Ever wondered what how to express your feelings? Ever heard of poetry? If not, then you certainly should.
"There are as many definitions of poetry as there are poets. Wordsworth defined poetry as "the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings;" Emily Dickinson said, "If I read a book and it makes my body so cold no fire ever can warm me, I know that is poetry;" and Dylan Thomas defined poetry this way: "Poetry is what makes me laugh or cry or yawn, what makes my toenails twinkle, what makes me want to do this or that or nothing." These are some quotes from famous people telling what poetry is to them. There are many different poetry types, for example: couplets, cinquain and free verse. In my words, poetry is a way to describe your feelings, and a stack of words that don't even have to have a meaning. They might not make sense to you, but to the writer they certainly do. Poetry doesn't have to rhyme, it only has to be seen by others. When I write a poem, I write whatever I want to write about. Sometimes that is probably the hardest part about writing. Writing poems is definitively not my favorite, and I am not even that good at it, I prefer writing essays and paragraphs but writing poems is something that belongs to life.
One important fact you should always remember, is that poetry has its poetic devices. These include:
Alliteration: the repetition of initial sounds
Assonance: The repetition of vowel sounds
Imagery: Words or phrases that appeal to any sense or any combination of senses
Metaphor: a comparison between two objects: is or was
Meter: The recurrence of a pattern of stressed and unstressed syllables
Onomatopoeia: The use of words which imitate sound
Personification: A figure of speech which endows inanimate objects with human traits
Point of view: the way its seen, 1st 2nc or 3rd person
Repetition: the repeating words, phrases,lines or stanzas
Rhyme: The similarity of ending sounds existing between two words
Stanza: a grouping of two or more lines of a poem in the terms of length, metrical form, or rhyme scene.
Simile: A comparison between two objects using a specific word or comparison such as : like,as or than.
So practically Poetic devices are just little things a poem could have but doesn't have to have all.
One of my favorite poems is called Forever and Always
All the bullies coming my way
Getting teased every single day.
Boy do they have nerve,
But I still wonder, is this really what I deserve?
But I was little then,
I just took it all in.
I let them say what they wanted to say,
It wasn't my problem anyway.
All through elementary without a real friend,
Just hoping that wasn't how it would end.
High school came along soon enough,
I guess everyone just grew up.
There was one person who stood out of the crowd
She was like my little sis,
She made me so proud.
But my world got twisted around,
I felt like I couldn't make a sound.
The relationship with my one true friend,
was about to come to an abrupt end.
She was going through so much,
Her good friends losing all her trust.
They'd make fun of her in every way,
Just like they did back in my day.
The way some girls tore her apart,
It completely broke my heart.
To see her get so sad,
made me outrageously mad.
They put her through hell and back
I just kept telling her, that,
"You need to forget about them,
They were never your true friends."
She knew it was true
but could never follow through.
She let them walk all over her again and again,
I was afraid her heart would soon melt.
She does not deserve this, neither did I.
I tell her again and again, I really do try.
I want her to be happy, to be free.
Then maybe I'd be able to leave her peacefully.
She's afraid to be alone, I would be too.
But I know she would be able to pull through.
She is stronger than I will ever be,
That is what I wish she could see.
I try to be that steady person in her life,
To be the only one who doesn't cut her like a knife.
A 1000 miles away, she'll always be in my heart.
I just wish she could make a new start.
When you see me I may look fine,
But every time you turn away I cry.
Leaving you is something I could never do.
And saying goodbye, never to you.
Our time as friends was so little,
but my love for you will never dwindle.
You are more than my little sister,
Just know I'll always miss you!
I chose this as my favorite poem because it kind of has links to my life, and describes how I feel some times. This poem has many rhymes but also makes sense and uses advanced words. So after all, I hope you now understand more about poems, and go on, make your own! http://contemporarylit.about.com/od/poetry/a/poetry.htm
Ever thought what it would be to be a butter? Read on and find out! My life is more adventurous than you can think. Being wrapped in an aluminum foil is not the best place for breathing. But who am I kidding? I don’t need to breathe! I come out in all shapes and my best ingredient is milk. I can’t even count how many siblings I have, you would be dead by the time I finished counting. But I bet no one’s life is like mine. It’s already unbelievable I am able to communicate with you; your language is totally different to the one I am used to. See, before I tell you anything, you should know that there are a certain amount of stages butter goes through. And sorry, my name is Bee Butter. In my words, I am not a child, but compared to you, my whole population is miniature. Understand one thing, there are advanced butters, and butters like me. Don’t think you are the only ones with educational systems; ours are pretty much the same. Except for one little detail, our life depends on our luck. We don’t see white light when we die; we feel a little pain usually in our stomachs, because that’s how the machines lay us down into the paper. Butter is pretty squash able, but when we do get squashed, you might assume we die, but actually no, we don’t. Let me tell you a bit about my life.
“Good morning sunshine! Oh wait, how come am I speaking?”My first sign I was born. Plump, I dropped on a hard surface facing up. To my left were some big yellow stacks of butter. But I wasn’t fixed, I was moving forward and forward. I fell asleep right after I fell, it was too much for me, I was tired. I woke up the next day, finding myself standing like a soldier in the desert, surrounded by other bystanders. I was smashed together with the others, I remember the awful smell of sweat, it was just disgusting. Across the shelf I was placed in, was the milk. After staying in the shop for about a month or so, I found out I was located in the Mercator supermarket. But I was a baby back then, I had no idea what I was or for what I was used for, I didn’t know that the market is all about danger. One night, the lights went off, but it was not like usual, it wasn’t 10 yet…I heard random noises coming from all sides, and suddenly a hand reaches out for me and some other ingredients. How can it see me? It’s dark! Being stuffed into a bag was very hard because I was pretty sure I would fall to the bottom, at least that’s what I was told, but this time I was just placed down and was holding my balance making sure not to fall out of the bag. The mysterious man, who “stole” me and the others from the shop, had a huge house with a great kitchen. In my words, the kitchen was extraordinary; never in my life did I see something that gorgeous. I didn’t understand one thing though, why did he wear gloves whenever he was in the kitchen? I was taken out of the shop pretty early, so I didn’t know anything about health but had some idea. First of all, I thought that he forgot to take the gloves off after he came from the garden. His whole day was based on the garden, which was weird at first but after living in his house I discovered he was a gardener and needed the gloves to make sure he doesn’t get affected by any germs or tiny insects. HE was like my best friend, it might sound weird at first, but really, he would talk to me every day. He was the best singer I ever knew, his voice was just great! Unfortunately I was separated from him when I was about 3 years old. That is a lot for a butter, we died when people, animals or anything eats us. That’s not how I died, or was about to die. A huge earthquake happened in 2005, this day was probably the saddest one in my life. My owner immediately took me and all the other foods into a bag and started running out of the house into the city. If his house would have been built better, we probably wouldn’t have had to run off. Anyways, while he was running, a small whole opened in his bag, it was very minute, but big enough for me to fall through. You don’t really notice anything when a butter falls to the floor, and that’s exactly what happened here. I was on the floor, lying there while an earthquake was happening. Believe it or not, I wasn’t in panic, but the scariest part of all, was that cars where moving around me. Talking about danger in the market, that was nothing compared to this. When the earthquake finished and I was finally in peace, a little girl ran around the streets and found me lying there. I’m not sure if her mum was very happy to see her running into the backyard with me in her hands. I was starting to melt, but she was so joyful there was no way I could fade away. Sometimes little kids are unbelievable, this little girl got her mum to make a whole in the wall and add cold air, something like a refrigerator except that there was a glass miniature door separating me from her. I will never forget her. By now, they probably already moved out of the house. Honestly, I can’t wait to die now, I am still hidden behind that glass door which is not covered with a wall. The new owners didn’t see a reason of why seeing a butter in the wall. That little girl changed my life, she is my hero, my friend but mostly my everything. Because of her, I had a real life, because of her I am what I am. But now it’s time to go. I bet everyone has a hero in their life, and my hero, is probably somewhere around you. You don’t know her, but she knows me.
