Self Reflection Essay (Advanced Poetry):
Reflective piece: 3-4 pages, double-spaced:
Write about how you’ve grown as a poet this year, what has been easy/hard for you, what areas you feel you need more work in; reflect on your progress as a writer, a reader, and as a student.
Write about some of the poems you have chosen to include in your portfolio: why did you include these pieces in your portfolio? How does the piece show your growth and development as a writer in a particular genre? What did you learn about yourself concerning writing from this assignment or project?
Discuss the writing process you used to create the work, where you got your ideas, what you learned about the form or genre of the work as you wrote and revised it, what you learned about yourself as a writer, etc.
Discuss special projects and reading that had an impact on you.
Discuss the effect writer workshops had on your writing?
Discuss a GOAL you have as a writer for the rest of the year.
NO INAUGURAL POEM
Please read:
http://www.slate.com/blogs/browbeat/2017/01/19/why_it_matters_that_donald_trump_has_no_inaugural_poet.html
http://www.cnn.com/2017/01/19/opinions/inauguration-poem-dove-carr-opinion/index.html
http://poetry.about.com/od/poems/a/Presidential-Inauguration-Poems.htm
Links to poems:
https://www.teachervision.com/poetry/inaugural-poetry
“The Deer” – Mary Oliver
You never know.
The body of night opens
like a river, it drifts upward like white smoke,
The body of night opens
like a river, it drifts upward like white smoke,
like so many wrappings of mist.
And on the hillside two deer are walking along
just as though this wasn’t
And on the hillside two deer are walking along
just as though this wasn’t
the owned, tilled earth of today
but the past.
I did not see them the next day, or the next,
but the past.
I did not see them the next day, or the next,
but in my mind’s eye –
there they are, in the long grass,
like two sisters.
there they are, in the long grass,
like two sisters.
This is the earnest work. Each of us is given
only so many mornings to do it –
to look around and love
only so many mornings to do it –
to look around and love
the oily fur of our lives,
the hoof and the grass-stained muzzle.
Days I don’t do this
the hoof and the grass-stained muzzle.
Days I don’t do this
I feel the terror of idleness,
like a red thirst.
Death isn’t just an idea.
like a red thirst.
Death isn’t just an idea.
When we die the body breaks open
like a river;
the old body goes on, climbing the hill.
like a river;
the old body goes on, climbing the hill.
“The Deer” (House of Light) by Mary Oliver
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