Write an ode to fall--what does this season mean to you? How does fall look, sound, taste, smell, and feel? What sort of memories does fall elicit for you? How would you rank it as a season?
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Stealing this one from Couchman:
Check out this article: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2014/08/27/pop-sonnets-shakespeare_n_5718453.html Your task is to replicate this idea. Be creative...and 100% school appropriate! IF YOU COULD BE ANY ANIMAL IN RECORDED HISTORY, WHAT ANIMAL WOULD YOU CHOOSE? WHY? (LOOKING FOR A LOT OF ANALYSIS ON WHY YOU CHOSE THIS PARTICULAR ANIMAL)
Okay, time to start trying out your poetry analysis skills. No need to take apart the whole poem (DO NOT paraphrase or summarize the poem); rather, focus your analysis on an aspect or two that stands out to you. Fake bonus points for working in your new poetry terms.
This is one of our favorites of the Chilean poet’s works, a beautiful and sad ode to a lover. This particular work is much less surreal than many of his poems, but we love it. And let’s face it, not many people have been crowned by Gabriel Garcia Marquez as “the greatest poet of the 20th century in any language.” http://flavorwire.com/217118/10-poems-everyone-needs-to-read/9 I want you to know “If You Forget Me,” Pablo Neruda I want you to know one thing. You know how this is: if I look at the crystal moon, at the red branch of the slow autumn at my window, if I touch near the fire the impalpable ash or the wrinkled body of the log, everything carries me to you, as if everything that exists, aromas, light, metals, were little boats that sail toward those isles of yours that wait for me. Well, now, if little by little you stop loving me I shall stop loving you little by little. If suddenly you forget me do not look for me, for I shall already have forgotten you. If you think it long and mad, the wind of banners that passes through my life, and you decide to leave me at the shore of the heart where I have roots, remember that on that day, at that hour, I shall lift my arms and my roots will set off to seek another land. But if each day, each hour, you feel that you are destined for me with implacable sweetness, if each day a flower climbs up to your lips to seek me, ah my love, ah my own, in me all that fire is repeated, in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten, my love feeds on your love, beloved, and as long as you live it will be in your arms without leaving mine. |
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April 2020
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