text'>Salome, by Carol Ann Duffy</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Two references in the New Testament of the Bible, in the Gospels according to Mark and Matthew, give us the background to the character of Salome. Briefly, she danced for King Herod who was so delighted that he said he would give Salome whatever she asked for. Salome, prompted by her mother Herodias, asked for the head of John the Baptist, who had said that Herodias' marriage to Herod was unlawful. Herod had no choice but to send an executioner to John the Baptist, who was in prison. His head was brought to Salome 'in a dish', and she presented it to her mother.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: medium;"&gt;In her poem “Salome”, Carol Ann Duffy adopts the persona of the dancer, but she doesn't sound like a biblical character at all. The impression is of a contemporary girl or young woman. The narrator tells us at the start of the poem 'I'd done it before' and says she will probably do it again: do what again? Salome has woken up with a head on the pillow next to her, and she doesn't even know whose it is. She doesn't seem to think that's important, either. It may not sound too out of the ordinary; people might have too much to drink and not remember what happened when they wake up the next morning. Salome tells us that the man is 'Good-looking' with 'dark hair'; so far, so good. Then, however, she says that the hair is 'rather matted' and that the beard is a lighter shade of red than it had been. It begins to sound as though the head is blood stained. Salome goes on to say that the 'deep lines around the eyes' could be caused by laughter, but she thinks more likely by pain. His mouth is 'crimson', another sign of blood. When she kisses his lips, they are 'Colder than pewter', a simile that tells us that he is dead. She tries to remember his name: 'Peter?' ends the first stanza.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Duffy links the second stanza with the first by opening it with more possible names: “Simon? Andrew? John?” They are all names of Jesus' disciples, and this is the first direct biblical reference. Salome then turns to her need to treat her hangover, wanting tea with 'dry toast'. The fact that she 'rang for a maid' makes it clear that she is from a high-class family. (Salome was the step-daughter of King Herod.) When the maid comes up with breakfast, Salome appreciates the 'innocent clatter' of the crockery, the tidying up, and the maid's conversation, described as her 'regional' patter. The second stanza closes with Salome's admission that she has a hangover and is in a dreadful state after a night on the tiles: 'wrecked as I was from a night on the batter.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: medium;"&gt;The third stanza opens with the brief but clear announcement 'Never again!' The focus now switches to Salome's determination to 'clean up' her act. She is determined to get fit, as well as to give up alcohol ('booze'), cigarettes ('fags') and sex – a cluster of three. As her thoughts turn to sex, she realises that she has to 'turf out' the man she slept with the previous night. She refers to him initially as the 'blighter', giving the impression of a nuisance, then the 'beater or biter', alluding to either physical violence or sexual perversion, perhaps. The stanza ends with the description that he had come to bed 'like a lamb to the slaughter', a simile that has biblical connotations and is ironic as he has in fact been killed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: medium;"&gt;The fourth and final stanza, which is also the shortest, begins with Salome looking at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes 'glitter' – is it from a thought in her mind, or could it even be tears? She makes a sudden action, flinging back the sheets that are 'sticky red' with blood. Her comment on what she sees is 'ain't life a bitch', but actually it seems that Salome herself is the bitch. In the poem's closing line, she reveals that under the sheets is the man's head 'on a platter', just the way that John the Baptist's head had been brought to Salome.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: medium;"&gt;One of the most striking elements of the poem “Salome” is Duffy's skilful use of language. There are alliterative phrases, such as 'clatter / of cups', 'clearing of clutter' and 'the blighter / the beater or biter', the last of which are also half rhymes. Running throughout the poem is a series of words ending in '-er': 'lighter', 'laughter' and 'pewter', for example, in the first stanza; these are also half rhymes. Others are complete rhymes but are dotted around in the poem: 'matter', 'flatter', 'clatter', 'batter', 'latter', and the final word 'platter'. Duffy avoids a restricting, traditional rhyming pattern, but the use of rhyme here and there throughout creates a unity, like a thread running through. Some of these words, such as 'clutter' and 'clatter' are also onomatopoeic. They add to the poem's fast rhythm which is in keeping with Salome's coldness or lack of emotion. The four stanzas are all of different lengths, and the lines vary between short, medium and long quite randomly. It is as though thoughts are popping in and out of Salome's mind as she deals with her hangover and flits from one pattern of thought to another. Duffy uses ellipsis twice in the first stanza, 'how to flatter …' to create a pause; she also uses enjambment here and there to extend an idea or a description.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;“&lt;span style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Salome” is a poem that shocks by the narrator's flippant attitude, and Duffy achieves this effect perfectly. The language itself is informal, contemporary and includes a few slang phrases such as 'a night on the batter' or 'ain't life a bitch'. Above all, the combination of the poem's rhythm and Duffy's skilful use of rhyme and half rhyme throughout the poem give an almost humorous tone to the dark theme. “Salome” paints a picture of decadence, of a dancer who has revelled in nights filled with alcohol, smoking and sex. Just when she realises the error of her ways and decides things will have to change, she discovers the severed head under the sheets. Duffy brings the poem to a dramatic conclusion, saving this image for the final line.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4534118923383499945-1639131567039798606?l=poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/feeds/1639131567039798606/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2011/05/salome-by-carol-ann-duffy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/1639131567039798606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/1639131567039798606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2011/05/salome-by-carol-ann-duffy.html' title='Salome, by Carol Ann Duffy'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17510237124879094691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5vmH7DRxg/SraLj_XBHoI/AAAAAAAAAVU/V7HBPeBlcvo/S220/IMG_2535.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4534118923383499945.post-3922350419188243837</id><published>2010-03-20T06:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-20T06:21:29.545-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Seamus Heaney'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stanza'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mid-Term Break'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rhyming couplet'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='enjambment'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='metaphor'/><title type='text'>Mid-Term Break by Seamus Heaney</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;With the title 'Mid-Term Break' Heaney suggests that this is a poem focusing on a childhood memory. This was, however, no happy break from school. The first stanza does not explain what the reason for the break was, but Heaney's wait in the sick bay sets up a feeling that something is wrong. The use of the word 'knelling' rather than 'tolling' for the school bell has connotations of death. We discover during the course of the poem that Heaney was returning home for the funeral of his younger brother who had been killed in a road accident.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The second stanza shows how devastating this tragic accident was for Heaney's family. Heaney remembers that he met his father 'crying- / He had always taken funerals in his stride'. The third stanza, in contrast, opens with a description of the baby of the family that 'cooed and laughed and rocked the pram', showing that in some aspects family life went on as usual amid the grief.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The third and fourth stanzas are linked by enjambment and by the description of Heaney's feelings on confronting those who had come to pay their respects. Heaney felt 'embarrassed / By old men' as they stood up, shook his hand and expressed their sorrow. It must indeed have been strange and probably uncomfortable for a young boy to find himself in a situation of reversed roles. He was aware of 'whispers' as acquaintances told strangers that he was the eldest child of the family and attended boarding school.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The fourth and fifth stanzas are also linked by enjambment and show how different Heaney's mother's reaction to the event was from his father's. As she held his hand she 'coughed out angry tearless sighs', conveying the sense that she was too upset to cry but sensitive to the need of her eldest child for comfort.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;In the fifth stanza Heaney describes in a matter-of-fact way that the ambulance brought the 'corpse', giving a sense that at first Heaney could perhaps not think of the body as being that of his brother. The tone changes, however, in the sixth stanza as Heaney goes up alone to see his brother's body the following morning. He describes the presence of snowdrops and candles as soothing the bedside; this is a transferred epithet, as they actually soothed his feelings. Heaney again uses enjambment to link this stanza with the seventh, mentioning that his brother now looked paler than the last time he had seen him six weeks previously. He uses the metaphor 'Wearing a poppy bruise on his left temple', poppies being the colour of blood as well as a symbol of the dead. Heaney uses the word 'box' rather than coffin, and is reminded as he looks at his brother of the way he saw him in his cot. The final line of the seventh stanza tells us that the little boy had no 'gaudy scars' as the car knocked him to one side rather than running over him. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;'Mid-Term Break' ends with a single line in contrast to the previous stanzas which are each three lines long. 'A four foot box, a foot for every year' describes poignantly how young the boy was and how tiny his coffin was. Heaney reserves the use of rhyme for the final two lines of the poem, where 'clear' and 'year' form a rhyming couplet. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The poem begins with factual statements almost devoid of emotion. It then moves through a phase of describing discomfort and difficult emotions in the presence of strangers, where the sentences become more complex. As Heaney reaches the point where he spends time alone with his brother's body, there is a feeling of calm. It is, however, extremely moving. Such a tragedy must have had a profound effect on Heaney and this poem conveys his feelings beautifully.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4534118923383499945-3922350419188243837?l=poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/feeds/3922350419188243837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2010/03/mid-term-break-by-seamus-heaney.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/3922350419188243837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/3922350419188243837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2010/03/mid-term-break-by-seamus-heaney.html' title='Mid-Term Break by Seamus Heaney'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17510237124879094691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5vmH7DRxg/SraLj_XBHoI/AAAAAAAAAVU/V7HBPeBlcvo/S220/IMG_2535.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4534118923383499945.post-5822160373466715159</id><published>2010-01-29T13:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-29T13:04:06.479-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='punctuation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='comma'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='semi-colon'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ellipsis'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='exclamation mark'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='colon'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hyphen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='question marks'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='apostrophes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='full stop'/><title type='text'>Not Poetry, but Punctuation</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;In order to be able to punctuate correctly, it does help to have an understanding of sentences, clauses and phrases. Very briefly, a sentence needs to contain a finite verb, i.e., a verb that has a subject. A clause also has to contain a verb: a main clause can stand on its own as a sentence, whilst a subordinate clause is introduced by a conjunction. A phrase is a group of words that does not contain a verb and cannot stand alone as a sentence.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;FULL STOP OR PERIOD  .&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;A full stop or period must be used at the end of a sentence, as defined above, unless it is replaced by a question mark of exclamation mark. A common mistake is to use a comma instead of a full stop. In direct speech, a full stop should be placed before the closing speech marks if they mark the end of a sentence.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Full stops or periods are also used after abbreviations, unless the abbreviation ends with the last letter of the word, in which case no period is necessary. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;QUESTION MARKS ?&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;A question mark is placed at the end of a direct question. It comes before the closing speech marks in direct speech, for example:&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;“Where is the library?” I asked him.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt; Question marks are not used with indirect (reported) questions, for example:&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;I asked him where the library was.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;This is an indirect question that does not need a question mark.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;EXCLAMATION MARK  !&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;An exclamation mark indicates surprise, anger, etc. It could also be used to show that the speaker is raising his/her voice.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;“Look out!” shouted Jim.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;“Don't be so rude!” cried the old lady.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;“I've won a prize!” exclaimed my cousin.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;COMMA  ,&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The comma indicates a pause that is less strong than a paused indicated by a semi-colon or a full stop. If in doubt, it is probably better to omit a comma unless it seems absolutely necessary. In the case of a sentence with a second clause introduced by a conjunction, a comma may be placed before the conjunction if the verb in the subordinate clause has a subject, for example:&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;I wanted to go abroad but couldn't really afford it. (No comma needed, as the subject of the verb couldn't is I in the previous clause.)&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;I really wanted to stay in, but the sun was shining and I had no excuse.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Commas are never placed before opening parentheses.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Commas should be used to separate brief items in a list, the last two items being joined by the word and, for example:&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;I bought apples, oranges, bananas, grapes and pears.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;A comma should be placed at the end of direct speech, before the closing speech marks, if the speech is followed by 'she said', 'he asked', and so on. Exceptions would be where a question mark or exclamation mark is required. (See below.)&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;COLON :&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;A colon can be used to introduce a list, for example:&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;When they went on holiday they took very little luggage: a change of clothes; a first-aid kit and some toothpaste. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Another use is to separate two clauses in a sentence, where the second clause explains the first.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The boys went home early: it was too wet to play tennis.  &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;SEMI-COLON ;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;A semi-colon marks a stronger pause than a comma, but it is less strong than a full stop, for example:&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Don't wait more than half an hour for me; go on ahead.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;A semi-colon can  separate longer items in a list, for example:&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;We were asked to bring three dozen paper clips; two balls of string; one small and one large pair of scissors; a tube of glue suitable for sticking paper; a small notepad and a ballpoint pen.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;INVERTED COMMAS/SPEECH MARKS/QUOTATION MARKS “ &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Double speech marks are used to indicate direct speech. They are opened before the first word that is spoken and closed after the final word that is actually spoken. A full stop, comma, question mark or exclamation mark should be placed after the last word but before the closing speech marks. Words and phrases such as 'she said' and 'he asked' are not included within the speech marks. A quotation used within direct speech can be placed in single inverted commas. Indirect or reported speech does not require the use of speech marks. Here are one or two examples:&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;“Will you remember to pick Robert up on your way home?” she asked.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;He replied, “I've never forgotten to pick him up.”&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;“Who first said, 'Variety is the spice of life'? Answer me that!” he challenged us. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;They told us that it was too soon to make a reservation. (This is reported or indirect speech that does not need speech marks.)&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;In dialogue, start a new line every time there is a new speaker.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;APOSTROPHES '&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Apostrophes are perhaps the most misused of all punctuation marks. They have two uses: the first is for contraction, indicating missing letters in shortened words; the second is for possession, where there is an element of ownership or belonging. Examples:&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The doctor's surgery was empty. (only one doctor)&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The dogs' paws were covered in mud. (more than one dog)&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The children's books were all over the floor. (The apostrophe is before the s, because the plural form children does not have an s.)&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;James's house was burgled last night.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The only exception regarding apostrophes for possession is its. It's with an apostrophe means it is or it has. If its means belonging to it, no apostrophe is used, as in this example:&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The cat washed its face.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Examples of apostrophes used for contraction are don't, didn't, can't, isn't, shouldn't, I've, you're, they're, it's.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;ELLIPSIS ...&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Three successive full stops or periods, known as an ellipsis, can be used to indicate an unfinished sentence.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;DASH  &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;A pair of dashes can be used to separate a phrase or clause within a sentence that could be omitted and leave a sentence that would still make sense. The separated phrase or clause usually adds extra information to the sentence, for example:&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;I'll wear my red shoes – the ones I bought in Italy last summer – as long as it doesn't rain.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;HYPHEN  -&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;A short hyphen is used between two words to form a compound word. Not all compound words require hyphens, but a dictionary will tell you whether or not one is needed.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Capital letters are not strictly speaking punctuation, but of course every sentence must start with a capital letter. The first word in direct speech must always have a capital letter, even if the spoken words are not at the very beginning of a sentence. Proper nouns should always have a capital letter; these includes names of people and places, days of the week, months of the year, titles of books or films, and so on.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4534118923383499945-5822160373466715159?l=poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/feeds/5822160373466715159/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2010/01/not-poetry-but-punctuation.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/5822160373466715159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/5822160373466715159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2010/01/not-poetry-but-punctuation.html' title='Not Poetry, but Punctuation'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17510237124879094691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5vmH7DRxg/SraLj_XBHoI/AAAAAAAAAVU/V7HBPeBlcvo/S220/IMG_2535.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4534118923383499945.post-1202606656716419541</id><published>2010-01-22T09:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-22T09:22:29.260-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Romeo and Juliet'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='alliteration'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Inversnaid'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gerard Manley Hopkins'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='simile'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Shakespeare'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='metaphors'/><title type='text'>Metaphors and Alliteration</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Metaphors and alliteration are two quite different figures of speech. Metaphors compare one thing to another by saying something IS something else or DOES something else (as opposed to a simile, where the words LIKE or AS are used in the comparison). Alliteration, on the other hand, is the use of the same consonant at the beginning of words in the same sentence or phrase as each other, sometimes to create a particular mood or atmosphere.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;METAPHOR &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Shakespeare uses metaphors in “Romeo and Juliet” when Romeo is expressing his idea of love:&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;'Love is a smoke rais'd with the fume of sighs;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Being purg'd, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes; &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Being vex'd, a sea nourish'd with loving tears.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;What is it else? A madness most discreet,&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;A choking gall, and a preserving sweet.'&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Romeo conjures up these images of love in Act One Scene I, expressing his frustration that Rosaline does not return the love he feels for her. All this is soon forgotten when he sets eyes on Juliet, and he first speaks to her in Act One Scene V. He compares his love for her to the idea of worshipping at a holy shrine, and sees his lips as pilgrims as he is about to kiss Juliet's hand:&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;'My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.”&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;ALLITERATION&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Alliteration is used to striking effect by Gerard Manley Hopkins in his poem 'Inversnaid', in which he describes a Scottish burn, or river, splashing down from a height to a lake below:&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;'In coop and in comb the fleece of his foam&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Flutes and low to the lake falls home.'&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;He skilfully fits three alliterative phrases into two lines of poetry here, using the c, f and l sounds, the latter two intertwining.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;In the fourth and final stanza Hopkins uses alliteration with the consonant w in each of the four lines:&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;'What would the world be, once bereft&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Of wet and wildness? Let them be left,&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;O let them be left, wildness and wet;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Long live the weed and the wilderness yet.'&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The subtle shifts from wildness to wilderness and wet to weed are particularly effective. Notice the additional alliterative phrases intervening: 'Let them be left,' and 'Long live.' &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Other poems that make extensive use of alliteration are Walt Whitman's 'Patrolling Barnegat' and Seamus Heaney's 'Death of a Naturalist'.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;There are several other figures of speech used by poets and authors, including assonance, simile, contrast, onomatopoeia and personification. A  writer can bring his work alive by creating vivid images to convey his ideas and describe his experiences.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4534118923383499945-1202606656716419541?l=poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/feeds/1202606656716419541/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2010/01/metaphors-and-alliteration.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/1202606656716419541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/1202606656716419541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2010/01/metaphors-and-alliteration.html' title='Metaphors and Alliteration'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17510237124879094691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5vmH7DRxg/SraLj_XBHoI/AAAAAAAAAVU/V7HBPeBlcvo/S220/IMG_2535.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4534118923383499945.post-8920631561257866675</id><published>2010-01-09T00:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-09T00:28:55.630-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Simon Armitage'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='AQA anthology'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Seamus Heaney'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='short stories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poem'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gillian Clarke'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='revise'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Literature'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Carol Ann Duffy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='English'/><title type='text'>Revise the English and English Literature Anthology for AQA A</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;I must emphasise at the outset of this review that Revise the English and English Literature Anthology for AQA A is intended for pupils taking GCSE English examinations, but only those who are studying the AQA Specification A as is clear from the title. (AQA is an examination board.) Pupils will be supplied by their schools with the AQA Anthology itself (Oxford University Press, ISBN 0198318812); the Anthology is not available in online or offline bookshops, but if you did need to obtain a copy, you might find one on Ebay.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Tony Childs' book is therefore intended to assist with revision of the Anthology, by taking the poems and short stories one by one and asking questions that will guide pupils in the understanding and analysis of the works. The book opens with a six-page introduction that explains the aims of the book, how it can help with revision, and how to prepare for the examination. The summary stresses the importance of reading all the texts again before attempting to answer the questions in this book. There is also some guidance on sitting the examinations themselves, giving details of how long they last, how many questions there are, how to make a good choice of question, and how to plan an answer before starting to write.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The book is then divided into two main sections, Section 1 on English and Section 2 on English Literature: all pupils study at least half the poems in Section 1; all pupils study some of the poetry in Section 2; and some pupils study the prose in Section 2.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Section 1 English&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;All pupils have to study this section of the Anthology, although some schools concentrate on only Cluster 1 or Cluster 2, each of which contains eight poems. In the examination, there is a choice of two questions, one featuring poems from Cluster 1 and the other poems from Cluster 2. A pupil who has only studied one of the clusters will therefore not have a choice of questions. Cluster 1 contains poems by poets such as Lawrence Ferlinghetti, Chinua Achebe and Grace Nichols, whilst Cluster 2 has works by John Agard, Moniza Alvi and Tom Leonard amongst others. Some of these are written in non-standard English, and most are by poets of non-British origin.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Section 1 briefly explains how the English Anthology fits into the course, and then goes on to discuss what the examiners are looking for over the following two pages. It then looks at the poems one by one, giving a little information about the author followed in some cases by a glossary, and then the main 'Read and revise' set of questions. The questions are preceded by two or three sentences giving a reminder to read the poem and pointing out a basic feature of it, for example, 'Notice particularly the changing length of sentence' for Imtiaz Dharker's poem 'Blessing'. To give an example of the type of questions presented in this book, for Lawrence Ferlinghetti's 'Two Scavengers in a Truck, Two Beautiful People in a Mercedes', Childs asks, 'Which details in the description of the scavengers contrast with the people in the Mercedes? Look for words and phrases, and think about their effect.' Whilst the book does not provide answers to these questions, they will guide pupils in their reading of the poems and show them the points that they need to look for. The questions are followed by 'Final thoughts', a brief summing up, for example 'Read the poem again. Much of the poem is at least half-joking, and is like a song. How does this change at the end?' sums up John Agard's 'Half-Caste'. Finally, there is a table suggesting which poems in the collection could be compared to the one in question.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;After all the poems have been dealt with, Childs discusses how to go about comparing poems from different cultures and traditions. He takes 'Night of the Scorpion' and 'Two Scavengers in a Truck, Two Beautiful People in a Mercedes' and draws up a plan giving notes on how they could be compared in terms of meanings and interpretations; linguistic, structural and presentational devices; language variations; and finally place and culture. The following two pages on Structuring a response to Poems from Different Cultures and Traditions considers the question 'Compare the ways in which the poets present people in Night of the Scorpion and one other poem of your choice from the selection.' It offers clear advice in the form of bullet points as well as a table of detailed notes. Pupils are always advised to end by stating which poem of the two they prefer and why.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Section 2 English Literature&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;All pupils have to study some poems from the Pre-1914 Poetry Bank; alongside these, some pupils study the poems of Seamus Heaney and Gillian Clarke, whilst others study those of Carol Ann Duffy and Simon Armitage. Most examination questions involve comparing two poems, either one by Heaney with one by Clarke or one by Duffy with one by Armitage, and referring in addition to two poems from the Pre-1914 Bank. The Pre-1914 Poetry Bank includes works by poets such as Walt Whitman, Robert Browning, Thomas Hardy, William Blake and William Wordsworth.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Section 2 opens, similarly to Section 1, by showing how the English Literature Anthology fits into the course and explaining what the examiners are looking for. The Assessment Objectives are explained, which include responding to texts critically, sensitively and in detail; exploring how language, structure and form contribute to meaning; and exploring relationships and comparisons within and between texts. Childs notes that examiners will be looking for an understanding of the texts and an ability to think about them and compare one with another.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The poems of Heaney, Clarke, Duffy, Armitage and those of the Pre-1914 Poetry Bank are then looked at in detail, one by one, in a way similar to that of Section 1. Questions include 'The person in the poem is violent. Find as many violent actions, thoughts or intentions as you can in the poem' (for Duffy's Education for Leisure), or 'In lines 4-6, find two examples of things being unusually sad and affecting – one stated, one implied' (for Heaney's Mid-Term Break). Some of the questions are broken down into several bullet points relating to the same aspect of the poem. Final thoughts sum up each poem, and again there is a table suggesting which other poems are suitable for comparison.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;A sub-section on Comparing poems/ Structuring a poetry response explains a little about the choice of questions offered in the examination and what candidates might be asked to compare, for instance feelings, ideas, and the poets' styles of writing. A plan is given in the form of a table for the question 'Compare the ways that poets write about nature in four or more of the poems you have studied. You should write about The Field Mouse by Gillian Clarke and Storm on the Island by Seamus Heaney, and two poems from the Pre-1914 Poetry Bank'. Childs selects Tennyson's The Eagle and Clare's Sonnet from the Pre-1914 Bank. In the plan, one column is dedicated to each poem, and notes are then made on aggression connected with nature, feelings caused by nature, other issues, language, structure and form.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Prose follows the poetry: many pupils study a novel as a set text for English Literature, such as Steinbeck's 'Of Mice and Men', but the short stories in the AQA Anthology provide an alternative to the novel. Pupils do, however, have to compare two short stories from the selection in the examination. There are seven short stories altogether, the authors of which are Doris Lessing, Sylvia Plath, Ernest Hemingway, Joyce Cary, Graham Swift, Leslie Norris and Michele Roberts – all modern or contemporary writers.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Revision guidance for the Anthology Short Stories is presented in the same way as it is for the poems. Each story is looked at in turn through a series of questions (preceded again by a brief note on the author and a glossary where necessary). Final thoughts are followed by two examples of examination questions which require the story to be compared in some way to one of the others in the collection.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Following the detailed analysis of each story, Childs gives guidance on comparing short stories with regard to both content and style. Structuring a Prose Response on the following two pages shows how to 'Compare two stories where characters face difficult situations'. Taking Lessing's 'Flight' and Roberts' 'Your Shoes', Childs defines the four main points to consider and shows how to make a plan in table form giving notes on these four points.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Sample answers and commentaries give three responses to the question 'Doris Lessing uses pigeons to represent something else. Write about how she does this, and how the author of one other story in the Anthology uses the same technique.' One of the sample answers was awarded a Grade A, one a Grade C, and the third a Grade E. Each sample answer is followed by a commentary.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The Glossary on the final page gives definitions of terms such as alliteration, paradox, refrain and syntax.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;This is probably the best book available to assist in studying and revising the AQA Anthology. Whilst it does not provide answers to the questions asked, the nature of these questions gives a clear idea of what needs to be considered for each poem or short story and assists in giving a sound understanding. Even an able pupil who understands a poem or story well, however, may not be confident in comparing it with another work in the Anthology, and Childs' book gives plenty of advice in this area. There is a bonus for those studying the poems of Cluster 1 for English, as well as those studying the poems of Heaney and Clarke for English Literature, as some of these are focused on when showing how to structure a response to the poems.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;I have used this book on a one-to-one basis both when introducing a pupil to a poem or short story for the first time and for the purposes of revision. I have also lent it to one or two more able pupils who were aiming at a Grade A for English and English Literature, and they were able to gain a stronger insight into the Anthology by using this book on their own. I do think it would be difficult for a less able pupil to use the book without a tutor or parent guiding them, but for a parent who does wish to help, this is an ideal book. No-one is likely to be using every single sub-section of the book, but even so, if it results in achieving even one grade higher, £6.50 seems a small price to pay. I would definitely recommend this book as a study guide or a revision guide for the examinations in question.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Revise the English and English Literature Anthology for AQA  A&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;by Tony Childs&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Heinemann, 2002&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Paperback, 252 pages&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;ISBN 0435102885&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Price £6.25 (Amazon Marketplace from £2.25)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4534118923383499945-8920631561257866675?l=poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/feeds/8920631561257866675/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2010/01/revise-english-and-english-literature.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/8920631561257866675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/8920631561257866675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2010/01/revise-english-and-english-literature.html' title='Revise the English and English Literature Anthology for AQA A'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17510237124879094691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5vmH7DRxg/SraLj_XBHoI/AAAAAAAAAVU/V7HBPeBlcvo/S220/IMG_2535.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4534118923383499945.post-3956498557804688587</id><published>2010-01-01T11:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-01T11:24:49.915-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='John Clare'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='alliteration'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='assonance'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='simile'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sonnet'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='metaphor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='imagery'/><title type='text'>Sonnet - John Clare</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;John Clare's simply-titled 'Sonnet' of 1841 is a clear statement of his love of the English summer time. He begins with the phrase 'I love...', and this is repeated in the third line as well as the eleventh, with 'I like...' echoing in the ninth line.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Clare uses imagery to focus on the sights of nature that give him so much pleasure. In the first line, summer is personified as 'beaming forth'. In the second line he skilfully combines alliteration and metaphor in his description of  'white wool sack clouds': his comparison of clouds to wool is fitting in that it keeps the imagery within the domain of nature. Colours of flowers are emphasised in the fourth and fifth lines: 'Mare blobs stain with gold' and 'water lilies whiten'.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;In line six, Clare turns to the sound of reeds that 'rustle like wind shook wood', again combining two figures of speech – this time simile and assonance. He expresses his love of watching the Moor Hen searching for her nest in the rushes as well as his admiration of the weeping willow beside the 'clear deep lake'. The long 'ee' sounds in the phrase 'clear deep' emphasis the peace and stillness of the water.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Clare watches flowers swaying and insects flying about in the hay grass in lines eleven and twelve. 'Swings', 'winds' and 'wings' within those two lines build up assonance and alliteration to create a pleasant atmosphere of gentle movement. The final two lines of the sonnet emphasise the fine summer weather and sunshine in the phrases 'bright day' and 'bright beetles'. The insects 'sport about the meadow', giving a feeling of play and enjoyment of the season and the sun. The sonnet ends with a return to the 'clear lake', echoing line ten and giving a sense of unity.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The sonnet is unusual in its lack of punctuation – there is not even a full stop at the end of the final line. The lack of commas or semi-colons allows one line to flow into the next and gives a sense of continuity. The rhyme scheme is, on the other hand, very straightforward and traditional, lending harmony to the sonnet. This is a poem to be appreciated for its simplicity, beautiful imagery and expression of love of nature.   &lt;/p&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love to see the summer beaming forth&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And white wool sack clouds sailing to the north&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love to see the wild flowers come again&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And Mare blobs stain with gold the meadow drain&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And water lilies whiten on the floods&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Where reed clumps rustle like a wind shook wood&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Where from her hiding place the Moor Hen pushes&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And seeks her flag nest floating in bull rushes&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I like the willow leaning half way o'er&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The clear deep lake to stand upon its shore&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love the hay grass when the flower head swings&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To summer winds and insects happy wings&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That sport about the meadow the bright day&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And see bright beetles in the clear lake play&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;John Clare&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1841&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4534118923383499945-3956498557804688587?l=poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/feeds/3956498557804688587/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2010/01/sonnet-john-clare.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/3956498557804688587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/3956498557804688587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2010/01/sonnet-john-clare.html' title='Sonnet - John Clare'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17510237124879094691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5vmH7DRxg/SraLj_XBHoI/AAAAAAAAAVU/V7HBPeBlcvo/S220/IMG_2535.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4534118923383499945.post-810816446550064634</id><published>2009-12-29T03:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-29T03:48:31.247-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Alfred Tennyson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stanza'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='alliteration'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Eagle'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='simile'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rhyming triplets'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poetry'/><title type='text'>The Eagle - Alfred Tennyson</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Composed in 1851, Tennyson's poem 'The Eagle' is a brief but vivid glimpse into the world of this powerful bird. In the initial three-line stanza, the eagle is pictured in a lofty position, on a crag 'close to the sun'. Tennyson uses alliteration in the first line: 'He clasps the crag with crooked hands', a hard 'c' sound recurring and then continuing in the word 'Close' at the beginning of the second line. The harsh consonant suggests the lack of comfort on this mountain top. Rather than using a word such as claws or talons, Tennyson likens the eagle to a person with the term 'hands'. The alliteration of the phrase 'lonely lands' in the second line emphasises the bird's solitude. In the final line of the third stanza, the eagle is seen is being 'Ring'd with the azure world”, in other words the sky, so once again his elevated position is focused on.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The opening line of the second stanza switches to the view below the mountain top in the personifying phrase 'The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls'. The waves are reduced to the size of wrinkles, again emphasising how far above the sea the eagle is. In the second line, the eagle is watching 'from his mountain walls', making his position sound secure, protected. In the final line, Tennyson uses a simile to create an image of the bird's swift and powerful descent on his prey: 'And like a thunderbolt he falls.'&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The rhyming triplets used in each stanza give a feeling of harmony, where a creature is at one with its environment. The rhythm serves to reinforce this atmosphere. In the second and third lines of the first stanza, the stress falls on the first syllable – 'Close' and 'Ring'd' – again emphasising the eagle's position high up and in the centre of the sky.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;In a mere six lines of poetry, Tennyson has constructed a masterly portrayal of the eagle in its natural surroundings.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;He clasps the crag with crooked hands;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Close to the sun in lonely lands,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Ring'd with the azure world, he stands.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;He watches from his mountain walls,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;And like a thunderbolt he falls.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Alfred Tennyson&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;1851&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4534118923383499945-810816446550064634?l=poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/feeds/810816446550064634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2009/12/eagle-alfred-tennyson.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/810816446550064634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/810816446550064634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2009/12/eagle-alfred-tennyson.html' title='The Eagle - Alfred Tennyson'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17510237124879094691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5vmH7DRxg/SraLj_XBHoI/AAAAAAAAAVU/V7HBPeBlcvo/S220/IMG_2535.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4534118923383499945.post-3686713316347779566</id><published>2009-12-27T00:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-27T00:15:02.484-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='repetition'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='personification'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Patrolling Barnegat'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cluster of three'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='alliteration'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poem'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Walt Whitman'/><title type='text'>Patrolling Barnegat - Walt Whitman</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;'Patrolling Barnegat' is a poem that explores nature in all its fury, during a storm at sea. Whitman begins with the repetition of 'wild', leaving us in no doubt as to the mood of the poem. The focus is immediately made clear by the words 'storm' and 'sea'. The personification in the second line, 'roar of the gale', describes the ferocity of the wind, but there is also an 'incessant undertone muttering' – a more subtle sound that never lets up. Sound is again emphasised in the third line with 'Shouts of demoniac laughter'; this is no happy sound, but one associated with evil that is 'piercing' the air every so often.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The cluster of three – 'Waves, air, midnight' – at the start of line four add to the atmosphere, as we now know that this is occurring in the darkest hour. These three are referred to as the 'savagest trinity', a most dangerous combination. Line five tells us that the 'milk-white combs', the crests of the waves, can be distinguished among the shadows, and they are 'careering,' giving a sense of wild, uncontrolled movement. In line six Whitman uses alliteration to create an image of snow falling on the shore: 'On beachy slush and sand spirts of snow fierce slanting'; the repetition of the s gives an impression of the sound of melting snow hitting the ground.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Line seven reminds us of the darkness with 'murk' and the severity of the gale in the phrase 'easterly death-wind' – lives may in fact be in danger. The final word of this line, 'breasting', signals the presence of the coastguards confronting the wind. In line eight they are moving forward, 'watchful and firm' through the 'cutting swirl and spray' of the wind, snow and waves. Line nine is a snatch of conversation in parentheses, as an object is spotted in the distance that may be the wreck of a ship. Someone asks if the red light is flashing, as conditions make this difficult to ascertain.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;In line ten the 'slush and sand' of line six are reiterated, and the coastguards are described as 'tireless' as they trudge along until daybreak. Line eleven tells is that they make their way through the storm 'steadily' and 'slowly', and once again the sound is described as a 'hoarse roar', rough and fierce. It is relentless, 'never remitting', echoing the 'incessant ... muttering' of the second line. Line twelve emphasises again that it is midnight, and echoes the alliterative 'milk-white combs careering' of line five.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;In line thirteen a direct reference is finally made to the coastguards who are the subject of the poem. They are seen as 'a group of dim, weird forms', a description that again underlines the darkness and difficult conditions which make it impossible to see clearly. They are 'struggling, the night confronting', emphasising just how hard it is for them to move along the shore during a storm and in darkness. The final line of the poem refers again to the 'savage trinity' of line four, in other words the waves, the air and the night. The patrollers are watching all of these 'warily', vigilant, knowing that disaster may strike at any moment.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Were it not for the snatches of conversation in line nine, the poem would consist of one long sentence, creating the impression of the constant wildness of the storm, unceasing. Even in line nine, the exclamation mark and the first question mark are not followed by capital letters, as though separate sentences were not intended. There is no real rhyme scheme, but each line ends with an -ing form, emphasising the movement as the waves lash on the shore and the wind blows mercilessly.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Walt Whitman has painted a picture of nature at its harshest and shown how those who patrolled Barnegat Bay in New Jersey braved such adverse conditions, ever watchful for those in danger at sea.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4534118923383499945-3686713316347779566?l=poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/feeds/3686713316347779566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2009/12/patrolling-barnegat-walt-whitman.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/3686713316347779566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/3686713316347779566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2009/12/patrolling-barnegat-walt-whitman.html' title='Patrolling Barnegat - Walt Whitman'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17510237124879094691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5vmH7DRxg/SraLj_XBHoI/AAAAAAAAAVU/V7HBPeBlcvo/S220/IMG_2535.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4534118923383499945.post-5505407846334531438</id><published>2009-12-24T08:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-24T08:05:44.396-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stanza'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='October'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='alliteration'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='simile'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poem'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gillian Clarke'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='contrast'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='metaphor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='imagery'/><title type='text'>October - Gillian Clarke</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The first stanza of Gillian Clarke's poem 'October' sets an autumnal atmosphere for the poem. The metaphor of 'a dead arm' in line 2 for a branch of a tree that has broken forewarns us of the theme of the poem. Yet there is contrast here too, as the decay is seen against the 'bright' poplar trees whose leaves 'tremble gradually to gold'. Alliteration is skilfully used here as well as in the 'broken branch' and then again in line 4 as a 'sharp shower' turns the face of a stone lion a darker shade. This gloom is underlined at the end of the stanza where the lobelia, seen as the lion's 'dreadlocks', is changing from blue to brown as it dies. The imagery here is rich and describes both the beauty and decay of the season.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;At the start of the second stanza, Clarke confronts us with the blunt phrase 'My friend dead', leaving us in no doubt as to the central focus of 'October'. The setting is the graveyard, where alliteration appears again as the coffin is carried to the 'hawthorn hedge'. Clarke portrays her lost friend as being but a slight burden in her coffin: 'lighter / than hare-bones on men's shoulders'. The mourners have 'stony' faces, echoing the statue of the lion from the first stanza. Rain mingles with tears, as there is 'weeping in the air'; there is a softer feel here than the 'sharp shower' stanza 1. Clarke describes the grave with the simile 'deep as a well', perhaps feeling that her friend will be separated from her by a considerable gulf. 'Thud' describes the heavy fall of the earth into the grave, while in contrast the alliterative 'fall of flowers' is a slow one, emphasising their lightness.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The final line of the second stanza consists merely of the phrase 'fall of flowers', and the opening line of the third and final stanza is indented to appear as a continuation of the preceding line, thus forming a stronger link between the second and third stanzas. This final stanza has a tremendous feeling of speed and urgency that is in sharp contrast to the initial part of the poem. Clarke's reaction to her friend's death is that of feeling a need to accomplish as much as possible before the time of her own death. In lines 12 to 13 of the poem she describes how 'the pen / runs faster than wind's white steps over grass'. Her pen is personified, and again alliteration creates a vivid image in 'wind's white steps'. The statement in line 14 'For a while health feels like pain' gives the impression that her grief for her friend was hard to bear at first. This feeling, however, was followed by 'panic', and the pace of the stanza increases again with phrases such as 'running the fields' and 'the racing leaves'. Clarke is desperate to capture the fleeting images of nature: 'holding that robin's eye / in the laurel'. Comparison with the speed of the wind is made once again in the simile of line 18: 'I must write like the wind'. Clarke ends her poem with a sense that she can win the struggle against time and the moment of her death as she continues writing, 'winning ground'.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;'October' is a compact poem that gathers pace as it moves forward, beginning with leaves 'gradually' turning gold and ending with the need to 'write like the wind'. Out of the decay of the season of autumn and the sadness at the death of a friend comes motivation and the urgency to write faster and put the transient images of the changing seasons into words before time runs out. Language is used here to create powerful imagery with alliteration, metaphor, simile and contrast all playing a part. 'October' is a skilfully constructed poem that imparts a sense of using every available moment of life to the full.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4534118923383499945-5505407846334531438?l=poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/feeds/5505407846334531438/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2009/12/october-gillian-clarke.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/5505407846334531438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/5505407846334531438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2009/12/october-gillian-clarke.html' title='October - Gillian Clarke'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17510237124879094691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5vmH7DRxg/SraLj_XBHoI/AAAAAAAAAVU/V7HBPeBlcvo/S220/IMG_2535.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4534118923383499945.post-5649712396099897559</id><published>2009-12-20T06:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-20T06:48:12.284-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Simon Armitage'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kid'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='alliteration'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='assonance'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poem'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Robin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='imagery'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Batman'/><title type='text'>Kid - Simon Armitage</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;From the first word of the poem we know that there is a connection here with Batman, and reading on we discover that the narrator here is his sidekick, Robin, now grown up and brimming with confidence.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;This is a terrifically fast-paced poem, conveying a sense of the energy and exuberance of youth. The repetition of words ending in -er at the end of each of the twenty-four lines adds to the feeling of speed, with one line rushing into the next.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The poem is packed with witty, self-assured language, plays on words that leave us in no doubt that Robin is taking over the major role from Batman. Abandoned by the 'father figure' that he no longer needs, Robin tells us that he has now 'turned the corner'. He doesn't need to play second fiddle any more, as he tells us in line fourteen 'I'm not playing ball boy any longer'. He has cast off his garish green and red clothes and made his own choice of 'jeans and crew-neck jumper'. He paints a sad picture of Batman, now alone or 'without a shadow', with Robin taking over the role of hero: he triumphantly ends the poem with 'now I'm the real boy wonder.'&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Taking a closer look at the language, Armitage has made skilful, witty use of imagery in this poem. There is the alliteration of 'let me loose to wander leeward' overlapping the assonance of 'leeward, freely' in lines 2 to 3 and the idiomatic 'let the cat out on that caper' in line 9. The twelfth and thirteenth lines present us with whole strings of hyphenated phrases that seem to rush along at breakneck speed: 'Holy robin-redbreast-nest-egg-shocker!' to describe Robin's reaction to Batman's brief affair with a married woman where he claimed expenses for dating her. The irony here too is the reference to 'robin-redbreast', as it appears that it was Robin himself who exposed Batman's behaviour in this incident.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;In lines 20 to 21 we are presented with the image of Batman 'stewing over chicken giblets' – a clever metaphorical play on words, as Robin builds up a pitiful picture of Batman, now a fallen figure, not even having enough to eat, 'punching the palm of your hand all winter'. In the last line he audaciously refers to the formerly revered hero as 'baby' before making his final 'boy wonder' statement.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Armitage shows us here that even a superhero does not prevail for ever; the trusty sidekick grows up, builds up strength and confidence, and is soon ready to take over the leading role. It's a poem that any younger brother or downtrodden son with a domineering father can take inspiration from. Perhaps any hero-worshipping teenager, aspiring to be famous in one way or another, will find a theme to relate to here. As for the heroes themselves, be warned – one day, someone else is going to take over!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4534118923383499945-5649712396099897559?l=poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/feeds/5649712396099897559/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2009/12/kid-simon-armitage.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/5649712396099897559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/5649712396099897559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2009/12/kid-simon-armitage.html' title='Kid - Simon Armitage'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17510237124879094691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5vmH7DRxg/SraLj_XBHoI/AAAAAAAAAVU/V7HBPeBlcvo/S220/IMG_2535.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4534118923383499945.post-7306737501279397437</id><published>2009-12-18T09:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-18T09:12:46.710-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rhyme'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dramatic monologue'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='iambic pentameter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='enjambement'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poem'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Robert Browning'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='My Last Duchess'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rhyming couplets'/><title type='text'>My Last Duchess - Robert Browning</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;In his dramatic monologue 'My Last Duchess', written in 1842, Robert Browning gives us a glimpse into the world of Alfonso, Duke of Ferrara, in the sixteenth century. Ferrara is a city in what is now northern Italy. Alfonso was a real person, but the situation described in this poem is fictional. The Duke is addressing an envoy from a Count and is showing him a portrait of his former wife.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;In the opening line, the Duke states plainly that the painting is of his 'last Duchess'. His comment in the second line that she is 'looking as if she were alive' gives the impression that this is a masterpiece, but as we read on we realize that there is a more sinister meaning to this phrase. The artist referred to, Fra Pandolf, is a fictional one. The Duke explains that he is the only one who shows off the portrait by drawing back the curtains that normally cover it. Everyone who sees it comments on the 'depth and passion' in the facial expression of the Duchess, and wonders what the reason for it was. The Duke refers to her expression as a 'spot of joy', and we begin to understand his attitude as he tells the envoy that he was not the cause of it: the artist was. The Duke imagines the compliments that Fra Pandolf might have paid to the Duchess as he was painting: 'Paint/Must never hope to reproduce the faint/Half-flush that dies along her throat.' It is clear that the Duke disapproved of his wife's reactions to such remarks, as he says that she was 'too soon made glad'.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The Duke's comment that 'her looks went everywhere' (line 24) suggests that he could not tolerate the fact that the Duchess delighted in beauty and appreciated gifts from others. He recalls that she considered his 'favour at her breast' no more important than the setting of the sun or a present of cherries from the orchard. He admits that she was right to thank people for gifts, but resents the fact that she did not seem value his gift to her, his 'nine-hundred-years-old name' above anything else.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;On two occasions the Duke mentions the idea of stooping to explain to his former wife what it was that displeased him about her (lines 34 and 42-43). This clearly shows that he considered himself to be far above her. His language is very direct when he tells the envoy that he might have said to her 'Just this/or that in you disgusts me'. Again, in lines 39-40, the Duke refers to how the Duchess might 'let/herself be lessoned', leaving us in no doubt as to his attitude towards her. She is seen as an inferior being that would need to be taught how to behave, almost like an unruly child. He admits that she smiled when she saw him, but comments that she did the same to everyone she saw. As this went on, the Duke could no longer bear her behavior and 'gave commands;/Then all smiles stopped together' (lines 45-46). It soon becomes obvious that the Duchess did not merely cease to smile, but ceased to live: the Duke's orders had been to kill her. Once more he says 'There she stands/As if alive', and we are in no doubt this time that she is no longer alive.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The Duke's comments on his former wife are over and he asks the envoy to come downstairs with him. Only at this point is the purpose of the envoy's visit made clear: the Duke wishes to marry the Count's daughter, and the dowry is being discussed. Before they leave the upstairs room, however, the Duke draws the envoy's attention to another painting. This one, again by a fictional artist (Claus of Innsbruck) depicts Neptune 'Taming a sea-horse'. There seems to be a clear parallel here with the concept of the Duke 'taming' his last Duchess.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Browning's use of the dramatic monologue is of course ideal for emphasizing the Duke's dominant role in this situation. His is the only voice we hear, and his view of his relationship with his former wife is the one we are given. Our impression of the Duke is one of arrogance, intolerance, jealousy and cruelty. Does a wife who has looked at others and been generous with her thanks deserve to die? We are told (line 31) that on some occasions she merely blushed on meeting people when she went out for a ride; this would seem to suggest shyness and modesty. She appears to have been a lady who felt it right to express gratitude or smile in a friendly way, and we are left with the feeling that the Duke was a proud and ruthless man who over-reacted to his wife's charming manner.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Browning has composed his poem in rhyming couplets with iambic pentameter (ten syllables to a line, with stressed and unstressed syllables alternating). The use of enjambement, where one line flows into the next without a period, gives a more natural, conversational feel to the poem. Without this, the use of rhyme might have seemed a little too contrived. The poem is virtually devoid of metaphors and similes: as the Duke tells the envoy, he has no 'skill in speech'. The dashes in particular give the impression that thoughts are occurring to the Duke spontaneously as he speaks.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The use of the word 'you' throughout the poem may make us feel that the Duke is addressing us personally as we read, since it does not become clear until the final few lines that he is talking to an envoy. We should remember that at this time 'you' was actually a polite form of address, as the familiar form 'thee or 'thou' was also in use.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Browning has, in 'My Last Duchess', skilfully portrayed a domineering character, full of his own self-importance, in the Duke. It is hard to read the poem without feeling compassion for the Duchess who died at his hand, apparently for having a warm, friendly and polite manner. I am left wondering how the next Duchess was to fare, and whether there was hope for a little more tolerance.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4534118923383499945-7306737501279397437?l=poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/feeds/7306737501279397437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-last-duchess-robert-browning.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/7306737501279397437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/7306737501279397437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-last-duchess-robert-browning.html' title='My Last Duchess - Robert Browning'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17510237124879094691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5vmH7DRxg/SraLj_XBHoI/AAAAAAAAAVU/V7HBPeBlcvo/S220/IMG_2535.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4534118923383499945.post-2458013900687194115</id><published>2009-12-17T12:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-17T12:41:01.493-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='extended metaphor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stanza'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='personification'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='alliteration'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='assonance'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poem'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gillian Clarke'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cold Knap Lake'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='half rhyme'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rhyming couplets'/><title type='text'>Cold Knap Lake - Gillian Clarke</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Gillian Clarke's poem 'Cold Knap Lake' centres around a childhood memory of a girl almost drowning in a lake in Glamorgan (South Wales). The poet, with her parents, 'watched a crowd' of people pull the girl out of the water. It seemed at first that they were too late: the girl's lips were blue and she 'lay for dead'. The metaphor 'dressed in water's long green silk' tells us that she was covered in weeds from the lake.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;In the second stanza, Clarke describes her mother as a 'heroine' as she knelt down to resuscitate the girl. The act of kneeling, 'her red head bowed', perhaps suggests a religious act. The mother seems to have been part of the whole rescue operation, 'her wartime cotton frock soaked'. The mention of her red hair is in sharp contrast to the girl's blue lips and gives a feeling of life. Clarke was obviously struck by the idea of her mother reviving 'a stranger's child' with 'her breath'. The crowd of onlookers dare not speak but are compelled to watch, as Clarke tells us in the alliterative phrase 'drawn by the dread of it'.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The third stanza tells us that the girl began breathing; 'bleating' suggests the idea of a baby animal calling for its mother. She is now 'rosy in my mother's hands', the color assuring that she is alive. The poet's father took the girl back to her home; we are told that she came from a poor family. Rather than expressing gratitude for the fact that she survived, her parents 'thrashed' her for having got herself into such danger.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The question 'Was I there?' that opens the fourth stanza signals a change in the poem. It stands out, as it is the shortest line in the entire poem and comes at the beginning of a stanza. It suggests that the poet, now of course an adult, is unsure as to whether she actually saw the girl being beaten or whether this is something her father told her about. The following five lines of the stanza form one long question that centres around an extended metaphor where the waters of the lake represent the memory. This second question refers to the 'troubled surface' of both the mind and the water. The imagery here is rich, from the alliteration of 'surface something else/shadowy' continuing with the personification of the 'dipped fingers of willows', which links back to the fingers of the child in the water. The 'satiny mud blooms' of line 18 are reminiscent of 'water's long green silk' in the first stanza. The 'cloudiness' of the muddy water is a symbol of the haziness of our memories. The assonance in the phrase 'treading heavy webs' in the following line creates a vivid image where it is the webbed feet of swans that are disturbing the water, just as certain events provoke unclear thoughts about the past in our minds. The stanza and the extended question close with the evocative sounds of the swans' wings that 'beat and whistle'. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The poem ends with a pair of rhyming couplets:&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;'All lost things lie under closing water&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;in that lake with the poor man's daughter.'&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;'Lost things' suggests memories that we can no longer recall, buried deep in our minds. The final line connects back to the initial focus of the poem, the girl who almost drowned. Alliteration of 'All lost things lie ... in that lake' serves to tie together the ideas of the memory and the drowning incident. 'Water' and 'daughter' are in fact the only rhyming words that appear in successive lines in the entire poem. In the first stanza, we could consider 'lake' and 'silk' (lines 3 and 4) as a half rhyme. Stanza two has 'earth' at the end of the opening line and 'breath' at the end of the fourth line, another half rhyme. The third stanza's first line ends with 'bleating' and its last line with 'drowning'. The fourth stanza does have two rhyming words, 'there' and 'air', one at the end of its first line and the other at the end of its last line, and each is the final word in a question. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The pattern of the stanzas is an interesting one, as the first and third stanzas have four lines each and the second and fourth six lines each, with the rhyming couplets standing out at the end of the poem. The lines vary in length, with the shortest one, 'Was I there?', drawing attention at the start of the fourth stanza.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;In 'Cold Knap Lake', Gillian Clarke has created a fascinating poem that seems to focus on one particular dramatic event she witnessed in her childhood but develops into an expression of how our memories of the past are a part of us that may fade or play tricks on us with the passage of time.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4534118923383499945-2458013900687194115?l=poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/feeds/2458013900687194115/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2009/12/cold-knap-lake-gillian-clarke.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/2458013900687194115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/2458013900687194115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2009/12/cold-knap-lake-gillian-clarke.html' title='Cold Knap Lake - Gillian Clarke'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17510237124879094691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5vmH7DRxg/SraLj_XBHoI/AAAAAAAAAVU/V7HBPeBlcvo/S220/IMG_2535.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4534118923383499945.post-2757863072426717162</id><published>2009-12-13T01:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-13T01:35:19.581-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stanza'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='alliteration'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='assonance'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poem'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gillian Clarke'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Baby-sitting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='metaphor'/><title type='text'>Baby-sitting - Gillian Clarke</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Gillian Clarke's poem centres on her experience of baby-sitting for a baby that is asleep but will wake up to find the baby-sitter, a stranger, and feel that it has been abandoned by the mother.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The first stanza opens with the baby-sitter sitting in a 'strange room', telling us that this must be the first time that the sitter has looked after that baby. She is waiting for 'the wrong baby' to wake up, and so we assume that the baby-sitter is a mother herself. Speaking in the first person, the poet tells us quite openly that she doesn't love the baby, and this emphasizes the fact that she is a stranger. She goes on to describe the baby in quite an endearing way; snuffling in its sleep, it is fair haired and not unattractive. The narrator, however, actually feels afraid that the baby will hate her when confronted with her on waking; 'she will shout / her hot midnight rage' conveys the idea of angry cries and screams. The description of the baby towards the end of the stanza, now that it is no longer sleeping peacefully, becomes less flattering. Her nose will run 'disgustingly', and the baby-sitter will find the smell of her breath unpleasant.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;At the start of the second stanza, the baby-sitter imagines that the baby, on seeing her, will feel that she has been deserted by her mother: 'To her, I will represent absolute / Abandonment.' The baby's situation and feelings are then compared to other extremely lonely situations, such as a lover alone in bed, 'cold in lonely / Sheets.' The baby's loneliness will be worse than this, worse even than the sorrow of a woman visiting her husband in the terminal ward of a hospital. Sleep is depicted by the metaphor 'the monstrous land' from which the baby will awaken, crying. It will expect to be breastfed by the mother: 'stretching for milk-familiar comforting', but instead will be held by a stranger. The repetition in the final line of the phrase 'It will not come' serves to illustrate the fact that there is no bond between the baby-sitter and the baby; no comfort will be found.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The poem consists of two ten-line stanzas with lines of slightly varying length. There is no rhyming, and in fact many of the lines run straight into the following one, so that breaks occur frequently in the middle of the line, particularly in the first stanza.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Alliteration and assonance are used in the poet's description of the baby: 'She is sleeping a snuffly / roseate, bubbling sleep;' 'absolute / Abandonment' in the second stanza uses alliteration to emphasize the fact that the baby feels deserted by its mother. 'Beside the bleached bone' combines alliteration and metaphor to create a harrowing image of a person dying in hospital.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Gillian Clarke has painted a sensitive picture here, seeing the situation from the point of view of the baby, imagining exactly how it must feel on awakening to find a stranger instead of its mother. She also understands how the baby-sitter will react, actually feeling fear because the baby will not welcome her presence. It is a convincing picture, giving an unusual slant on what to us is probably a commonplace situation.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;(Note: I have referred to the baby here as 'it' to try to avoid confusion between the baby-sitter and the baby; in the poem itself, the baby is referred to as 'she'.)&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4534118923383499945-2757863072426717162?l=poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/feeds/2757863072426717162/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2009/12/baby-sitting-gillian-clarke.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/2757863072426717162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/2757863072426717162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2009/12/baby-sitting-gillian-clarke.html' title='Baby-sitting - Gillian Clarke'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17510237124879094691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5vmH7DRxg/SraLj_XBHoI/AAAAAAAAAVU/V7HBPeBlcvo/S220/IMG_2535.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4534118923383499945.post-6486300783739194971</id><published>2009-12-11T12:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-11T12:57:15.474-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Marilyn Monroe'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stanza'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poem'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Carol Ann Duffy'/><title type='text'>Before you were mine - Carol Ann Duffy</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;This is a delightful poem written by a daughter about how she imagines her mother's life to have been in her teenage years, ten years before her daughter was born.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The first line initially seems a little confusing as we read 'I'm ten years away from the corner you laugh on', but it becomes clear that the narrator (the daughter) is looking at a photograph of her mother with three of her friends. They 'shriek at the pavement' and seem to be sharing a great joke, young and carefree. As the daughter looks at her mother's dress blowing round her legs in the photo, she is reminded of Marilyn Monroe: the one-word sentence 'Marilyn' that closes the first stanza tells us how glamorous the future mother looked as a teenager.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;As the second stanza begins, the narrator reminds us that all thoughts of her are still distant as the girl in the photo goes dancing 'in the ballroom with the thousand eyes': it sounds as though all these eyes were on her mother-to-be. She imagines how her mother must have danced, and can understand that if the right person walked her home, she would have been in a dream-world the following day: 'those fizzy, movie tomorrows' conjures up the magical feeling perfectly. The daughter also knows that her grandmother would have been waiting 'with a hiding' (a spanking) if her mother was late home, but that this would have been a small price to pay for such a night out.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;In the third stanza, the daughter refers to the moment of her birth with the phrase 'my loud, possessive yell', conveying the idea that this was a pivotal, life-changing moment. She realizes that the ten years preceding her birth, as her mother approached adulthood, must have been the best ones. She can remember playing with an old pair of her mother's 'high-heeled red shoes, relics,' and pictures her mother walking in them, strangely referring to her 'ghost' as she approaches. Her imagination takes on the senses of both sight and smell as the picture becomes more vivid: 'till I see you, clear as scent'; she refers to her mother as 'sweetheart', and imagines that she would have had love bites on her neck.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The fourth and final stanza begins with an expressive Cha cha cha! in italics, and the daughter remembers how her mother taught her to dance on the way home from church. There is the sense of the forbidden here, echoing the idea of her mother going home late to a punishment perhaps. These dancing lessons seem to have taken place when the daughter was still a child, as she says 'Even then / I wanted the bold girl winking in Portobello'. The last two lines of the poem describe the mother's love as glamorous, and in the final one, the daughter captures the essence of her mother's teenage years where she used to 'sparkle and waltz and laugh', creating a picture of a vivacious, carefree young woman.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The poem is a four stanza one, each stanza being made up of five lines, with some variation in length of line. The first two stanzas focus purely on the life of the mother before the daughter was born, whilst the third stanza opens with a reference to the daughter's birth and then moves to the daughter's vision of her mother in her earlier life, thus providing a link with the previous stanzas. The fourth stanza begins with a recollection from the daughter's younger life with her mother, and then takes us back once again to the mother's days of dancing.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;It's refreshing to read a poem in which a daughter enthuses over her mother, imagining how full of life and fun she must have been before she was born. Her admiration of her mother is conveyed in a delightfully direct way, and words such as 'shriek', 'sparkle' and 'fizzy' conjure up the lightheartedness of youth. I never tire of going back to read it again and to enjoy the way in which a daughter can see her mother as a young person, just like herself.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4534118923383499945-6486300783739194971?l=poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/feeds/6486300783739194971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2009/12/before-you-were-mine-carol-ann-duffy.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/6486300783739194971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/6486300783739194971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2009/12/before-you-were-mine-carol-ann-duffy.html' title='Before you were mine - Carol Ann Duffy'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17510237124879094691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5vmH7DRxg/SraLj_XBHoI/AAAAAAAAAVU/V7HBPeBlcvo/S220/IMG_2535.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4534118923383499945.post-2976332268832174797</id><published>2009-12-09T11:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-09T12:00:25.766-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poem'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ben Johnson'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='On my first sonne'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rhyming couplets'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poet'/><title type='text'>On My First Sonne - Ben Johnson</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;This outpouring of a father's grief on the death of his young son, although written almost four hundred years ago, is so poignant that we can easily identify with the poet's experience.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The fact that the poem was written several hundred years ago means that the language is not always particularly easy to understand. We know from the title that the child that has died was the poet's first-born son, so losing him must have been an especially painful experience. The first line tells us that Johnson considered him to be the child of his 'right hand', signifying the importance of the role that the child would have played had he grown older. The second line reveals the idea that the poet had enormous hopes of his son. We begin to sense how religious a person Johnson was as he expresses the notion that having such great hopes was actually a sin.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The following line continues the religious theme, as Johnson considers that his son was actually lent to him by God: 'Seven yeeres tho'wert lent to me,' and we now know that the child died at the age of seven. Johnson thus believes that all life is a gift from God, and that he had to give his child back to God at this tender age. In line 5 Johnson pours out his grief in the phrase 'O, could I loose all father', wishing that he did not have to take on the role of a father who loves his son so dearly, because it is so painful to mourn a child. However, the poet then goes on to say 'For why / Will man lament the state he should envie?' meaning that it is strange to grieve over death, as death is something to be envied, something to look forward to. He explains this feeling in line 7 when he says that death is an escape from 'worlds, and fleshes rage', an escape from the turmoil and anger that we encounter throughout our lives. Then in line 8 Johnson says that even if there are no problems in life, death is at least an escape from age, in other words old age.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;'Rest in soft peace' is a gentler version of the usual 'Rest in peace' that is inscribed on tombstones, expressing very tender feelings for a young child. Johnson goes on to say that if anyone were to ask who was buried in that grave, the answer should be that it is Ben Johnson's 'best piece of poetrie': the best thing that he ever created, better in actual fact than any of his poems. Johnson concludes his poem by making a vow that whatever or whoever he loves he will not become too attached to in future: 'may never like too much', meaning that he would not find it so painful to lose another person if he remained more detached from them. At that time in history of course infant deaths were far more common than they are now, and Johnson must have feared that if he were to have more children they too might not reach adulthood.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;This is a concise twelve-line poem with six pairs of rhyming couplets. The middle section, from line 5, is the most emotional one, but Johnson tries to be philosophical about his grief, seeing death as an escape from a troubled world. A calmer atmosphere pervades in the last four lines, where the poet is in positive mood, seeing his son as his finest creation. We know from the final line that he never wishes to feel such intense pain again if another family member were to die. Here is the full text of the poem:&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;On my first Sonne&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Farewell, thou child of my right hand, and joy;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;My sinne was too much hope of thee, lov'd boy;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Seven yeeres tho' wert lent to me, and I thee pay,&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Exacted by thy fate, on the just day.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Oh, I could loose all father, now. For why&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Will man lament the state he should envie?&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;To have so soone scap'd worlds, and fleshes rage.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;And, if no other miserie, yet age?&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Rest in soft peace, and ask'd, say here doth lye&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Ben. Johnson his best piece of poetrie.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;For whose sake, hence-forth, all his vowes be such,&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;As what he loves may never like too much.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Ben Johnson&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;1616&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4534118923383499945-2976332268832174797?l=poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/feeds/2976332268832174797/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2009/12/on-my-first-sonne-ben-johnson.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/2976332268832174797'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/2976332268832174797'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2009/12/on-my-first-sonne-ben-johnson.html' title='On My First Sonne - Ben Johnson'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17510237124879094691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5vmH7DRxg/SraLj_XBHoI/AAAAAAAAAVU/V7HBPeBlcvo/S220/IMG_2535.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4534118923383499945.post-1807571391910939485</id><published>2009-12-06T03:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-06T03:12:14.325-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Simon Armitage'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stanza'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poem'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Education for Leisure'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hitcher'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Carol Ann Duffy'/><title type='text'>Education for Leisure - Carol Ann Duffy</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Carol Ann Duffy's poem 'Education for Leisure' immediately shocks us with its opening line 'Today I'm going to kill something. Anything.' As we continue through the first stanza, we realize that the narrator is an attention-seeker, someone who wants to 'play God', someone who wants to relieve boredom in no uncertain terms.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The first thing to be killed is a fly, squashed against the window. Almost anyone could do this, so we are not taken aback by the action. The cat, however, hides away, more sensitive to an approaching threat. Then the goldfish goes down the toilet, or 'bog' to use Duffy's word here, and we begin to wonder how far this is going to go. The budgie starts to panic. In the final stanza it seems that perhaps the cat and the bird met the same fate as the fish, as 'there is nothing left to kill'. The narrator takes the bread-knife and goes out into the street; the ominous final phrase 'I touch your arm' strikes us all the more forcefully because it is the first time that the reader has been addressed directly, and therefore threatened personally, during the entire poem.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The title 'Education for Leisure' highlights the plight of those who, having gone through their schooling and been pressured to pass exams, are then unable to find a job; it is as though they have been educated just to have free time, and the result here is an extreme case of the effect of boredom, of being ignored. The narrator here is suffering from delusion, 'breathing out talent' on the window, believing himself to be a genius who could 'change the world'. Not having been given the opportunity to do so, he takes matters into his own hands by deciding to kill. This is the most powerful option open to him. We understand that he is on the dole from the sentence 'Once a fortnight I walk the two miles into town for signing on.' Referring to his signature as his 'autograph' reminds us that this is a person who craved fame but found only emptiness in his life. The sentence 'I see that it is good' following the flushing away of the goldfish is a biblical reference, echoing the narrator's idea to 'play God' in the first stanza. As we come to the final stanza, he phones a radio announcer in desperation and tries to convince him that he is a 'superstar'.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;It is a little surprising that the poem is so tidily organized into five stanzas of four lines each, but this perhaps serves to emphasize the fact that the narrator's mind has in fact planned a certain course of action. The straightforward, matter-of-fact language is underlined by a number of very short and concise sentences such as 'I pull the chain.'&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;This is an interesting poem to compare with Simon Armitage's 'Hitcher'. The latter deals with a person who can no longer face the daily grind and resorts to violence when confronted with a hitchhiker who seems to have all the freedom he could wish for. Both poems portray extreme behavior by people who do not somehow fit into what society demands that they be: on the one hand, boredom is intolerable and inspires senseless killing; on the other, not being able to escape the rat race leads to a desperate outburst of anger and violence.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4534118923383499945-1807571391910939485?l=poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/feeds/1807571391910939485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2009/12/education-for-leisure-carol-ann-duffy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/1807571391910939485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/1807571391910939485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2009/12/education-for-leisure-carol-ann-duffy.html' title='Education for Leisure - Carol Ann Duffy'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17510237124879094691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5vmH7DRxg/SraLj_XBHoI/AAAAAAAAAVU/V7HBPeBlcvo/S220/IMG_2535.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4534118923383499945.post-632776613988431967</id><published>2009-12-04T08:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-04T08:59:18.059-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='personification'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rhyming couplet'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='assonance'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poem'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Shakespeare'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Anne Hathaway'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='contrast'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='metaphor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='imagery'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Carol Ann Duffy'/><title type='text'>Anne Hathaway - Carol Ann Duffy</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;n her poem entitled 'Anne Hathaway', Carol Ann Duffy adopts the persona of Shakespeare's widow. The introductory quote from Shakespeare's will 'Item I gyve unto my wife my second best bed' reminds us that Shakespeare's best bed was reserved for guests, and that Anne inherited the one that she and her husband slept in. This bed becomes the focus of the fourteen-line poem.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;In the opening two lines, Duffy uses a metaphor to express the magic of the bed in which Shakespeare made love to Anne: it was 'a spinning world / of forests, castles, torchlight, clifftops, seas'. More metaphors follow in lines three and four as Anne Hathaway recalls their lovemaking; she expresses the notion that Shakespeare would 'dive for pearls', and she describes the sweet words he said to her as 'shooting stars' that landed on her lips when he kissed her.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;From line five to line ten Duffy uses imagery in a fascinating way that relates directly to the fact that Shakespeare was a writer. Anne sees her body as 'a softer rhyme to his ... now assonance', assonance being a figure of speech in which the same vowel sound is repeated. Then follows the charming personification of his touch, portrayed as 'a verb dancing in the centre of a noun', giving a feeling of grace and delicacy. Anne says that she sometimes dreamed that Shakespeare had 'written' her, wishing that she herself were part of his artistic creation. She metaphorically imagines the bed as 'a page beneath his writer's hands'. She sees their lovemaking as drama enacted through 'touch', 'scent' and 'taste'.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;In lines eleven and twelve a contrast is created to the early magic of the poem in the description of how the guests, in the best bed, 'dozed on, / dribbling their prose'; no poetic lovemaking for them! But line twelve then switches to Anne's alliterative description of Shakespeare as 'My living laughing love'. She tells us in line thirteen how she treasures her memories of him with the metaphor 'I hold him in .the casket of my widow's head'. The final line compares this act to the way in which Shakespeare held Anne so lovingly in that second-best bed. The last two lines are a rhyming couplet, just as the last two lines of a Shakesperian sonnet would be, ending the poem with a sense of unity.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Duffy's 'Anne Hathaway' is a poem full of rich imagery, the tale of a woman who remembers her husband in a wonderful, loving way with no hint of sorrow. It is beautiful to read and to dwell on the magical pictures that are painted within it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4534118923383499945-632776613988431967?l=poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/feeds/632776613988431967/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2009/12/anne-hathaway-carol-ann-duffy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/632776613988431967'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/632776613988431967'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2009/12/anne-hathaway-carol-ann-duffy.html' title='Anne Hathaway - Carol Ann Duffy'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17510237124879094691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5vmH7DRxg/SraLj_XBHoI/AAAAAAAAAVU/V7HBPeBlcvo/S220/IMG_2535.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4534118923383499945.post-8428122791936152916</id><published>2009-12-01T10:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-05-20T12:07:30.922-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stanza'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rhythm'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Chidiock Tichborne'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poem'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='metaphor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rhyme scheme'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='imagery'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tichborne'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poet'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='elegy'/><title type='text'>Tichborne's Elegy - Chidiock Tichborne</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="font: 14.0px Times New Roman; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;Composed the night before his execution, Tichborne's Elegy piles metaphor upon metaphor to express his regret and frustration upon his life being cut short whilst he is still in his prime. He was only twenty-eight years old at the time, but was sentenced to death because he had been involved in a conspiracy to assassinate Queen Elizabeth I. Written in the first person, almost every line begins with the word 'I' or 'My', showing us how self-absorbed the poet was in his last hours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Times New Roman; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 15.0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 14.0px Times New Roman; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;The poem comprises three stanzas, each of six lines. The word 'but', appearing in each of the first four lines, might be translated as 'just' in contemporary English. The first line tells us that although the poet is young, his life is a 'frost', cold and joyless, and full of worries because of his actions and his impending death. The following line refers again to his life, or his youth, which should have been the most fulfilling period but instead is 'a dish of pain', a time that is hard to bear. Then there is an agricultural metaphor, in which the poet expresses the fact that his 'crop of corn' has actually yielded a field of weeds (tares), meaning that nothing worthwhile has resulted from his short life. Line 4 explains that the only way the poet has benefited from his life is in hoping to make an achievement, but he has not in fact done so. The following line begins 'The day is past', a metaphor meaning that the poet's life has ended, and concludes 'and yet I saw no sun' – nothing worthwhile or advantageous has resulted from his life. The final line of the first stanza is identical to the last line of the second and third stanzas, emphasizing the fact that although the poet is alive at the actual time of composing the poem, he knows that his life has virtually come to an end.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Times New Roman; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 15.0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 14.0px Times New Roman; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;The second stanza continues the pattern of metaphors, 'My tale was heard' meaning that the poet has had a life, 'and yet it was not told' expressing the frustration that his life was not lived to the full. Tichborne then compares his life to a tree, where the fruit has ripened and fallen to the ground, because his life is about to end; but 'my leaves are green' tells us that he is still young. This same idea is clearly conveyed in line 9, and line 10 expresses the concept that although the poet 'saw the world', because he was born, he 'was not seen', as nothing positive has come of his short life. Another metaphor follows, 'My thread is cut, and yet it is not spun' telling us that his life is ending even though he has not lived it out. The stanza concludes in exactly the same way as the first one.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Times New Roman; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 15.0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 14.0px Times New Roman; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;The opening of the third and final stanza shows us the the poet considers that he was doomed even before he was born, and that as his life progressed he sensed it was to be cut short. He feels that his life has only just begun and yet it is about to end. Line 17 is a metaphor centred around the image of an hourglass, a little device like an egg-timer through which sand runs from top to bottom in the space of a few minutes. Tichborne knows that because of his youth he should have years of his life left, but his 'glass is run', meaning that the sand has all passed through and his time on earth has run out. Once again, the final line is exactly like that of the first two stanzas.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Times New Roman; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 15.0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 14.0px Times New Roman; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;The poem is regular in its rhythm and rhyme scheme; the repetition or similarity in the structure of many of the lines is offset by the abundant use of metaphors which are the highlight of this work. The poet focusses purely on his own situation here and there is no reference at all to loved ones he is leaving behind or to his fellow conspirators.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Times New Roman; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 15.0px;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 14.0px Times New Roman; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;'Tichborne's Elegy' is a fine poem full of metaphorical imagery. There is perhaps an element of irony in that the poet expresses the idea that he has achieved nothing in his short life, and yet he composed a masterpiece on the eve of his execution. His frustration and deep regret in fact inspired him to do so; to create such a poem when he must have been in the depths of despair is to be wondered at.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Times New Roman; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 15.0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 14.0px Times New Roman; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;Here is the full text of the poem:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Times New Roman; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 15.0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 14.0px Times New Roman; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;My prime of youth is but a frost of cares,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 14.0px Times New Roman; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;My feast of joy is but a dish of pain;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 14.0px Times New Roman; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;My crop of corn is but a field of tares,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 14.0px Times New Roman; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;And all my good is but vain hope of gain.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 14.0px Times New Roman; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;The day is past, and yet I saw no sun;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 14.0px Times New Roman; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;And now I live, and now my life is done.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Times New Roman; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 15.0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 14.0px Times New Roman; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;My tale was heard, and yet it was not told,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 14.0px Times New Roman; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;My fruit is fallen, and yet my leaves are green;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 14.0px Times New Roman; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;My youth is spent, and yet I am not old,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 14.0px Times New Roman; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;I saw the world, and yet I was not seen.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 14.0px Times New Roman; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;My thread is cut, and yet it is not spun;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 14.0px Times New Roman; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;And now I live, and now my life is done.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Times New Roman; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 15.0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 14.0px Times New Roman; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;I sought my death, and found it in my womb,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 14.0px Times New Roman; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;I looked for life and saw it was a shade;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 14.0px Times New Roman; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;I trod the earth, and knew it was my tomb,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 14.0px Times New Roman; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;And now I die, and now I was but made.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 14.0px Times New Roman; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;My glass is full, and now my glass is run;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 14.0px Times New Roman; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;And now I live, and now my life is done.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Times New Roman; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 15.0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 14.0px Times New Roman; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;Chidiock Tichborne&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 14.0px Times New Roman; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;1586&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Times New Roman; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 15.0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4534118923383499945-8428122791936152916?l=poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/feeds/8428122791936152916/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2009/12/tichbornes-elegy-charles-tichborne.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/8428122791936152916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/8428122791936152916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2009/12/tichbornes-elegy-charles-tichborne.html' title='Tichborne&apos;s Elegy - Chidiock Tichborne'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17510237124879094691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5vmH7DRxg/SraLj_XBHoI/AAAAAAAAAVU/V7HBPeBlcvo/S220/IMG_2535.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4534118923383499945.post-1451431144790280726</id><published>2009-11-28T08:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-28T08:58:57.350-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='personified'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mother'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Yeats'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poem'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='contrast'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rhyming couplets'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='metaphorically'/><title type='text'>Song of the Old Mother - W. B. Yeats</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;In his brief and compact ten-line poem, 'Song of the Old Mother', Yeats takes on the persona of an elderly woman who contrasts her harsh, unrelenting daily routine with that of carefree young people.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;In the first four lines, the old mother tells us that she has to get up at sunrise and work until it gets dark. The word 'and' is used seven times in these initial four lines, emphasising the fact that the woman has a string of household chores to carry out, one after the other. The fact that she says 'I must scrub and bake and sweep' gives the impression that she has no choice in the matter, and probably does not enjoy these endless chores. In the fourth line the stars are personified: they 'blink and peep', perhaps to give the old woman a hint that her day's work is finally over.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Over the course of the next four lines, the old mother comments on the life of the young people around her, which is in stark contrast to her own. They have no work to do, but spend their lives in 'idleness'. They don't have to get up early like she does, staying in bed as long as they wish. All they have to worry about is whether the ribbons for their hair and their clothes match each other. It bothers these young girls if the wind merely blows a lock of hair (tress) out of place.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;In the final two lines of the poem, the old mother returns to thoughts of how she has to spend her days: she repeats the word 'must', again leaving us in no doubt that her work is forced upon her. The very last line repeats the phrase 'seed of the fire' from line two, but here it appears to be used metaphorically. The fire is said to be growing weak and cold, but this in fact symbolises what is happening to the woman as her life nears its end.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;There is no outpouring of emotion here, yet we can sense that the old mother feels a degree of injustice. Her own life is so hard whilst that of the young women, who surely have more energy than her, is so carefree.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Yeats uses rhyming couplets in this poem, which has a strong, regular rhythm. The repetitive routine of the old mother's day-to-day life is reflected in the regularity of the poem's rhyme and rhythm. It is a straightforward poem whose message, in the first person, comes over clearly with the use of contrast between the life of an old woman and that of the young girls she sees around her.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;I rise in the dawn, and I kneel and blow&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Till the seed of the fire flicker and glow;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;And then I must scrub and bake and sweep&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Till stars are beginning to blink and peep;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;And the young lie long and dream in their bed&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Of the matching of ribbons for bosom and head,&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;And their day goes over in idleness,&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;And they sigh if the wind lift but a tress:&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;While I must work because I am old,&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;And the seed of the fire gets feeble and cold.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;William Butler Yeats&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;1899&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4534118923383499945-1451431144790280726?l=poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/feeds/1451431144790280726/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2009/11/song-of-old-mother-w-b-yeats.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/1451431144790280726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/1451431144790280726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2009/11/song-of-old-mother-w-b-yeats.html' title='Song of the Old Mother - W. B. Yeats'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17510237124879094691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5vmH7DRxg/SraLj_XBHoI/AAAAAAAAAVU/V7HBPeBlcvo/S220/IMG_2535.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4534118923383499945.post-537434317986550073</id><published>2009-11-26T11:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-26T11:40:00.548-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Simon Armitage'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='extended metaphor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='theme'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stanza'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mother'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poem'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='metaphor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='imagery'/><title type='text'>Mother - Simon Armitage</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The central theme of Simon Armitage's poem 'Mother' is that of the bond between a mother and son, and the moment at which the son finally becomes independent as he embarks upon adult life. The poem is in fact an extended metaphor, as the situation described is that of the mother helping her son to measure up his new house. The son gradually moves further and further away, upstairs, extending the measuring tape, while his mother desperately holds on to the end of the spool.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Armitage begins the poem by saying 'any distance greater than a single span / requires a second pair of hands', recognising from the outset that he still needs his mother. As we are told that it is the measurements of a house that are being taken, Armitage uses metaphors such as 'the acres of the walls, the prairies of the floors' that convey an image of vast empty spaces: it's the first time that he has a house of his own, and there is a sense of adventure, exploring wide open spaces.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The opening line of the second stanza explains that it is the mother that is holding the 'zero-end' of the tape, thus being the stationary base, whilst the son is the one gradually moving away, taking the measurements. This eventually leads to him climbing the stairs, 'leaving', and the unwinding of the tape is seen as a metaphor for the years that the mother and son have spent together. The one-word 'sentences' 'Anchor. Kite.' close the second stanza and it is obvious that the anchor is the mother, whilst the kite is the son, about to fly away and experience independence.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;In the third and final stanza, Armitage describes his tour of the bedrooms as a 'space-walk', once again making this sound like a great adventure. Going up into the loft, he realizes that this is 'breaking-point': the spool of tape has been fully extended, and if the son is to go any further, 'something / has to give'; either the mother or the son will have to let go. The mother, however, is described as pinching 'the last one-hundredth of an inch': we feel how desperately she is trying to hold on, she cannot bear to let her son go. The son, on the other hand, opens a hatch in the roof, knowing that he must keep on going. Outside the 'endless sky' awaits him, and the final brief line tells us that he will 'fall or fly': will success or failure meet him? He has no idea what the future holds, yet knows that he has to take this step and rely purely on his own resources for the first time.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The poem consists of two four-line stanzas and a third stanza of seven lines, of which two are extremely short. The length of lines throughout the whole poem is in fact very uneven, perhaps mirroring the situation where objects being measured are of varying lengths. Sentences, too, range from one brief word to an extension over five lines. Often one line spills over into the next, giving a sense of length of the relationship between mother and son, or of the ever-increasing distance between them as the son moves away.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;It is also noticeable that in the first two stanzas the son directly addresses his mother: 'You come to help me' and 'You at the zero-end'. By the third stanza, however, the focus is on the son himself, and we are conscious of the first-person emphasis in phrases such as 'I space-walk' and then 'I reach / towards a hatch.' He is on his own now.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;This is a carefully constructed poem that makes skilful use of pertinent imagery to convey its theme. The language itself is not emotional, yet we can feel the mother's reluctance and sense the mixture of adventure and trepidation that the son feels as he steps into adulthood. For me it is a masterpiece.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4534118923383499945-537434317986550073?l=poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/feeds/537434317986550073/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2009/11/mother-simon-armitage.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/537434317986550073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/537434317986550073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2009/11/mother-simon-armitage.html' title='Mother - Simon Armitage'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17510237124879094691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5vmH7DRxg/SraLj_XBHoI/AAAAAAAAAVU/V7HBPeBlcvo/S220/IMG_2535.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4534118923383499945.post-7566916406116556133</id><published>2009-11-23T11:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-23T11:08:08.636-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stanza'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rhythm'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Thomas Hardy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poem'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='enjambment'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rhyme scheme'/><title type='text'>The Man He Killed - Thomas Hardy</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 14.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Thomas Hardy's poem 'The Man He Killed' focusses on the senselessness and futility of war, where a man has killed another quite simply because they were fighting on opposing sides in a war.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 14.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Written in the first person from the standpoint of one of the soldiers, the first stanza expresses the idea that the two men who fought would, had they in other circumstances met each other outside a pub, have enjoyed a few drinks ('right many a nipperkin') together. Yet it becomes clear in the second stanza that they in fact met as foot soldiers in a battle, and being confronted with each other, one had to die. The narrator received a bullet but survived, whereas his shot fatally injured the other man.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 14.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The writer falters at the end of the opening line of the third stanza as he tries to justifies his action. Repeating the word 'because', he states that he had to kill the other soldier as he was his enemy. The third line of this stanza features more repetition, this time of the word 'foe' (enemy); the use of phrases such as 'Just so' and 'of course' suggest that the narrator is trying to convince himself that his action was inevitable. The stanza, however, ends with the word 'although', telling us that the writer is not in fact at ease with the idea that he has killed his enemy. Using enjambment to link to the fourth stanza, the narrator reflects on the fact that the soldier he killed probably decided to join the army ('list is short for enlist) because he had no work and had sold his belongings. The narrator understands this, having been in a similar situation himself and having found himself with no alternative but to join the army. It was not a positive decision, but a last resort when there were no other options.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 14.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The final stanza reiterates the main theme of the poem, that war is a strange phenomenon because a soldier finds himself forced to kill a man that he would otherwise have bought a drink for or lent money to, had they met in times of peace. 'Half-a-crown' is the old British money, worth about twelve and a half pence in today's currency. In 1902 that would of course have had considerably more value than it does just over one hundred years later.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 14.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The poem is written in a conversational tone, with speech marks included, making us feel that the soldier is addressing us personally in an informal way, and pleading with us to understand his action in killing his enemy. The language is very straightforward and easy to comprehend with the exception of two or three words. There are five stanzas, each of four lines, all of which are inset to a certain degree other than the third in each stanza, which creates a regular pattern on the page. The rhyme scheme and rhythm are also regular and give the poem quite a fast pace.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 14.0px Times New Roman"&gt;It is easy to appreciate this poem and to identify with the soldier and his feelings, sympathizing with his predicament and sensing that he regrets having had to kill his enemy. We understand that individual soldiers do not necessarily nurture hatred for those they are fighting against, but see them as human beings in circumstances similar to their own, enlisting in order to earn money and suppport a family. But when facing each other at close range, the reality of war kicks in and one of them must kill the other. The narrator here knows that he could easily have been the one to die. The idea that war is nonsensical when seen at the level of ordinary human beings who are obliged to carry out orders is evident throughout the poem.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 14.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Here is the complete text of the poem:&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 14.0px Times New Roman"&gt;&lt;span style="font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;     &lt;/span&gt;'Had he and I but met&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 14.0px Times New Roman"&gt;&lt;span style="font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;By some old ancient inn,&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 14.0px Times New Roman"&gt;We should have sat us down to wet&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 14.0px Times New Roman"&gt;&lt;span style="font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Right many a nipperkin!&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 14.0px Times New Roman"&gt;&lt;span style="font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;     &lt;/span&gt;'But ranged as infantry,&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 14.0px Times New Roman"&gt;&lt;span style="font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;And staring face to face,&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 14.0px Times New Roman"&gt;I shot at him as he at me,&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 14.0px Times New Roman"&gt;&lt;span style="font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;And killed him in his place.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 14.0px Times New Roman"&gt;&lt;span style="font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;     &lt;/span&gt;'I shot him dead because -&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 14.0px Times New Roman"&gt;&lt;span style="font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;     &lt;/span&gt;Because he was my foe,&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 14.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Just so: my foe of course he was;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 14.0px Times New Roman"&gt;&lt;span style="font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;     &lt;/span&gt;That's clear enough; although&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 14.0px Times New Roman"&gt;&lt;span style="font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;     &lt;/span&gt;'He thought he'd 'list, perhaps,&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 14.0px Times New Roman"&gt;&lt;span style="font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;     &lt;/span&gt;Off-hand like – just as I -&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 14.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Was out of work – had sold his traps -&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 14.0px Times New Roman"&gt;&lt;span style="font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;     &lt;/span&gt;No other reason why.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 14.0px Times New Roman"&gt;&lt;span style="font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;     &lt;/span&gt;'Yes; quaint and curious war is!&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 14.0px Times New Roman"&gt;&lt;span style="font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;     &lt;/span&gt;You shoot a fellow down&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 14.0px Times New Roman"&gt;You'd treat if met where any bar is,&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 14.0px Times New Roman"&gt;&lt;span style="font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;     &lt;/span&gt;Or help to half-a-crown.'&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 14.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Thomas Hardy&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 14.0px Times New Roman"&gt;1902&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;    &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4534118923383499945-7566916406116556133?l=poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/feeds/7566916406116556133/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2009/11/man-he-killed-thomas-hardy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/7566916406116556133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/7566916406116556133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2009/11/man-he-killed-thomas-hardy.html' title='The Man He Killed - Thomas Hardy'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17510237124879094691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5vmH7DRxg/SraLj_XBHoI/AAAAAAAAAVU/V7HBPeBlcvo/S220/IMG_2535.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4534118923383499945.post-2819032336717070824</id><published>2009-11-21T11:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-21T12:03:12.634-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Seamus Heaney'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Death of a Naturalist'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='personification'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='alliteration'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='onomatopoeia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='simile'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poem'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='assonanace'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='contrast'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='metaphor'/><title type='text'>Death of a Naturalist - Seamus Heaney</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Heaney's poem 'Death of a Naturalist' focuses on his experience of collecting and watching frogspawn as a child, and his reaction when the spawn turned into frogs.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;In the first ten lines of the poem Heaney uses vivid imagery to describe the setting and its sights, smell and sounds. The phrase 'flax-dam festered' in the opening line combines assonance  and alliteration, and begins to create the atmosphere of decay. 'Heavy headed' at the end of the second line again uses assonance and alliteration in one phrase to describe the flax that had rotted. The heaviness is emphasised further in the third line, where the flax is 'weighted down by huge sods'. The idea that hot weather has caused the decay is expressed in line four: 'Daily it sweltered in the punishing sun', a personification of the oppressiveness of the sun. A gentler image focusing on sound is created in 'Bubbles gargled delicately' in line five. The movement of flies is described with a metaphor: 'bluebottles / wove a strong gauze of sound around the smell', a fascinating image combining different senses. Line seven hints at the beauty of the scene with its 'dragonflies, spotted butterflies'. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;In line eight Heaney makes the first mention of frogspawn with the metaphor 'warm thick slobber', which as a child was 'best of all' to him among the offerings of nature. In line nine he uses the simile 'grew like clotted water' to describe his impression of it. The poem then switches to an account of how Heaney collected frog spawn every spring, filling 'jampotfuls of the jellied / specks', imagery that again combines alliteration and assonance. The jars were arranged both at home and at school, then carefully observed as the specks turned into 'nimble-/swimming tadpoles' – another example of assonance.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Lines fifteen to twenty-one (the end of the first stanza) are a very childlike account of how the schoolteacher, Miss Walls, taught Heaney's class about frogs and frogspawn. Simple, childish language features in this section, such as 'the mammy frog laid hundreds of little eggs'; there are four clauses each joined by 'and' in this sentence, just as though it were written by a child. The final sentence of the first stanza continues in the same style, telling us that frogs are yellow in sunny weather but 'brown / In rain'. The last, brief two-word line of the first stanza seems to underline the fact that this is the end of a period of innocence and that a change is forthcoming. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The second stanza of twelve lines is much shorter than the first and has a very different tone; the feeling of change is signalled by the opening phrase 'Then one hot day'... Unpleasant imagery begins with fields described as 'rank / with cowdung'. At the end of line two and the beginning of line three the frogs are seen as 'angry' and have 'invaded the flax-dam': they have taken over in a war-like gesture. As Heaney approached he heard a 'coarse croaking' that was a new sound in that setting; in line twenty-six he uses the metaphor 'The air was thick with a bass chorus' to describe how the sound filled the place. Frogs are everywhere and they are ugly, 'gross-bellied', pictured with assonance in the phrase 'cocked / on sods'. Their flabby necks are described by Heaney with the simile 'pulsed like sails'. The sound of their movements is expressed by onomatopoeia: 'slap and plop', which obviously disgusted Heaney  who felt that these were 'obscene threats'. In line thirty their stance is described by the simile 'Poised like mud grenades', an image that echoes the war-like connotation of the word 'invaded' in line twenty-four. Heaney again voices his distaste for the sound of the frogs in the phrase 'their blunt heads farting'. He could not face them, and in line thirty-one he 'sickened, turned and ran', such was his revulsion. He personifies them as 'great slime kings' and in the following line states that they had assembled at the flax-dam for revenge: 'gathered there for vengeance' for stolen frogspawn. Heaney's final line expresses how far his imagination as a child took hold: 'if I dipped my hand the spawn would clutch it'. This is a nightmare image where the spawn becomes powerful and grabs the child, reversing the original roles.  &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The structure of the poem, where the first stanza is almost twice the length of the first, resembles that of Heaney's 'Blackberry-Picking'. Both poems describe an enjoyable childhood experience in the first stanza which turns sour in the second, linking form to meaning. The feeling of disillusion and disappointment following pleasure is a common theme in these two poems. 'Death of a Naturalist' links language to meaning as well, the vivid imagery of the second stanza creating a marked contrast with the simple, childlike wording of lines fifteen to twenty-one. There is a wealth of description here and we can sympathise with the child's disgust of the creatures that evolved from his precious jars of frogspawn.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4534118923383499945-2819032336717070824?l=poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/feeds/2819032336717070824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2009/11/death-of-naturalist-seamus-heaney.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/2819032336717070824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/2819032336717070824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2009/11/death-of-naturalist-seamus-heaney.html' title='Death of a Naturalist - Seamus Heaney'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17510237124879094691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5vmH7DRxg/SraLj_XBHoI/AAAAAAAAAVU/V7HBPeBlcvo/S220/IMG_2535.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4534118923383499945.post-5370962670728929934</id><published>2009-11-19T11:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-19T11:55:50.682-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blackberry picking'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heaney'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Seamus Heaney'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='onomatopoeia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='assonance'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='simile'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='metaphor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='imagery'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poems'/><title type='text'>Blackberry picking - Seamus Heaney</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;This is one of Heaney's poems that centres on memories of his childhood, growing up on a farm in the Irish countryside. Here he recalls the annual experience of picking wild fruit in late summer.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Heaney uses assonance in his phrase 'glossy purple clot' to describe the first blackberry that ripened and stood out from others pictured with the simile as being still 'hard as a knot'. Heaney compares the taste of the first ripe berry to the sweetness of 'thickened wine'. He uses the metaphor 'summer's blood' to express the redness of the juice that led to a desire for more: 'lust for picking'. The reference to blood is the first suggestion of a less enjoyable or innocent experience.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The second part of the sixteen-line first stanza tells how they collected all the containers they could lay their hands on: 'milk-cans, pea-tins, jam-pots'. The rhythm of the list is repeated two lines later in 'hayfields, cornfields and potato-drills' whose bordering hedges offered the fruit for picking. Onomatopoiea in the phrase 'tinkling bottom' suggests the sound of the first few berries hitting the metal of the cans they were dropped into. An ominous picture is painted in the description of the ripe fruit on the top: 'big dark blobs burned like a plate of eyes'. Perhaps this reflects the vivid imagination of a child. The macabre imagery increases at the end of the first stanza, where Heaney uses the simile 'sticky as Bluebeard's' to describe the blackberry juice covering the palms of the children's hands as if it were blood, thus echoing the earlier metaphor of 'summer's blood'. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;In the shorter second stanza, the pleasures of picking and tasting the first ripe berries soon fade away. The berries were 'hoarded' in the byre, but very quickly begin to go mouldy. The mould is described as a 'rat-grey fungus': the inclusion of the word 'rat' in the metaphor emphasizes the distaste of this deterioration. The smell and taste are focused on too. 'Stinking' makes no bones about the unpleasant smell, and the original sweet taste of the blackberries turns sour. The following line reminds us that the poet is speaking here as a child: 'I always felt like crying. It wasn't fair...' Then once again the smell is recalled: 'all the lovely canfuls smelt of rot'. In the last line, Heaney remembers that he always hoped the blackberries would last once they had been picked, but inside realised that this was impossible.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;It is interesting to compare this with another poem of Heaney's, 'Death of a Naturalist'. Both of them centre on childhood memories that begin as innocent, pleasurable experiences rooted in nature, but both end in disillusion. Nature's beauty and sweetness do not endure. The desire for the experience ends in revulsion. There is even a parallel in the structure of the two poems with the extended first stanza followed by a more compact second one that describes a change, the moment of disillusion and disgust.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Heaney addresses all the senses with his imagery and hints here and there among his initial admiration and enjoyment that things are perhaps not all they seem. The innocence of childhood and the wonders of nature are transient, and disappointment has to be confronted.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4534118923383499945-5370962670728929934?l=poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/feeds/5370962670728929934/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2009/11/blackberry-picking-seamus-heaney.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/5370962670728929934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/5370962670728929934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2009/11/blackberry-picking-seamus-heaney.html' title='Blackberry picking - Seamus Heaney'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17510237124879094691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5vmH7DRxg/SraLj_XBHoI/AAAAAAAAAVU/V7HBPeBlcvo/S220/IMG_2535.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4534118923383499945.post-2364772595662084273</id><published>2009-11-10T23:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-10T23:14:19.867-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Simon Armitage'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stanza'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='personification'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poem'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hitcher'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='enjambment'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rhymes'/><title type='text'>Hitcher</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The first stanza of Simon Armitage's poem 'Hitcher' reveals that the narrator has been off work for a while and is under threat of losing his job. He states that he had been 'tired, under/the weather', not seriously ill. He doesn't answer the phone calls from work, so messages are left, and he describes the ansaphone as 'screaming' that he will be fired if he produces another sick note. This is someone who seems unable to face the routine of everyday life. He himself hitches a lift to the place where he has a hired car parked, but gives us no information as to the purpose of his journey or his destination.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The first line of stanza two abruptly introduces the hitcher: 'I picked him up in Leeds'; the hitcher is only ever refered to as 'him' or 'he'. We are told that he is travelling from east to west, 'following the sun', and the only possession he has with him is a toothbrush. He sleeps in the open, on 'the good earth'. He tells the narrator that the truth is 'blowin' in the wind', an obvious quote from a Bob Dylan song of the 1960s. The narrator's comment that the truth could perhaps be 'round the next bend' is an ominous precursor to what follows, but we may not realise this on first read.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The fact that stanza three describes the narrator's sudden violent attack on the hitcher reveals the envy that he felt when confronted by a person who appeared to have total freedom. 'I let him have it' is a blunt description of the physical attack during which the narrator hit the hitcher initially with his own head and then 'six times with the krooklok', directly in his face. Ruthlessness is all too apparent when he tells us that he carried on driving, 'didn't even swerve' during the attack.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Armitage uses enjambment to link the third stanza to the fourth, as the narrator describes how he pushed the hitcher out of the car whilst in third gear and watched him 'bouncing off the kerb'. The statement 'We were the same age, give or take a week' tells us that the narrator obviously made a direct comparison between himself and the hitcher. The hitcher 'said he liked the breeze/to run its fingers/through his hair': the personification brings to life this description that must have aroused such envy in the narrator at the hitcher's freedom that he began his frenzied attack. We are now into the fifth and final stanza, and the narrator's cold-heartedness is once again emphasised in his matter-of-fact tone as he listens to the car radio: 'It was twelve noon./The outlook for the day was moderate to fair.' This is a man who may have just killed someone.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The last two lines begin with another blunt, abrupt sentence: 'Stitch that.' The irony of the last line, 'you can walk from there', is all too clear, as the hitcher would have been in no state to walk having been brutally attacked and forced out of a moving vehicle. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The structure of the poem is in fact very balanced, consisting of five stanzas of five lines each. The lines vary in length but follow the same pattern in each stanza, beginning with a short one, increasing in length until the third line, and gradually decreasing in the fourth and fifth. The only rhymes in the poem are lines three and five in the first stanza ('fired' and 'hired'), and lines three and five in the final stanza ('fair' and 'there').&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;This is a first-person narrative reflecting different extremes in society: two men of the same age, one of whom has succeeded in escaping the rat-race, the other caught up in it but unable to face up to its demands and threatened with losing his job. Confronted by someone who has found the freedom he so covets, the narrator cannot bear listen to him or see him sitting beside him. Envy, pent-up anger and violence are unleashed. One man may be dead; the other is unrepentent, devoid of emotion.   &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4534118923383499945-2364772595662084273?l=poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/feeds/2364772595662084273/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2009/11/hitcher.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/2364772595662084273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/2364772595662084273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2009/11/hitcher.html' title='Hitcher'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17510237124879094691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5vmH7DRxg/SraLj_XBHoI/AAAAAAAAAVU/V7HBPeBlcvo/S220/IMG_2535.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4534118923383499945.post-2540106375547896212</id><published>2009-11-07T11:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-07T11:37:29.742-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='iambic pentameter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sonnet 130'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rhyming couplet'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='simile'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poem'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Shakespeare'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sonnet'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poet'/><title type='text'>Shakespeare - Sonnet 130</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The opening line of Shakespeare's Sonnet 130 is a surprising simile: 'My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun'. We might normally expect poets, especially those of Shakespeare's time, to praise the women they love by telling us that their eyes do shine like the sun. But a writer of Shakespeare's calibre is not going to follow the herd and make exaggerated comparisons; here he is describing reality.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Over the next few lines Shakespeare continues to describe his mistress in terms of the senses of sight, smell, sound and touch, but there is no flattery here. Colours are focused on first: 'Coral is far more red than her lips' red' tells us that lips are not naturally a bright red colour. Pale skin would have been sought after, but Shakespeare's mistress had dun-coloured breasts, dun being quite a dark colour. It seems that she did not have soft, sleek hair, as in line four it is compared to wire. Shakespeare relates that he has seen beautiful two-toned or 'damasked' roses, but that there is no rosiness in his mistress' cheeks. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The poet is quite forthright in telling us that his mistress has bad breath; in fact it 'reeks', and there is no hint of perfume. Line nine gives the first compliment: 'I love to hear her speak', but Shakespeare admits in the following line that he would actually prefer music to her voice.  In line eleven Shakespeare implies that the way his mistress moves could not be compared to a goddess, and he goes on to say 'My mistress when she walks treads upon the ground', creating the impression that she is heavy-footed.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Sonnet 130 follows that usual structure of the Shakespearean sonnet, with the last two lines being a rhyming couplet, indented. This change marks a change in content too: Shakespeare says that in spite of all the defects, he genuinely loves his mistress: 'I think my love as rare / As any she belied with false compare.' Appearances are not what matter where true love is concerned.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The poem is written in iambic pentameter, or lines of ten syllables with the stress on every second syllable. ('Coral' in line two does not quite fit into this pattern.) The rhyme scheme is ababcdcdefefgg, the usual pattern for a Shakespearean sonnet. The structure, then, conforms, but it is the content of the sonnet that is unusual. It is refreshing to read a love poem that is frank and honest rather than following meaningless traditions. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4534118923383499945-2540106375547896212?l=poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/feeds/2540106375547896212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2009/11/shakespeare-sonnet-130.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/2540106375547896212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/2540106375547896212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2009/11/shakespeare-sonnet-130.html' title='Shakespeare - Sonnet 130'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17510237124879094691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5vmH7DRxg/SraLj_XBHoI/AAAAAAAAAVU/V7HBPeBlcvo/S220/IMG_2535.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4534118923383499945.post-7462491352443937386</id><published>2009-11-04T09:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-04T09:07:59.840-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stanza'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poem'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Derek Walcott'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='imperative'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='enjambment'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Walcott'/><title type='text'>Love after Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Derek Walcott's four-stanza poem 'Love After Love' is essentially telling us how to love ourselves after the end of a relationship. In it he speaks directly to the reader, repeatedly using the words 'you', 'your' or 'yourself', and employing the imperative form of the verb.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Walcott recognises that, following a break-up, a love of oneself will not come immediately, but 'The time will come'. He emphasises the joy involved, as he says that it will be with 'elation' that you will 'greet yourself' at your door or as you look at yourself in the mirror. The first stanza ends with the idea that you will smile at yourself.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The second stanza opens with the image of considering yourself as a guest that you invite to sit down and eat. Walcott stresses that you will love 'again the stranger that was yourself', conveying the idea that you used to love yourself before becoming involved in a relationship. That was so long ago, however, that the person you were then seems like a stranger now. The short imperative sentences of line 8, 'Give wine. Give bread', link the process directly to the idea of Holy Communion, but in this case with yourself rather than with God. The instruction follows to 'Give back your heart to yourself', as though you are the one worthy of your love now that you have come to the end of a relationship with another. The second stanza ends with the repetition of the idea that you are a stranger to yourself after so many years of loving someone else.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Walcott uses enjambment to link one stanza to the next, and so the opening of the third stanza begins 'All your life', continuing the idea that you have always loved yourself. Yet you did not recognise this fact; you 'ignored' that love by loving someone else. Walcott uses the phrase 'who knows you by heart' in line 11 to show how well you know yourself, with the use of the word 'heart' underlining the feeling of love. Line 12, the final line of the third stanza, uses the imperative once again to tell you to 'Take down the love-letters from the bookshelf'. This idea leads into the fourth and final stanza that continues with 'The photographs, the desperate notes' which you should also take down. Walcott then suggests that you 'Peel' pictures of yourself from the mirror. Having gathered all of these, the poem ends with the idea that you sit down and 'Feast on your life'. Instead of looking at photographs and reading love letters that remind you of the break-up of your relationship, you look at your own life and appreciate the person that you are.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Walcott's poem is a mere fifteen lines long with stanzas and lines of varying length. The stanzas flow from one into the next, and the idea of loving yourself is developed throughout the poem with references to both religion and the welcoming of guests or feasting. Very brief sentences are interspersed with longer, flowing ones. In some cases the imperative verb on its own constitutes a sentence, such as 'Eat.' 'Sit.'&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;'Love After Love' introduces an original way of being positive following the end of a relationship. Rather than wallowing in self-pity or dwelling on the person who is no longer part of your life, it demonstrates a way of having a positive attitude to life. The person that you are has value, and you should recognise it and learn to love yourself.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4534118923383499945-7462491352443937386?l=poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/feeds/7462491352443937386/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2009/11/love-after-love.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/7462491352443937386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/7462491352443937386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2009/11/love-after-love.html' title='Love after Love'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17510237124879094691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5vmH7DRxg/SraLj_XBHoI/AAAAAAAAAVU/V7HBPeBlcvo/S220/IMG_2535.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4534118923383499945.post-6560456723875985766</id><published>2009-11-03T09:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-03T09:31:32.911-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Denise Levertov'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stanza'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='simile'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poem'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='contrast'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poet'/><title type='text'>What were they like?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;An English poet who moved to New York as a young adult, Denise Levertov voices her opposition to the USA's role in the Vietnam War in her poem 'What Were They Like?' The poem is presented in a particularly unusual way, where the first stanza consists of a series of numbered questions asking about certain aspects of the Vietnamese people's way of life. The second stanza gives answers to each of these questions, and they are also numbered so that it is easy to tell which reply relates to which question.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The fact that the questions in the first stanza are all in the past tense immediately leads us to feel that this race of people has now died out. Four of the questions repeat the opening phrase 'Did they...?' The tone of the questions conveys a sense that these were people who were gentle and close to nature. The second question, for example, asks 'Did they hold ceremonies / to reverence the opening of buds?' This question gives the impression that worship was an important part of their lives, and that they respected nature, realising that the growth of new plants and flowers was a precious sign of life. The third question asks 'Were they inclined to quiet laughter?' This paints a picture of people who understood joy but experienced it in a peaceful way. The fourth question asks if they used the natural elements of bone, ivory, jade and silver for decoration, implying that they loved natural beauty. The two final questions concern poetry, 'speech and singing', wondering if they had an 'epic poem' and also if they perhaps felt that speaking and singing were essentially one and the same.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The very first question in stanza one asks if 'the people of Viet Nam / used lanterns of stone', stone again being a natural substance. As we begin to read the answers to the questions in stanza two, we soon sense a difference in tone as the first line tells us 'Sir, their light hearts turned to stone.' This is not of course a direct answer to the question, but underlines the ideas of the first stanza, where it is suggested that these people appreciated joy and 'quiet laughter'. 'Turned to stone', on the other hand, tells us that their joy was wiped out, and their hearts became heavy. The next line, still answering the first question but now more directly, begins 'It is not remembered...' This phrase, repeated in the reply to the fifth question, creates a feeling that much of the knowledge of the Vietnamese people has been lost. No-one knows whether 'stone lanterns illumined pleasant ways'.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The answer to question two contains a poignant contrast of ideas. The fact that it begins with the word 'perhaps' reinforces the feeling that we cannot be certain of the traditions of a race of people that has been wiped out by war. The act of coming together to 'delight in blossom' is immediately followed by the harsh statement 'but after the children were killed / there were no more buds)'. No children, no buds, no life, no growth; what was there for these people to give thanks for in worship?&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The third and fourth questions have replies that imply destruction by fire during the war. The answer to question three is the briefest one, telling us that 'laughter is bitter to the burned mouth.' Bitter can of course have two meanings: either a bitter taste, and here of course there is a reference to the mouth, or a bitter feeling, which is particularly poignant here, as the quiet laughter has transformed into appalling suffering. The reply to the fourth question begins 'A dream ago, perhaps,' reiterating the idea of uncertainty. It continues 'Ornament is for joy. / All the bones were charred,' leaving us in no doubt that there was no place for lightheartedness in the wake of the destruction of war. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The reply to the fifth question is the most detailed one, and also the one that bears the closest resemblance to the traditional concept of poetic description. It echoes the phrase 'It is not remembered' of the first answer, going on to say that most of the people were peasants who spent their lives 'in rice and bamboo'. They were cultivators, not destroyers. What follows is a descriptive image of 'peaceful clouds reflected in paddies', paddies being waterlogged fields where the rice was grown. Just as uncertainty was previously expressed by 'perhaps', here we have 'maybe': 'maybe fathers told their sons old tales'. The next two lines, however, are in sharp contrast once again, as these images or 'mirrors' were destroyed by bombing. This peaceful agricultural way of life was brought to an abrupt end, when 'there was time only to scream.'&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The word scream is also in contrast to 'an echo yet / of their speech' at the start of the reply to the sixth and final question. Levertov uses a simile for their speech 'which was like a song', and the idea of joy is portrayed again. Their singing is compared to 'the flight of moths in the moonlight', creating the impression of delicateness and transitoriness. The final line of the poem presents one more question: 'Who can say?' emphasizing once more the uncertainty of the facts that are known about the people of Viet Nam. The poem ends with a brief sentence, 'It is silent now.' This is not a silence akin to that of the 'quiet laughter' of the third question, however. It is the silence of complete destruction, of a people that no longer exist.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;We come away from this poem with a sense that the people being focused on here were gentle, peaceful folk who led a simple lifestyle close to nature; they had a strong sense of joy and delighted in creation and growth. The brutality of the way they were destroyed during the Vietnam War is brought home to us by the contrast of their quiet ways and the harsh reality of the bombing that wiped them out.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4534118923383499945-6560456723875985766?l=poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/feeds/6560456723875985766/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2009/11/what-were-they-like.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/6560456723875985766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/6560456723875985766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2009/11/what-were-they-like.html' title='What were they like?'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17510237124879094691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5vmH7DRxg/SraLj_XBHoI/AAAAAAAAAVU/V7HBPeBlcvo/S220/IMG_2535.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4534118923383499945.post-3631990848005071236</id><published>2009-11-01T01:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-11-01T01:38:19.157-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stanza'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Nothing&apos;s Changed'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='alliteration'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tatamkhulu Afrika'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poem'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='contrast'/><title type='text'>Nothing's Changed</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;'Nothing's Changed' is the expression of Tatamkhulu Afrika's opposition to the system of apartheid in South Africa, under which black people were denied many of their basic rights, and were not allowed to mix freely with white people. Afrika was actually born in Egypt but went to live in South Africa as a young child. Here he returns to South Africa after the apartheid system had been abolished, but finds that black people still do not have equal rights.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The first of the seven stanzas takes the form of a single sentence that spans eight lines. The opening line of the second stanza tells us that the first stanza is a description of District Six, a run-down area of the city of Cape Town. The poet walks through stones, grasses, rubbish and weeds that he sees as 'amiable', or friendly. In three instances the verbs 'click', 'thrust' and 'crunch' are emphasised by their position at the end of a line.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;In stanza two, the poet tells us that there is no sign to say which district this is, but he knows instinctively that it is District Six. His recognition of the place is conveyed through a list of parts of his body that know exactly where he is: 'the skin about my bones, / and the soft labouring of my lungs'; repetition of the pronoun 'my' reinforces his personal experience of this place. The final two lines of this stanza introduce the first sign of his intense emotion: 'the hot, white, inwards turning / anger of my eyes'.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The third stanza describes a 'new, up-market' restaurant that is for white people only. The opening word of the stanza, 'Brash', tells us immediately how showy this place is (and, ironically, 'brash' can sometimes mean white-faced). The alliteration in the phrase 'flaring like a flag' in the following line continues to convey the idea that this restaurant asserts itself even in its name. Amongst the weeds, pine trees (Port Jackson trees) are beginning to establish a more sophisticated look for the surrounding area. The restaurant offers 'haute cuisine' (high-class, elegant food) and the presence of a guard is necessary to ensure that only white people enter.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Stanza four is the mid-point of the poem and draws attention to itself since it consists of just two lines: 'No sign says it is: but we know where we belong'. Again, the poet does not need a sign to spell out what type of place this is. Using the pronoun 'we' shows that he identifies with the black people, even though he was not one of them by birth.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;In the fifth stanza, the poet continues to describe the restaurant. He knows what he will see inside it, but presses his nose 'to the clear panes' to confirm his suspicions. Everything is superior: 'crushed ice white glass', a linen tablecloth, and a rose on each table.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The penultimate stanza sets up a sharp contrast whereby Afrika introduces 'a working-man's cafe' just a little way away from the restaurant. Here, bunny chows are served: half loaves of bread are scooped out, filled with curry, and this is then eaten with the hands by dipping in the scooped out bread. Nothing could be further from the images of the third and fifth stanzas, as the workers sit at plastic tables, wiping their hands on their clothes, 'spit a little on the floor'. The last line here, 'it's in the bone' tells us that these people behave like this instinctively, never having entered a place where that kind of behaviour would be frowned upon.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The final stanza returns us to the up-market inn, or restaurant, and the poet moves back from the window, feeling that he is back in his childhood days at the time of the apartheid system. He still feels the same anger against that system, and has a fierce impulse to smash the glass: 'Hands burn / for a stone, a bomb'. The reason is obvious from the poem's final line, reiterating the title, 'Nothing's changed.' The black people of this region are still treated as if they are inferior.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;This is a strong, politically emotional poem in which Tatamkhulu Afrika, although not black himself, speaks out against the injustice of the system of government in South Africa. His use of sharp contrast between the eating places of the white people in a classy restaurant and the black people in a working-man's cafe makes his message strike home with a direct forcefulness, and we sense his anger running through the poem's seven stanzas.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4534118923383499945-3631990848005071236?l=poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/feeds/3631990848005071236/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2009/11/nothings-changed.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/3631990848005071236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/3631990848005071236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2009/11/nothings-changed.html' title='Nothing&apos;s Changed'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17510237124879094691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5vmH7DRxg/SraLj_XBHoI/AAAAAAAAAVU/V7HBPeBlcvo/S220/IMG_2535.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4534118923383499945.post-8697826244685338659</id><published>2009-10-31T03:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-31T03:58:29.626-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='oxymoron'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='personification'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='alliteration'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='onomatopoeia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='assonance'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='simile'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='contrast'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='metaphor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='figures of speech'/><title type='text'>Figures of Speech in Poetry</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Trebuchet MS"&gt;Anyone studying English Language and Literature  has to be able to analyse poetry, and recognising figures of speech and being able to quote them and comment on them will make any essay more impressive. There again, actually using them yourself in creative writing or descriptive writing brings your work alive and gives it an extra dimension. Various figures of speech are explained here; the examples quoted are from the  AQA  Anthology for GCSE English Language and Literature (Specification A) for 2005 onwards. (The book is published by Oxford University Press but is only distributed in secondary schools; copies can sometimes be found on Ebay.)&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Trebuchet MS"&gt;ALLITERATION&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Trebuchet MS"&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Trebuchet MS"&gt;Alliteration is the repetition of consonants, usually at the beginnings of words in close succession.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Trebuchet MS"&gt;Nissim Ezekiel uses this device in his poem 'Night of the Scorpion' in which the phrases 'stung by a scorpion' 'parting with his poison' describe his memory of the evening his mother was the victim of a scorpion's sting but thanked God it had chosen her and not her children. The 'drizzle of one despondent dawn' sets a dismal tone at the beginning of Nigerian poet Chinua Achebe's 'Vultures'.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Trebuchet MS"&gt;Moniza Alvi uses alliteration in her poem 'Presents from my Aunts in Pakistan' which expresses her confusion at being of mixed nationality and not fully belonging anywhere. After moving to England, she hears of the conflict in Pakistan, which she describes as 'a fractured land/throbbing through newsprint'.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Trebuchet MS"&gt;In her poem 'Anne Hathaway', Carol Ann Duffy imagines how Shakespeare's  wife would have thought of him as 'My living laughing love'. Simon Armitage picks a more up-to-date character in 'Kid', where the narrator, Batman's sidekick Robin, has finally grown up and says Batman has 'let me loose to wander/leeward, freely'.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Trebuchet MS"&gt;A very different atmosphere is created by alliteration in Walt Whitman's poem 'Patrolling Barnegat' describing a storm at sea: 'On beachy slush and sand spirts of snow fierce slanting'. Still threatening, but in a very different way, is Robert Browning's female narrator in 'The Laboratory', describing in minute detail the process as she mixes a poisonous potion to inflict upon her lover's new-found mistress: 'moisten and mash up thy paste,/Pound at thy powder'. A more majestic picture is created by Alfred Tennyson in his brief poem 'The Eagle': 'He clasps the crag with crooked hands;/Close to the sun in lonely lands'.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Trebuchet MS"&gt;ASSONANCE&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Trebuchet MS"&gt;~~~~~~~~~~&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Trebuchet MS"&gt;This is the repetition of vowel sounds in words.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Trebuchet MS"&gt;Seamus Heaney shows himself to be a grand master of assonance in his poem 'Death of a Naturalist' where he describes how 'gross-bellied frogs were cocked on sods'. The more poignant 'Mid-Term Break' tells how he was brought home from boarding school following the death of his four-year-old brother in a road accident. Waiting for neighbours to collect him from school, he hears 'bells knelling'; on the morning of the funeral he sees the body 'stanched and bandaged' and notices the bruise on the left temple. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Trebuchet MS"&gt;In a similar vein, Gillian Clarke's 'Cold Knap Lake' recounts how a drowning child is pulled from the lake. She describes the murky depths of the water 'after the treading, heavy webs of swans'  that she feels may hide other disturbing memories.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Trebuchet MS"&gt;On a lighter note, John Clare's 'Sonnet' describes the delights of nature in summer 'Where reed clumps rustle like a wind shook wood': notice that here he is also using alliteration and a simile, so be on the lookout for descriptions that combine more than one figure of speech.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Trebuchet MS"&gt;CONTRAST&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Trebuchet MS"&gt;~~~~~~~~~&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Trebuchet MS"&gt;Contrast is the juxtaposition of opposites to create a striking effect.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Trebuchet MS"&gt;Tatamkhulu Afrika's poem 'Nothing's Changed' deals with the idea that South Africa remained as it was even after black people were accorded the same rights as white people. He shows this by describing an 'up-market, haute cuisine' 'whites only inn' where he presses his nose up against the window to see 'crushed ice white glass,/linen falls,/the single rose' inside.  In contrast, the black Africans have to go to a cheap 'working man's cafe' that 'sells/bunny chows..... eat/it at a plastic table's top'. He describes how the workers here instinctively wipe their fingers on their jeans, then 'spit a little on the floor'.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Trebuchet MS"&gt;But is the USA very different? Lawrence Ferlinghetti's 'Two Scavengers in a Truck, Two Beautiful People in a Mercedes' is set in San Francisco. Stuck in a traffic jam at a red light, he focuses on the juxtaposition of a garbage truck and its two occupants and a Mercedes in which are seated an architect and a 'young blond woman': 'two garbagemen in red plastic blazers..... looking down into/an elegant open Mercedes/with an elegant couple in it'. In the closing stanza Ferlinghetti imagines that anything could have happened in that short space of time that brought these people so close together: 'and the very red light for an instant/holding all four close together/as if anything at all were possible/between them'.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Trebuchet MS"&gt;METAPHOR&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Trebuchet MS"&gt;~~~~~~~~~&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Trebuchet MS"&gt;A metaphor compares something to something else by saying it IS something else or DOES something else, as in the line from the song 'I've got you under my skin': you cannot literally be under someone else's skin. The English cricketer Fred Truman once famously said 'I don't  use metaphors. I don't like to beat about the bush,' which of course is itself a metaphor.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Trebuchet MS"&gt;Simon Armitage's poem that begins 'Mother, any distance greater than a single span' recounts how his mother came to help him measure up a house he was moving into, but the entire poem appears to be a metaphor for his changing relationship with his mother as he grows up and becomes independent. She stays downstairs, firmly grasping the 'zero-end' of the spool of tape, while he climbs the stairs with the tape, 'unreeling years between us', seeing his mother as an 'anchor' and himself as a 'kite', gaining his freedom but not breaking the bond. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Trebuchet MS"&gt;The poem 'Search for my Tongue' by Sujata Bhatt also uses an extended metaphor (over the course of several lines of the poem) to express the idea that her mother tongue insists on making its presence felt, and seems to grow like a plant: 'the bud opens, ..... it blossoms out of my mouth.'&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt; &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Trebuchet MS"&gt;'Catrin' by Gillian Clarke expresses the desire of both mother and child to establish their separate identities. At the time of birth, the umbilical cord is described by the metaphor 'the tight/red rope of love' that mother and baby are fighting over.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Trebuchet MS"&gt;In 'Anne Hathaway' Carol Ann Duffy imagines that Shakespeare's wife felt that the nights she spent with her husband took her to a world of fantasy: 'My lover's words were shooting stars which fell to earth as kisses to these lips' skilfully combines both metaphor and simile in one image.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt; &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Trebuchet MS"&gt;In a far less magical vein, Charles Tichbourne wrote 'Tichbourne's Elegy' in the Tower of London in 1586 before his execution. He was still young at the time, and the poem contains a number of metaphors expressing his regret that he will not be able to live out the course of his life: &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Trebuchet MS"&gt;'My fruit is fallen, and yet my leaves are green;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Trebuchet MS"&gt;...My thread is cut, and yet it is not spun.'&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Trebuchet MS"&gt;ONOMATOPOEIA&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Trebuchet MS"&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Trebuchet MS"&gt;Although a long word and a difficult one to spell, it can often be something as short as: pop! Onomatopoeia means using a word that actually sounds like the sound it is describing.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Trebuchet MS"&gt;Several of Seamus Heaney's poems portray his admiration for his father and grandfather, who both farmed the land. Remembering his grandfather cutting turf in the poem 'Digging', Heaney decribes the sound as 'the squelch and slap of soggy peat'.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Trebuchet MS"&gt;Gillian Clarke's 'Baby-sitting' is an honest expression of the lack of a bond between herself and the baby she is looking after. She describes the sounds of the sleeping infant as 'a snuffly/roseate, bubbling sleep;' and we can just imagine the little sounds she is hearing.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Trebuchet MS"&gt;In 'We Remember Your Childhood Well', Carol Ann Duffy constructs' a scene where adults are answering what are apparently the accusations of their child, now grown up. 'Call back the sound of their voices. Boom. Boom. Boom.' &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Trebuchet MS"&gt;OXYMORON&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Trebuchet MS"&gt;~~~~~~~~~~&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Trebuchet MS"&gt;Not as common as some other figures or speech, an oxymoron puts two complete opposites together in the same phrase.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Trebuchet MS"&gt;Carol Ann Duffy's poem 'Havisham' centres on the elderly Miss Havisham of Charles Dickens's novel 'Great Expectations'. Jilted on her wedding day, she was never able to forgive or forget the gentleman in question. The opening line of Duffy's poem refers to him as her 'Beloved sweetheart bastard'. Towards the end of the poem the oxymoron 'Love's/hate behind a white veil'  shows the close link between the two extreme emotions.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Trebuchet MS; min-height: 14.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Trebuchet MS"&gt;PERSONIFICATION&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Trebuchet MS"&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Trebuchet MS"&gt;Personification involves giving things the characteristics of people.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Trebuchet MS"&gt;Seamus Heaney's 'Death of a Naturalist' is one of the most descriptive poems in the anthology; he sets the scene at a dam where 'Bubbles gargled delicately' and the flax rotted under 'the punishing sun'.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Trebuchet MS"&gt;John Agard's poem 'Half-Caste' written in non-standard English, uses vivid imagery to express his frustration at the attitude people have towards him because of his mixed nationality. He uses personification to describe the persistance of heavy clouds in Britain: 'some o dem cloud..... so spiteful dem dont want de sun pass ah rass'. (Some of those clouds are so spiteful they don't want the sun to pass over us.)&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Trebuchet MS"&gt;In a celebration of freedom from the routine of daily life, kitchen utensils as well as vegetables are personified in 'This Room' by Imtiaz Dharker: 'Pots and pans... clang/past the crowd of garlic, onions, spices,/fly by the ceiling fan.' &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Trebuchet MS"&gt;Simon Armitage's poem 'Hitcher' describes the violent reaction of an anti-social driver who picks up a hitch-hiker that seems to have the freedom he fiercely covets. After attacking him and throwing him out of his car, the narrator remembers how the hitcher 'said he liked the breeze/to run its fingers/through his hair.'  &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Trebuchet MS"&gt;SIMILE&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Trebuchet MS"&gt;~~~~~&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Trebuchet MS"&gt;A simile is a way of comparing one thing to another using either 'like' or 'as'.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Trebuchet MS"&gt;'The flung spray..... spits like a tame cat/Turned savage' describes the ferocity of the wind lashing at the sea in Seamus Heaney's 'Storm on the Island'. The same poet deals with childhood memories in 'Blackberry Picking' where he remembers the taste of the season's first blackberyy: 'its flesh was sweet like thickened wine'.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Trebuchet MS"&gt;A more majestic picture of nature is given in Alfred Tennyson's 'The Eagle'; the bird of prey stands on a mountain top and then suddenly 'like a thunderbolt he falls', swooping down on the prey he has been watching. John Clare shows his admiration of nature in summer in his 'Sonnet': 'reed clumps rustle like wind shook wood', where he combines alliteration and assonance with his simile.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Trebuchet MS"&gt;'The skin cracks like a pod' describes the effect of drought in an Indian village in the poem 'Blessing' by Imtiaz Dharker, whereupon a pipe bursts and adults and children alike come running to collect the precious water. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Trebuchet MS"&gt;'A salwar kameez..... glistening like an orange split open' describes the brilliant colour of the traditional Pakistani clothes sent to her in England in Moniza Alvi's 'Presents from my Aunts in Pakistan'.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Trebuchet MS"&gt;'Labourers swarm..... like crows attacking crow-black fields' focuses on the crowds of field-workers in Seamus Heaney's 'At a Potato Digging'. In contrast 'but God, ever nigh,/Appeared like his father in white' to rescue a child whose father had left him behind whilst walking home in the dark in 'The Little boy Found' by William Blake.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Trebuchet MS"&gt;In 'Sonnet 130' William Shakespeare uses a simile in the opposite way when he says 'My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;' and yet he values her love above everything.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Trebuchet MS"&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~ &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Trebuchet MS"&gt;The work of these poets is of course published in other collections besides the GCSE Anthology mentioned in my introduction. Faber &amp;amp; Faber Ltd publish the work of Seamus Heaney and that of Simon Armitage, whilst Carol Ann Duffy's poetry is published by Macmillan. Gillian Clarke is published by Carcanet Press Ltd.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Trebuchet MS"&gt;Analysing poetry obviously involves more than just discussing figures of speech; style, structure, rhythm, and rhyme are all important. Being able to recognise figures of speech will, however, help in understanding the imagery and meaning of a poem and encourage students perhaps to use figurative language in their own writing. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4534118923383499945-8697826244685338659?l=poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/feeds/8697826244685338659/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2009/10/figures-of-speech-in-poetry.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/8697826244685338659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/8697826244685338659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2009/10/figures-of-speech-in-poetry.html' title='Figures of Speech in Poetry'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17510237124879094691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5vmH7DRxg/SraLj_XBHoI/AAAAAAAAAVU/V7HBPeBlcvo/S220/IMG_2535.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4534118923383499945.post-4446072773670247598</id><published>2009-10-29T10:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-29T10:49:27.602-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='humour'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stanza'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poem'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='imagery'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Half-Caste'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poet'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='John Agard'/><title type='text'>Half-Caste</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Born in Guyana, South America, in 1949 to parents of mixed nationality, John Agard came to live in Britain in 1977. His poem 'Half-Caste' demonstrates the attitude of narrow-minded people that he must have encountered, who consider people of mixed parentage to be inferior to themselves. The poem is written in non-standard English, in other words in exactly the way that the poet, a non-native speaker, might speak and with the words spelled exactly as they would sound. Whilst contributing to the humour of the poem, it might be confusing for some readers.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The poem opens with a short, sharp three-line stanza in which Agard explains that he is standing on one leg because he is half-caste; it's as though he is saying 'What do you expect, if you consider me to be only half a person, then I would only have one leg.' The poet addresses the reader in a very direct way when he says, 'Explain yuself / wha yu mean / when yu say half-caste', taking the stance that the reader is one of the people who looks down on those of mixed nationality. His argumentative tone continues throughout the poem and emphasizes the fact that those he is addressing have no foundation for their attitude.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Besides the non-standard language itself, the imagery that the poet uses is very humorous and provides an interesting juxtaposition to the criticisms being levelled at certain people. In the second stanza, Agard takes very famous people, namely Picasso and Tchaikovsky (but doesn't give their names capital letters) and says, for example,&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;'when yu say half-caste&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;yu mean when picasso&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;mix red and green&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;is a half-caste canvas/'&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The point he is making here is that Picasso used complementary opposite colours, red and green, but of course nobody questioned that because he was a genius. He was respected. Similarly,&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;'when yu say half-caste&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;yu mean tchaikovsky&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;sit down at dah piano&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;an mix a black key&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;wid a white key&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;is a half-caste symphony/'&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;This example is perhaps even more potent, since the black and white keys would seem a direct parallel to black and white people. It is obvious that a composer would use both black and white keys of a piano: nobody would question such a thing, so Agard's point is that people of mixed nationality, having one black parent and one white parent, should be accepted in the same way as Tchaikovsky's music is.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Agard further comments that the English weather 'nearly always half-caste' and extends the comparison with a humorous pun: 'in fact some o dem cloud / half-caste till dem overcast'. Giving us such obvious examples of mixtures and half-and-half combinations from culture and climate serves to show how ridiculous it is to look down upon people of mixed nationality.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;In the third stanza the poet continues to use examples, this time relating to his own body, to show the absurdity of the concept of being 'half-caste'. He says he is looking at the reader with the 'keen half' of his ear and his eye, as though his ears and eyes would be split in half because he is of mixed parentage. He continues in humorous vein, going on to say that he would only offer 'half-a-hand' when being introduced to the person he is addressing, and that he just closes 'half-a-eye' and dreams 'half-a-dream' when asleep. Another witty play on words follows with the phrase 'I half-caste human being / cast half a shadow'.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The word 'but' in line 47 heralds the final section of the poem, in which Agard asks the reader to return the following day with the 'whole' of their eye, ear and mind; in other words, he is asking the people he is addressing to open up their minds to a new way of thinking. He is in effect accusing them of being the ones to have only half their minds functioning and half their ears listening to him: in other words, if anyone is half-caste, it is those who look upon him as being inferior. The poem ends in a similar way to that in which it began, with a brief, three-line stanza that simply says that Agard will tell people the other half, or other side, of his story if they will come back and listen to him with an open mind. An open mind will allow them to see him as the person he really is, rather than some inferior being.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The poem flows along through its four stanzas of varying length and lines also of varying length, unrestricted by punctuation; there are two forward slashes in the second stanza indicating a break or pause, but not one full-stop. Capital letters are also very few and far between, not being used, as I have mentioned for Picasso or Tchaikovsky. The lack of restrictions of regularity in terms of line length and stanza length, as well as sentence structure, indicate a desire for openness and freedom which suit the theme of the poem.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Agard likes to perform his poems, and it is easy to imagine how powerful a message could come across in this way. Even from reading it, we sense the forcefulness in the manner in which the poet is addressing those he is speaking to, and he would I am sure convey this even more directly in a performance. For those of us who do not have the chance to experience this, we can still sense how outraged he is by the idea that a person of mixed nationality is any less than anyone else, yet he captures our imagination with his imagery and entertains us with his humour to convince us to listen to his way of thinking.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4534118923383499945-4446072773670247598?l=poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/feeds/4446072773670247598/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2009/10/half-caste.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/4446072773670247598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/4446072773670247598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2009/10/half-caste.html' title='Half-Caste'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17510237124879094691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5vmH7DRxg/SraLj_XBHoI/AAAAAAAAAVU/V7HBPeBlcvo/S220/IMG_2535.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4534118923383499945.post-3371396372868047103</id><published>2009-10-28T11:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-28T11:23:11.662-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='scavengers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stanza'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ferlinghetti'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='simile'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poem'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='contrast'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='metaphor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poetry'/><title type='text'>Two Scavengers in a Truck, Two Beautiful People in a Mercedes</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Lawrence Ferlinghetti's 'Two Scavengers in a Truck, Two Beautiful People in a Mercedes' recalls a moment in time when a garbage truck and a Mercedes were juxtaposed whilst waiting at a red traffic light, and is built upon the contrast between the two sets of people in these vehicles.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;This 'event' took place at nine in the morning in San Francisco city centre. The first stanza looks at the garbage truck and its occupants; the colours are very vivid: the truck itself bright yellow, and the men's plastic blazers red, echoing the colour of the traffic light that has forced them to stop. The two garbagemen are hanging on to the back of the truck, one on each side, looking down at the 'elegant couple' in the Mercedes.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Stanza two focuses on the driver and passenger in the Mercedes. Descriptions such as 'hip three-piece linen suit' (for the driver) and 'casually coifed' (for the female passenger) reinforce their elegance. Both are blond. The man, we are told, is an architect and the couple are one their way to his office.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The third stanza looks again at the garbagemen, who have just finished their work having been up since four in the morning. 'Grungy' leaves us in no doubt as to the state they are in. One is considerably older than the other, and Ferlinghetti uses the simile 'looking down like some / gargoyle Quasimodo' to describe the way in which he is hunched and peering down on the couple in the Mercedes. The description is not an appealing one. The younger garbageman, however, is about the same age as the architect and, like him, has 'sunglasses &amp;amp; long hair': they are similar in these ways yet worlds apart.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;In the fourth stanza we are again reminded that the garbagemen, or 'scavengers', are 'gazing down' at the 'cool couple' in the Mercedes. Ferlinghetti imagines that it is as though they are watching an advert on television, an 'odorless TV ad', unreal, untouchable. But in TV commercials anything can happen, and perhaps they are waiting for something to happen.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The final stanza reminds us that they are at a traffic light, a 'very red light', caught for just a short space of time. The light is 'holding all four close together' although it is unlikely that such different types of people would come so physically close in any other way than this chance occurrence. As in the previous stanza, Ferlinghetti sees that it is 'as if anything at all were possible / between them': anything could happen because they are in such close proximity. The distance he describes with the metaphor 'small gulf', and then immediately employs another metaphor, 'high seas of democracy' to create an image of the bizarre juxtapositions that can randomly occur in what is supposedly a highly civilized society.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The lines of poetry here flow back and forth with large indentations, as though we are ourselves are looking back and forth between the garbagemen and the couple in the Mercedes. The spaces that are formed in this way make it quite difficult to distinguish between one stanza and another. The lack of punctuation adds to the sense of a continuous flow, a gaze shifting constantly from truck to car and back again in the short period of time that they were caught at the red light together.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Ferlinghetti has frozen a brief moment in time when we see the extremes of this society, the two garbagement, dirty and exhausted, and the architect and his female companion, beautifully dressed and fresh at the start of their day. The driver and the younger garbagemen are almost the same age, both have long hair and wear sunglasses, and yet they are worlds apart. This is a democracy, but as Ferlinghetti shows us, the gap between rich and poor is still a vast one. When we see the two together in this way, the contrast is striking.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4534118923383499945-3371396372868047103?l=poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/feeds/3371396372868047103/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2009/10/two-scavengers-in-truck-two-beautiful.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/3371396372868047103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/3371396372868047103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2009/10/two-scavengers-in-truck-two-beautiful.html' title='Two Scavengers in a Truck, Two Beautiful People in a Mercedes'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17510237124879094691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5vmH7DRxg/SraLj_XBHoI/AAAAAAAAAVU/V7HBPeBlcvo/S220/IMG_2535.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4534118923383499945.post-3137471498504787109</id><published>2009-10-27T09:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-27T09:59:05.143-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Niyi Osundare'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='irony'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stanza'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='personification'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Not my business'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poem'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='contrast'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='metaphor'/><title type='text'>Not My Business</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Hailing from Nigeria, Niyi Osundare finds an outlet in his poem 'Not my Business' to express his views of the actions taken by repressive regimes such as the one that exists in his own country.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The first three stanzas of this four-stanza poem are identical in structure. The first four lines of each describe how acquaintances of the narrator disappeared in either brutal or mysterious circumstances. In the first stanza, Akanni is beaten and pushed inside a jeep; Osundare uses personification to create this image, describing how the victim was 'stuffed ... down the belly' of the jeep. The final three lines of this stanza, which are completely identical to those of the following two stanzas, convey the reaction of the narrator to this sudden, shocking event. Using the metaphor 'So long they don't take the yam / From my savouring mouth?' he considers that it is none of his business. As long as it doesn't affect him directly, why should he care?&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The second stanza recounts how 'they' took Danladi away 'to a lengthy absence'. He was taken during the night: not just taken, but dragged out in an episode that woke everyone in the house. Osundare uses the word 'booted' to convey the aggression here. Stanza three is somewhat less violent but equally chilling, showing that women were not spared from similar treatment. Chinwe was sacked from her job without any explanation or warning. The second and third stanzas are concluded in the same way as the first: the narrator is still adamant that he doesn't have to bother about such events, as long as 'they' leave him alone.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The fourth and final stanza, however, is in stark contrast to the first three. The narrator is sitting down to eat his yam when a knock comes on the door. He describes his reaction in no uncertain terms: 'A knock on the door froze my hungry hand.' The jeep is waiting for him this time, and he again uses personification to project his feelings onto his lawn, describing it as 'bewildered'. The ominous tone of the final line describing the jeep 'Waiting, waiting in its usual silence' is perhaps even more chilling than the contrasting account of the brutality of the events of the first two stanzas.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The fact the Osundare uses first names to recount what happened to Akanni, Danladi and Chinwe shows that these were either members of his family, housemates or close friends. It is striking that the events took place at different times of day: morning in the first stanza, night in the second, no specified time but presumably morning in the third, and evening in the fourth. This makes us feel that these people would always have to be on the alert and could be arrested or lose their job at any moment. Yet, seeing what happened to those close to him and knowing that it could happen at any time, the narrator did not initially seem to think that he was in any danger. The irony of course is in the title, 'Not my Business', since the jeep eventually came for the narrator himself.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Osundare here conveys the idea that people can disappear or lose their jobs for no apparent reason in places such as Nigeria. He expresses his concern that people may not care that this is happening, as long as they can carry on with their own lives as normal. Yet it can happen to anyone. Observers of such a situation need to care about such injustice and take action to prevent oppression.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4534118923383499945-3137471498504787109?l=poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/feeds/3137471498504787109/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2009/10/not-my-business.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/3137471498504787109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/3137471498504787109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2009/10/not-my-business.html' title='Not My Business'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17510237124879094691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5vmH7DRxg/SraLj_XBHoI/AAAAAAAAAVU/V7HBPeBlcvo/S220/IMG_2535.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4534118923383499945.post-6753572331518270625</id><published>2009-10-24T23:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-24T23:16:49.614-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Imtiaz Dharker'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stanza'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='alliteration'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='assonance'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='simile'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poem'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Blessing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='enjambment'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='metaphor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='imagery'/><title type='text'>Blessing</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Set in a village in Pakistan, Imtiaz Dharker's poem 'Blessing' opens with the simile 'The skin cracks like a pod' that immediately gives an impression of drought, of dire shortage of water. This is confirmed by the second line of the brief introductory stanza, formed of two sentences of one line each.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;As we enter the four-line second stanza, we are in no doubt as to the fact that the villagers here are desperate for water. Dharker involves the reader by asking us to 'Imagine the drip of it' – telling us how small the quantity is – and focuses on the sound of that drop of water resounding in a tin mug. The fourth line of this stanza introduces the first religious reference: even this small splash is personified as 'the voice of a kindly god'. God is seen as the provider of water, and every drop received is seen as a kind gesture.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The third stanza is the longest one, extending for eleven lines and describing a momentous event in the village. The bursting of a municipal pipe is a fortuitous occasion: it is described by the metaphor 'the sudden rush/of fortune'. Fortune of course has connotations of large sums of money as well as good luck, so the water that spills has tremendous value. This idea is echoed in another metaphor for the water in line nine: 'silver crashes to the ground'. The sound is a powerful one. Line ten flows into line eleven, and the water is described as a 'flow' that gives rise to a sudden burst of noise from the villagers, 'a roar of tongues'. The people rushing out from their huts to collect the water are refered to as a 'congregation', which is another religious link. Men, women and children from the surrounding area are eager for their share of the spilled water and come with any container they can lay their hands on, listed in the brief lines fourteen, fifteen and sixteen. The stanza concludes with the phrase 'frantic hands', which once again emphasises the desperation that leads the villagers to scoop even handfuls of water.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Dharker uses enjambment to link the third stanza to the fourth and final one. This focuses on the village children, on sound and bright light. The children, naked, are delighting in the chance to bathe in the water, 'screaming in the liquid sun'. This metaphor aligning the water to the sun emphasises the pleasure and warmth of the experience.  The 'highlights' in line twenty are echoed by 'flashing light' in the following line, giving a further impression of joy. Alliteration is used by Dharker in the phrases 'polished to perfection', and 'the blessing sings' combines alliteration and assonance, creating vivid imagery to portray the thrill of the occasion. The word 'blessing' continues the religious thread running through the poem. The final line again flows from the previous one: '... sings/over their small bones'. It is a gentle ending, focusing on the children of the village who are in such need of this water provided by accident.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The sentence that begins in line eight, the second line of the third stanza, continues right through to the end of the poem, flowing through from one line to the next like the water that is its theme. This is in stark contrast to the two sentences of the first stanza. Dharker has not set her poem within the confines of stanzas of regular length, suiting each stanza to its individual focus. The lines themselves also vary considerably in length. Lines nine, ten and thirteen have the rhyme ground, found and around, but this appears almost as an unintentional occurrence.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;'Blessing' is a wonderfully descriptive poem, using imagery to depict sight and sounds and create an atmosphere of frantic joy for an everyday resource that is usually so elusive in this particular setting.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4534118923383499945-6753572331518270625?l=poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/feeds/6753572331518270625/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2009/10/blessing.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/6753572331518270625'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/6753572331518270625'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2009/10/blessing.html' title='Blessing'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17510237124879094691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5vmH7DRxg/SraLj_XBHoI/AAAAAAAAAVU/V7HBPeBlcvo/S220/IMG_2535.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4534118923383499945.post-393469231537836881</id><published>2009-10-22T08:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-22T08:48:47.758-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Imtiaz Dharker'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stanza'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='personified'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='This room'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='alliteration'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poem'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='enjambment'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='metaphor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='imagery'/><title type='text'>This Room</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The first stanza of Imtiaz Dharker's poem 'This Room' creates an impression of seeking freedom, where her room is 'breaking out' of its confines and seeking 'space, light, empty air'. Change is afoot, a broadening of the horizon; an out-of-the-ordinary event seems to be taking place.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Dharker personifies the bed at the beginning of the second stanza as 'lifting out of its nightmares'. All negativity is being left behind, as chairs move out of their usual 'dark corners'. Heights are aimed for: alliteration and metaphor are used to create an image as the chairs 'crash through clouds'.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;A positive tone is set at the beginning of the third stanza with the lines “This is the time and place / to be alive'. Line twelve uses the metaphor 'the daily furniture of our daily lives / stirs' to express the idea of breaking out of one's routine 'when the improbable arrives'. A special event takes place but is not identified in the poem. Lines fourteen to fifteen introduce a description of the sounds and movements of kitchen utensils that 'bang together / in celebration, clang' and eventually 'fly' past the fan. They seem to be following the chairs skyward. The garlic, onions and spices are personified as a 'crowd' in this kitchen where all the components seem to be joining in some sort of celebration. 'No one is looking for the door' in line eighteen, the end of the third stanza, could be confusing: the poem appears to be about reaching beyond the confines of our ordinary everyday lives. But of course 'No one is looking for the door' need not be taken literally, as it can mean that no one wants to leave this place because there is something to celebrate here. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The first person is not used until the fourth stanza: 'I'm wondering where / I've left my feet'. The atmosphere is one of 'excitement', expressed by the fact that the narrator is apparently confused as to where her body physically is.  Dharker uses enjambment to connect the fourth stanza to the fifth, which consists of one solitary line that describes how the narrator's hands are 'outside, clapping', emphasising once more the idea of celebration.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;This is no straightforward poem, but rather an extended metaphor to describe an occasion when daily routine can be broken away from, left behind. The structure is irregular, with the third stanza being considerably longer than the other four, and the final one being just one line that attracts attention to the idea of being 'outside, clapping' – celebrating escape from the mundane, perhaps. There is an original use of imagery here that makes the poem a fascinating expression of an idea.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4534118923383499945-393469231537836881?l=poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/feeds/393469231537836881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2009/10/this-room.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/393469231537836881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/393469231537836881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2009/10/this-room.html' title='This Room'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17510237124879094691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5vmH7DRxg/SraLj_XBHoI/AAAAAAAAAVU/V7HBPeBlcvo/S220/IMG_2535.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4534118923383499945.post-4155634103534550322</id><published>2009-10-20T22:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-20T22:39:53.442-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='comparison'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rhyme'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Night of the Scorpion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='onomatopoeia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='simile'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poem'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Nissim Ezekiel alliteration'/><title type='text'>Night of the Scorpion</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Nissim Ezekiel's 'Night of the Scorpion' is the poet's personal account of his memory of his mother being stung by a scorpion when he was a child. He begins by explaining that the scorpion had come in because of heavy rain and had hidden under a sack of rice. Ezekiel uses alliteration to describe the moment of the sting: 'Parting with his poison'. He alludes to evil in the phrase 'diabolic tail', comparing the scorpion to the devil.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The scorpion departed and, on hearing the news of the deadly sting, villagers came to the house. Ezekiel uses the simile 'like swarms of flies' to describe their number and behaviour. He states that they 'buzzed the name of God' repeatedly, the onomatopoeia enabling us to 'hear' the constant noise they made. The scorpion is again seen as the devil in line ten: 'the Evil One'. We can imagine the fear of the child observing the scene, as the peasants' lanterns created 'giant scorpion shadows' on the walls of his home. Onomatopoeia is used again as the poet says that these people 'clicked their tongues' whilst searching for the scorpion. They believed that whenever the scorpion moved, its poison 'moved in Mother's blood'.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Line eighteen is the first in a fourteen-line section which recounts the words of wisdom voiced by the peasants in the hope that the woman would survive. Five of the lines begin 'May ...' and are clear examples of the religious beliefs held by these villagers. They refer to past and future lives, absolution of sins, the lessening of evil and the hope that the poison will 'purify' the woman's flesh and spirit. Ezekiel describes how they surrounded his mother; he saw 'the peace of understanding' in their facial expressions.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Lines thirty-two and thirty-three form a repetitive pattern in which Ezekiel remembers the arrival of 'More candles, more lanterns, more neighbours, / more insects' as the rain continued to fall. In line thirty-four he makes the first direct reference to his mother's suffering, telling us that she 'twisted through and through' and was groaning in pain. He then turns to the reaction of his father, not a religious man but 'sceptic, rationalist'. On this occasion, however, the man resorted to 'every curse and blessing' accompanied by various herbal concoctions, such was his desperation. Ezekiel describes in detail that his father actually set alight to the toe that had been bitten. It must have had a profound effect on the poet as a child; he describes how 'I watched the flame feeding on my mother', personifying the fire. Ezekiel then watched  and listened to a 'holy man' carrying out certain rites to 'tame' the poison. The poison lost its sting the following night.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The first forty-five lines form one continuous stanza relating the event from start to finish. The poem concludes with a short three-line stanza in which Ezekiel recalls his mother's reaction to her frightening and painful experience. She spoke of it only briefly, thanking God and saying how glad she was that the scorpion had chosen to sting her rather than her children. This was the boundless, selfless love of a mother, and these were words which Ezekiel never forgot.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;One of the interesting points about the poem is that Ezekiel narrates it from the point of view of a child who was purely an observer, not involved as the adults were in taking any action. This allows him to relate the actions and words of the peasants and his father whilst being detached from them. It is an insight into the behaviour of a small community in India where everyone becomes involved in one family or one mother's suffering, and all gather to witness the event and contribute a prayer. To the child it must have seemed as though there was a huge number of people, and the night must have been interminable. His comparison of the peasants to flies suggests that he would rather they had left the family in peace.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The structure of the poem is very free, with lines of varying lengths and no rhyme scheme. The second stanza that ends the poem attracts attention for its brevity and emphasises the words of the mother and their effect on the son.   &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4534118923383499945-4155634103534550322?l=poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/feeds/4155634103534550322/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2009/10/night-of-scorpion.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/4155634103534550322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/4155634103534550322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2009/10/night-of-scorpion.html' title='Night of the Scorpion'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17510237124879094691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5vmH7DRxg/SraLj_XBHoI/AAAAAAAAAVU/V7HBPeBlcvo/S220/IMG_2535.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4534118923383499945.post-8520531918824208167</id><published>2009-10-19T22:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-19T22:58:09.617-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stanza'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Moniza Alvi'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Presents from My Aunts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='simile'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poem'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='identity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pakistan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='metaphor'/><title type='text'>Presents from My Aunts in Pakistan</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Moniza Alvi was born of mixed parentage, her father being Pakistani and her mother English. She was born in Pakistan but moved to England at a young age. The poem 'Presents from My Aunts in Pakistan' expresses her confusion in her search for her identity. The traditional clothes that her aunts sent her from Pakistan are a symbol of a part of her, but only a part of her, and one that she does not feel entirely comfortable with.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The first stanza describes the clothes that were sent: two 'salwar kameez' outfits, which consist of a tunic dress and trousers. The beautiful vivid colours are described, the second one with the simile 'glistening like an orange split open'. Alvi tells us that the style of the salwar trousers changed, just as fashions in England change: they were 'broad and stiff, / then narrow.' The aunts also sent oriental pointed slippers, described as 'embossed', 'gold and black', as though they were very decorative. There were also bangles that were 'Candy-striped', but Alvi relates how these broke and 'drew blood'; this seems to be symbolic perhaps of the fact that her life in Pakistan was cut short. The first stanza ends with a description of a green, silver-bordered sari that the writer received as a teenager.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The second stanza relates how Alvi tried on these clothes – 'each silken-satin top'  -  but  felt 'alien' in her sitting-room. There is a definite sense here that the two cultures conflicted. Alvi seems to have felt a degree of inferiority when she says 'I could never be as lovely / as those clothes'. She wanted the 'denim and corduroy' that were typical of England. She describes how the Pakistani clothes 'clung' to her and uses the metaphor 'I was aflame', but, unlike the phoenix, she could not rise from the fire, and thus could not take on the Pakistani identity. She contrasts herself with one of her aunts, emphasising that she herself was 'half English, / unlike Aunt Jamila'.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The shorter third stanza focuses on a camel-skin lamp owned by her parents. Here again, there is a conflict of ideas: Alvi wanted the lamp, but looking at it in her room she simultaneously thought of the cruelty involved in making the lamp and admired its colours which she describes with the simile 'like stained glass'.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Stanza four switches to a comment on Alvi's English mother who 'cherished her jewellery'. The jewellery was Indian, and it was stolen from the family car; this perhaps symbolises the fact that the mother did not belong to the Asian culture. Alvi then alludes once more to the Pakistani clothes that were 'radiant' in her wardrobe. This stanza ends with the irony that the aunts who sent the traditional clothes themselves wanted 'cardigans / from Marks and Spencers'.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Alvi then relates how a visiting schoolfriend of hers did not appreciate the salwar kameez or sari when shown them. This leads into Alvi's expression of her admiration of the mirror-work in the Pakistani clothes. She tells us 'I / ... tried to glimpse myself / in the miniature / glass circles', but the fact that they were so small leads to our realization that Alvi would not have been able to see her whole reflection, just a fragment of herself, which underlines the idea of a split identity. She then tries to remember the journey she made from Pakistan to England at a very young age. 'Prickly heat had me screaming on the way' emphasises the idea of pain and the difficulty of being torn between two cultures. She recalls being in a cot in her English grandmother's home, and stresses being alone with a tin boat to play with after the long voyage.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Stanza six focuses on memories of Pakistan. Alvi looks at photographs taken in the 1950s to help her remember the country of her birth. Later, she read about the 'conflict' in Pakistan in newspapers, seeing it as 'a fractured land', which again reflects her own feeling of having a fractured identity. She can still picture her aunts in Lahore as they wrapped presents. They would have been hidden from 'male visitors' by a carved wooden screen – this idea again adds to the sense of not being able to see clearly, of fragmentation.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The final stanza opens with memories linked with poverty: 'beggars, sweeper-girls'. As though it were a dream, Alvi pictures herself as part of the scene, saying 'I was there - / of no fixed nationality'. This phrase tells us exactly how feels, in that she does not belong wholly to any one country. Like her aunts, she is behind a screen, or 'fretwork', looking out at the Shalimar Gardens. This echoes the image of her trying to see herself in the mirror-work of the Pakistani clothes, as in both instances a complete picture would have been hard to see. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The language of the poem is quite informal, appearing to flow from the writer's mind as many of the lines are indented in an irregular pattern. The visual aspect of the poem adds to the sense of uncertainty. The lines seem to move backwards and forwards on the page, echoing the idea of going to and fro between two cultures. This is a creative way of underlining the theme of the poem, the feeling of not really belonging to any one particular place, of being unsure of one's identity.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4534118923383499945-8520531918824208167?l=poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/feeds/8520531918824208167/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2009/10/presents-from-my-aunts-in-pakistan.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/8520531918824208167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/8520531918824208167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2009/10/presents-from-my-aunts-in-pakistan.html' title='Presents from My Aunts in Pakistan'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17510237124879094691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5vmH7DRxg/SraLj_XBHoI/AAAAAAAAAVU/V7HBPeBlcvo/S220/IMG_2535.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4534118923383499945.post-733876331703427889</id><published>2009-10-18T08:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-18T08:24:48.318-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Island Man'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rhyme'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stanza'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='alliteration'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Grace Nichols'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poem'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='enjambment'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='metaphor'/><title type='text'>Island Man</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Grace Nichols, born in Guyana but a resident of Britain since 1977, wrote the poem 'Island Man' 'for a Caribbean island man in London who still wakes up to the sound of the sea' (her own words). It is a poem of contrasts based on the two places that the man has known as home and is set as he is waking up in London.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The first stanza of five lines tells us that it is morning and that the man hears the sounds of the island 'in his head' as he wakes up. These are the sounds of nature, of the sea: 'blue surf' and waves 'breaking and wombing'. Wombing is an unusual verb used by Shakespeare to mean 'enclosing'; it is the final word of the first stanza but leads through enjambment to the 'wild seabirds' in the first line of the second stanza, as if the sea is about to give birth to the birds. In stanza two, which is six lines long, Nichols continues the theme of dreaming about the island as the fisherman set out to sea and the sun rises 'defiantly' (in contrast to London weather, of course). The images are again based in nature, and the colours in these initial stanzas are rich and beautiful: 'blue surf' and 'his small emerald island'.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Stanza two ends, however, with the phrase that tells us how the man has to emerge from his dream 'groggily groggily'; these words set to one side to emphasise that the dream has ended and a different setting is being introduced. The repetition of 'groggily' also serves to portray the idea that this is a reluctant, slow awakening. The third stanza consists of four lines, repeating the phrase 'comes back' from the end of the preceding stanza. Nichols tells us here that he comes back to 'sands', but as we continue to the next line we realise that these are metaphorical sands 'of a grey metallic soar'. The natural images change to man-made ones, and the beauty of the island's colours has switched to grey. The sounds of the sea have now turned into those of London traffic, with a 'surge of wheels' and a 'roar' on the North Circular road; the use of the adjective 'dull' to describe the road echoes the greyness two lines earlier. The 'surge of wheels' in line fourteen is pushed to one side as was the phrase 'groggily groggily', almost as though the man is trying to push the sounds of London out of his head.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;Enjambment is again used to connect to the fourth stanza which opens with the phrase 'muffling muffling', this time echoing the repetition of 'groggily groggily' and suggesting once again that there is a struggle to shut out one set of sounds in favour of another. Nichols uses the metaphor 'crumpled pillow waves' to link the ideas here back to the sounds and images of the sea at the beginning of the poem. The fact that the man 'heaves' himself out of bed gives the impression that he is unwilling to leave his dream of the Caribbean Island and face the reality of 'Another London day', the final line of the poem which is set apart from the previous stanza.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;The lack of punctuation in the poem allows the lines and stanzas to flow freely, underlining the image of the sea. The irregular lengths of both lines and stanzas form a visual pattern reminiscent of the ebb and flow of the tide on the shore. Rhyme is also irregular here, with just one or two rhyming words dotted here and there such as 'soar' and roar', perhaps to give a natural feel. Alliteration with soft 's' sounds features in the images of the island: 'sound of blue surf', 'sun surfacing'. We can find assonance in the final stanza, in the phrases 'muffling/his crumpled pillow...' and the final 'Another London day'.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman; min-height: 15.0px"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Times New Roman"&gt;'Island Man' is just nineteen lines in length, but Grace Nichols succeeds in presenting us with a concise poem that conjures up vividly the idea of a man who has left his native island in the hope of a better life in one of the world's great capital cities but finds himself longing for the simplicity and beautiful surroundings of the island of his birth.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4534118923383499945-733876331703427889?l=poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/feeds/733876331703427889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2009/10/island-man.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/733876331703427889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4534118923383499945/posts/default/733876331703427889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://poetryforgcseenglish.blogspot.com/2009/10/island-man.html' title='Island Man'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17510237124879094691</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jy5vmH7DRxg/SraLj_XBHoI/AAAAAAAAAVU/V7HBPeBlcvo/S220/IMG_2535.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
