1. Poetry Dedication Project 2012
Dedication Page
To Mom and Dad,
I dedicate these poems and this project to you for many reasons. One as a thank you for
all the things you have done for me as I’ve grown up.
Mom, thank you for all the thousands of times you made dinner for me, for all the times
you checked my boring school papers, for all the times you read me Shel Silverstein, for all the
times you drove me to piano, for the times you were there for me when I was sick and for
everything else you’ve done for me.
Dad, thank you for being a great mentor on how to be a man of character, for being an
example for us, for teaching me how to be a hard worker when many kids don’t know how, for
showing me how the washing machine works, for being the inspiration behind building the “pig
hut,” for helping us on our 4H show days and for being my dad.
Two because I think you’ll both enjoy the variety of poems I have picked to analyze. The
poems are in order of one of mine, then a published, then one of mine and etc. etc. So thanks
again! Enjoy
2. Truffula Town
She wanted a Truffula tree,
Mine did,
So I got her one,
Said, “This is for you, from me.”
Her eyes widened,
Her jaw dropped into a smile,
She threw her arms round my neck,
Whispered, “Is this real or pretend?”
I took her in mine,
Smiled,
Whispered back, “For me to know,
For you to find.”
We took it out in the forest,
Planted it secretly,
Together we watched it grow,
It grew taller and better than the rest.
It’s our getaway place,
Her and I,
Solely for relaxing,
It’s a homey space.
Now our tree is all grown,
We harvested the seeds,
Planted a hundred more,
Now we have Truffula Town.
I wrote this poem for a girl who is special to me. We have an ongoing inside joke about
Truffula Tree from Dr. Seuss’s “The Lorax” so I decided to write a poem about it. This is just a
hypothetical idea that if we were together and I had a Truffula seed, we would plant a forest of
Truffula trees and watch them grow. This girl has an obsession with Dr. Seuss’s imaginary
trees, so reading this poem made her laugh.
The poem consists of seven stanzas of four line easy to understand poetry with ABCA
rhyme scheme. The tone of this poem is of gentle caring voice. There isn’t really any title
symbolism in this poem other than the obvious fact that we plant and care for Truffula Town in
the deep reaches of the forest. I like to think of this poem, not as a love poem, but as an
appreciation of a great friendship. Some people can’t really imagine a teenage boy and girl just
being friends, but she and I are just that and have a great relationship. I am very thankful for
that.
3. Often times when I’m having a hard time, I can talk to her about it, and vice versa. We
give each other advice and comfort in times of distress. She’s the girl I wrote the Chameleon
and Lightning Storm poem for as seen below. She’s a great friend and I wouldn’t trade that
friendship for anything. Often times we as humans take things for granted, for example,
relationships. I encourage you, reader, to not take your relationships or friendships for granted.
Seize them and cherish them.
Forgotten Language
byShel Silverstein
Once I spoke the language of the flowers,
Once I understood each word the caterpillar said,
Once I smiled in secret at the gossip of the starlings,
And shared a conversation with the housefly
in my bed.
Once I heard and answered all the questions
of the crickets,
And joined the crying of each falling dying
flake of snow,
Once I spoke the language of the flowers. . . .
How did it go?
How did it go?
Shel Silverstein writes poetry for children and has many different volumes. This
particular poem comes from the volume, “Where the Sidewalk Ends,” which was published in
1974. The poem Forgotten Language by Shel Silverstein is presumably about the author. He
speaks of once understanding and knowing the, “…language of the flowers…” and talking,
“…with the housefly…” which one can interpret as being a child and seeing the world for the
first time. The reader can assume that because a child cannot talk to any other humans,
Silverstein believes they are the closet to nature out of all of humanity.
The title symbolism of this poem, is about when a child grows older, and they begin to
learn to speak, then the “language” of babies is forgotten. Silverstein insinuates that this “baby
language” is the closet human capability of speaking with and being a part of nature. Dynamics
of the poem include a very loose rhyme scheme with an even looser overall structure. The rhyme
scheme of the entire poem is ABCBDEFEE. The tone of the poem is gentle and passive, almost
like a child asking a question right before they drift off to sleep. The theme of this poem is one of
reflection as an older person reflects back on when they were a child. Silverstein uses easy to
understand language because he mostly writes for children. In this easy to understand language,
he incorporates many vivid pictures for the reader such as speaking with flowers, caterpillars,
starlings, houseflies, crickets and snowflakes.
I included this poem in this dedication because my mother. When we were little, she used
to read Shel Silverstein poems to my brothers and I before we went to bed. She would always
read them with different voices and with different emotions. I have great memories of her
reading Silverstein to us.
4. The Discus Chucker
I spin round and keep my body tight.
A heave ho and it’s off in flight,
I release with a battle cry,
It soars into the sky.
Then I stop my turn,
I watch it sail and try to learn.
Try to understand what went wrong,
It has its own kind of song.
If you don’t play it perfect,
Then the entire throw is a defect.
I wrote this poem during track season while I was mentally preparing for a meet later in
the day. I’m a thrower, so when we arrive at the track, the team splits up into its different groups:
runners, sprinters, jumpers and throwers. The throwing pits are usually away from the track, so
we have to lug our heavy gear all the way over to the pits. Therefore, throwers usually have a
feeling of being a completely different track team because we are nowhere near the other part of
the actual team. This gives us a bond of a something close to that of a tightly knit family.
This poem paints a vivid picture line by line of a thrower throwing a discus. The proper
technique is to spin, and then some yell when they release the implement, next you stop your
momentum to watch the disc land. Judging on how the disc flew and landed, you can tell what
you did wrong and how to improve your next throw.
I included this poem because I believe this gives a very accurate picture of a person
throwing a discus. I also included it because I find track to be a very fun sport. It’s an individual
sport but also a team sport, much like wrestling. But it’s more than that, I like track because of
the throwing community. When you go to a meet, other throwers are encouraging and supportive
of each other even though we’re on different teams. It’s a very unique sport and event.
Messy Room
byShel Silverstein
Whosever room this is should be ashamed!
His underwear is hanging on the lamp.
His raincoat is there in the overstuffed chair,
And the chair is becoming quite mucky and damp.
His workbook is wedged in the window,
His sweater's been thrown on the floor.
His scarf and one ski are beneath the TV,
And his pants have been carelessly hung on the door.
His books are all jammed in the closet,
His vest has been left in the hall.
A lizard named Ed is asleep in his bed,
And his smelly old sock has been stuck to the wall.
Whosever room this is should be ashamed!
5. Donald or Robert or Willie or--
Huh? You say it's mine? Oh, dear,
I knew it looked familiar!
Shel Silverstein writes poetry for children and has many different volumes. This
particular poem comes from the volume “A Light in the Attic,” which was published in 1981.
The poem Messy Room by Shel Silverstein is about a boy who is complaining about a messy
bedroom. The boy asks whose room it is, but then realizes the room belongs to him. The boy is
presumably speaking quite loudly, if not yelling, to the other members of the household while he
describes the room very vividly using adjectives like, “overstuffed,” “mucky” and “smelly old”
to describe chairs and socks.
The poem is written in Iambic pentameter with an ABCB, DEFE rhyme scheme. As
previously stated there are many instances where Silverstein uses vivid language and imagery to
show the scene to his readers as opposed “telling” the scene. For example, Silverstein uses
alliteration in the fifth line when he says, “…workbook is wedged in the window…” The tone of
the poem is mixture of frustration in the beginning when the speaker is examining the room.
Then the tone shifts to possible bewilderment and embarrassment as the speaker realizes the
room is his own. The title symbolism of this poem is self-explanatory because the poem is about
a messy room. Silverstein does not use complicated language or words in his works making it
easier for a younger child to comprehend.
Some people might believe that this poem has a deeper meaning other than the obvious
meaning being just a silly child’s poem. Some might believe that this could be a father looking at
his room from earlier in his life; before he knows that it’s his room, he points out all the things
wrong with it. Then the father realizes what he’s looking at, and his point of view of his own life
is changed. Silverstein also could have been saying something like not to “judge a book by its
cover.” Personally, I believe this poem was just meant to be a light and happy poem for children.
As stated in a previous Silverstein explication, I included this poem in this dedication
because of my mother. She always read to my brothers and I before we went to bed and she often
read us Silverstein using different voices and such.
Chameleon and Lightning Storm
The chameleon sits in disguise,
One eye watching left, the other right,
Waiting for some lonely insect to wander by,
It strikes with speed and accuracy and devours its meal.
The articulate lightning storm displays great patience as it waits for the right moment,
Then suddenly, the sky is lit as the lightning looks for a place to touch down,
Furious, it does not find a high enough place, and moves on,
But then, it strikes a tree and devours it in flames.
I wrote this poem a little after my best friend and I had watched a lightning storm
together. She was having a hard time and said it was just nice to relax and watch the lightning
6. storm. I chose to compare the storm to a chameleon because I like reptiles. I was just sitting
and thinking what I should compare the storm to when all of the sudden a chameleon popped in
my head. After I started thinking about it, I noticed that they do have a few things in common.
For example, they are both very sudden; a chameleon sits and waits for a lonely insect to
wander by and then strikes with speed. Lightning also waits for static electricity to build up
between the clouds and then touches down on the ground.
This particular poem is written in free verse and has no rhyme scheme. The tone of the
poem is somewhat expectant, as if a person was waiting for a big event or explosion to happen,
and then all at once everything explodes.
I wouldn’t have been able to write this poem if I didn’t have the experience of watching
the storm with my friend, therefore, I want to dedicate this poem to her.
Mother to Son
by Langston Hughes
Well, son, I'll tell you:
Life for me ain't been no crystal stair.
It's had tacks in it,
And splinters,
And boards torn up,
And places with no carpet on the floor --
Bare.
But all the time
I'se been a-climbin' on,
And reachin' landin's,
And turnin' corners,
And sometimes goin' in the dark
Where there ain't been no light.
So, boy, don't you turn back.
Don't you set down on the steps.
'Cause you finds it's kinder hard.
Don't you fall now --
For I'se still goin', honey,
I'se still climbin',
And life for me ain't been no crystal stair.
The poem Mother to Son by Langston Hughes, published in 1922, is a mother’s word to
her son about her life. She speaks mostly of how her life has been, “no crystal stair…” meaning
that she’s had a rough life. The speaker makes the allusion of life being like a staircase. She hints
that as time passes and one grows older, one moves farther up on the staircase. I believe that the
staircase could also be thought of as the ladder to heaven. She goes on to explain that her life has
had, “…splinters… boards torn up… and places with no carpet…” as a way to express the
hardships of her life.
One can assume that the mother is basically telling her son that his life is going to be hard
because her life was hard. Given the time frame, one can assume that his mother is talking about
racial discrimination towards blacks, because Hughes uses the dialogue to clearly show the
7. reader to that this is a black mother speaking to her child. Then she goes on to tell him not to,
“… set down on those steps… [not to]… turn back…” and to have determination and
perseverance. It could almost be taken as something like, “you can’t sit down and take a break
because I haven’t and I’ve been going a lot longer than you,” but tone of the poem is not that
harsh so we know the mother is speaking out of love.
Dynamics of this poem include free verse with no apparent rhyme scheme and a loving
and encouraging tone. Hughes obviously meant this to be a great work straight from the heart as
opposed to just “another poem.” I appreciate this poem because it flows so perfectly and I can
clearly picture a mother telling her son all these things while she stares down into his big brown
eyes and is captivated by the sight of her beautiful baby boy. She would do anything for him, but
physical possessions will not express that love, so she gives him knowledge of how to press on
through life even when things are tough while she cradles him in her arms.
An Ode to Mummy
I love my Mummy.
Her food is good in my tummy,
She makes it smell so yummy.
What's best, is free, no money.
When over comes my buddy,
He sniffs, smiles, and says, "I love your mummy."
Mmmmm.... so yummy.
I say, "I want more, Mummy!"
I wrote this poem last year while I was sitting at my kitchen table smelling the smells of
the kitchen as my mother cooked a delicious dinner. As one can see it’s a very simple poem with
a rhyme scheme of AAA etc. all the way throughout the poem. While I was writing this poem, I
was trying to go for a childlike point of view and I believe I achieved that quite easily. This
poem is for my mom. My mother is a stay at home mom, but she has a fulltime job of raising
four boys. Therefore, she does things like cleaning, laundry, and cooking among countless other
things. The one I most appreciate out of all of them is her cooking. All of those other things we
boys could do by ourselves, but she does then out of love. Except, the one thing we could not do,
is cook as well as she can. We have our own gourmet chef who cooks for us each night. I wrote
this poem to try to express how much I appreciate her cooking. When I leave home for longer
periods of time, I always come back and say, “Mom, I missed your cooking!” which always
makes her smile and laugh.
8. If
by Rudyard Kipling
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
' Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
if neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!
The poem If written in 1895 by Rudyard Kipling is about a father speaking to his son
about the things of life and a boy turning into a man. Some could argue that this poem is not a
father speaking to his son, but instead the Father, meaning God, speaking to his son Adam in the
Garden of Eden. But I believe that this poem is a combination of both. I believe that this poem is
God, speaking through an earthly father to God’s and the earthly father’s son.
9. The poem is filled literary devices from talking about people “losing their… [heads],” to
talking about how dreams can be made ones master. The tone is stern but not scolding. The tone
is more like a father stating rules to children before he leaves the house. The structure of the
poem is very common Iambic Pentameter. The rhyme scheme of this poem is also very common
with ABAB, CDCD with a few exceptions when the poem starts out with AAAA and then
moves into BCBC. The poem uses modern language as opposed to classical speech or something
like difficult Shakespearean language.
I chose this poem because my father especially likes the poet Rudyard Kipling. I also
chose this poem because it reminds me of my father, of how he raises my brothers and me and
tries to be a good example and role model for all of us. This poem appeals to my tastes because I
believe it is a good set of rules to live by to be a man of character.
Public Speaking
I know I’ll be fine,
I’ll just take my time.
Public speaking is one of the things I most hate,
Makes me sick, like something gross I just ate.
Sweaty palms, shaking voice,
Have to do it, don’t have a choice,
I’ve already agreed to do this,
Close my eyes, clench my fists.
I walk up there alone,
Like a pioneer into the unknown.
So I say my part,
Straight from my heart,
I look straight ahead,
Everything runs through my head.
And then all of the sudden…
The deed is done,
And I have won.
I wrote this poem while I was stressing out about a public speaking event that was
coming up in my life. I hate public speaking, therefore, I was very stressed out and nervous so I
decided to write a poem about it. In my head I knew I would be fine, it was just the actual
anticipation of speaking. Things like, “Am I going to mess up?” “What if I stutter?” “What if I
10. lose my train of thought?” and more were running through my head. Part of me was stressing out
and the other part was saying, “Stop freaking out! You’ll be fine!” so I just had to keep listening
to the confident side of me.
When the time eventually came when I had to speak, I was nervous and yet somewhat
confident that I’d be ok. From the moment you first stand up to walk in front of all the people,
you think, “Well, there’s no going back now, I have to finish this.” I dislike that feeling very
much. But I spoke and gave my talk for a few minutes and then sat back down. I felt very
relieved that it was finally over. I also felt proud because I had done a good job and didn’t mess
up.
A Late Walk
By Robert Frost
When I go up through the mowing field,
The headless aftermath,
Smooth-laid like thatch with the heavy dew,
Half closes the garden path.
And when I come to the garden ground,
The whir of sober birds
Up from the tangle of withered weeds
Is sadder than any words
A tree beside the wall stands bare,
But a leaf that lingered brown,
Disturbed, I doubt not, by my thought,
Comes softly rattling down.
I end not far from my going forth
By picking the faded blue
Of the last remaining aster flower
To carry again to you.
Robert Frost wrote this poem, “A Late Walk” in 1913 as a way to show his deep
11. depression regarding the change of seasons between summer and autumn. Frost had a
deep connection with nature, therefore, the changing of the seasons saddened him. The
way he described the song birds as being, “…sadder than any words…” proves that
fact.
There is also an odd ball throw into this poem when Frost talks about bringing
back a flower, “…again to you.” Given the depressing mode of the poem, I personally
believe that Frost is talking about a loved one who has died. The way Frost phrases this
line to say the word “again” could possibly hint that this is a between seasons tradition
for him to honor a loved one. It could also be that two friends can no longer be friends
anymore, and one of them is depressed because of it. That friend then takes a walk and
compares his/her mood to the depressing time when the vegetation is dying.
Dynamics of this poem include an ABCB rhyme scheme with the structure of the
poem being end-stopped Iambic tetrameter for lines A and C, and Iambic trimeter for B
lines. The poem has a depressed and deeply miserable tone given the fact that Frost
dislikes the period between seasons. The title of this poem symbolizes taking a walk
late in the season when things seem so low and Frost is saddened to his core.
I chose to include this poem in this dedication because Frost has a completely
different perspective than I do regarding the changing of the seasons. I find it interesting
that while Frost sees the falling leaves as a symbol of death, I see them as a sign of
rest. Meaning that I believe the trees shed their leaves, rest during the winter, and then
come back full force during spring with twice as much energy as they had during the fall.
Therefore, I look forward to the changing of the seasons because it excites me to think
of how all the growth of vegetation will explode with life as the snow of winter melts
away.
12. Bibliography Page
Websites
-----------------
Silverstein, Shel. “The Forgotten Language.”Famous Poems and Poets.Web.n.d. 17
May. 2012. <http://famouspoetsandpoems.com/poets/shel_silverstein/poems/14830>
Silverstein, Shel. “Messy Room.”Famous Poems and Poets.Web.n.d. 14 May. 2012.
<http://famouspoetsandpoems.com/poets/shel_silverstein/poems/14818>
Hughes, Langston. “Mother to Son.”Famous Poems and Poets.Web.n.d. 12 May. 2012.
<http://famouspoetsandpoems.com/poets/langston_hughes/poems/16948>
Kipling, Rudyard. “If.”Classic Poetry Aloud.Web.n.d. 2 May. 2012.
<http://classicpoetryaloud.podomatic.com/entry/2007-06-03T12_50_03-07_00>
Frost, Robert. “A Late Walk.”Net Poets.Web.n.d. 25 April. 2012.
<http://www.netpoets.com/classic/poems/076012.htm>
