Poetry Friday

One Friday afternoon not *too* long ago, our family (including a friend and a few cousins) spent a few lovely hours mesmerized by our regionals competition of the Poetry Out Loud National Recitation Competition. There were only a handful of competitors (including Ria!), but the competition was stiff, the poetry was excellent and the performances were really wonderful.

Each competitor was required to have three prepared poems from an extensive approved list that can be found here. Ria chose three that she already loved: G.K. Chesterton's "The Donkey", Joyce Kilmer's "Trees" and Shakespeare's Sonnet 29, "When In Disgrace, with Fortune and Men's Eyes".

Here is her performance of "The Donkey": (With special thanks to Dr. Thursday.)



She did very well and came in 4th place out of seven (the top 3 went on to State). We're very proud of her!

Here's a poem I had never heard before, but particularly enjoyed from the competition:

"Teaching English from an Old Composition Book" by Gary Soto

My chalk is no longer than a chip of fingernail,

Chip by which I must explain this Monday

Night the verbs “to get;” “to wear,” “to cut.”

I’m not given much, these tired students,

Knuckle-wrapped from work as roofers,

Sour from scrubbing toilets and pedestal sinks.

I’m given this room with five windows,

A coffee machine, a piano with busted strings,

The music of how we feel as the sun falls,

Exhausted from keeping up.

I stand at

The blackboard. The chalk is worn to a hangnail,

Nearly gone, the dust of some educational bone.

By and by I’m Cantiflas, the comic

Busybody in front. I say, “I get the coffee.”

I pick up a coffee cup and sip.

I click my heels and say, “I wear my shoes.”

I bring an invisible fork to my mouth

And say, “I eat the chicken.”

Suddenly the class is alive—

Each one putting on hats and shoes,

Drinking sodas and beers, cutting flowers

And steaks—a pantomime of sumptuous living.

Read the rest at the Poetry Out Loud website here.

And you can find the Poetry Friday round up here.

Speaking of Friendly Competition

Three of my kids participated in academic competitions in the last week.

Gus and Terri took part in the Geography Bee. It's been really motivating for them to learn more geography and they had fun. Both made it into the final round by the skin of their teeth at which point Gus did very well and made it to the head-to-head championship round. After about seven tied answers (only one incorrect), his competitor pulled off a win. It was very exciting!

Ria competed in the Poetry Out Loud National Recitation Contest and came in first place in the local competition! She'll move on to the regionals next month. If you've been following this blog for awhile, you know that poetry and memorized recitations have been some of Ria's favorite things for many years. (For which I should also credit Laura Berquist's suggestions, our long-running monthly co-op recitals and G.K. Chesterton!) They were required to have two piece of memorized poetry from an approved list and she chose Chesterton's The Donkey and Shakespeare's Sonnet XXIX. She needs to have a third poem for the regionals and has chosen Trees by Joyce Kilmer. Unfortunately I wasn't able to attend the competition, but am looking forward to hearing her recite at the regionals.

Poetry Friday - Ode on a Grecian Urn

...because we've been watching (as in "I've watched three episodes so far") the fascinating "Classical Archaeology of Greece and Rome" from the Teaching Company this week. As much as this is a famous and parodied poem and all that, I had never read it in its entirety until today.

Ode on a Grecian Urn by John Keats

(first published in 1820)

THOU still unravish'd bride of quietness,
Thou foster-child of Silence and slow Time,
Sylvan historian, who canst thus express
A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme:
What leaf-fringed legend haunts about thy shape
Of deities or mortals, or of both,
In Tempe or the dales of Arcady?
What men or gods are these? What maidens loth?
What mad pursuit? What struggle to escape?
What pipes and timbrels? What wild ecstasy?

Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard
Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on;
Not to the sensual ear, but, more endear'd,
Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone:
Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave
Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare;
Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss,
Though winning near the goal—yet, do not grieve;
She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss,
For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair!

Ah, happy, happy boughs! that cannot shed
Your leaves, nor ever bid the Spring adieu;
And, happy melodist, unwearièd,
For ever piping songs for ever new;
More happy love! more happy, happy love!
For ever warm and still to be enjoy'd,
For ever panting, and for ever young;
All breathing human passion far above,
That leaves a heart high-sorrowful and cloy'd,
A burning forehead, and a parching tongue.

Who are these coming to the sacrifice?
To what green altar, O mysterious priest,
Lead'st thou that heifer lowing at the skies,
And all her silken flanks with garlands drest?
What little town by river or sea-shore,
Or mountain-built with peaceful citadel,
Is emptied of its folk, this pious morn?
And, little town, thy streets for evermore
Will silent be; and not a soul, to tell
Why thou art desolate, can e'er return.

O Attic shape! fair attitude! with brede
Of marble men and maidens overwrought,
With forest branches and the trodden weed;
Thou, silent form! dost tease us out of thought
As doth eternity: Cold Pastoral!
When old age shall this generation waste,
Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe
Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st,
'Beauty is truth, truth beauty,—that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.'

I found the poem at Bartleby

Commentary available here (courtesy of Brooklyn College)

Photo courtesy of Duke Magazine

Poetry Friday Roundup to be found at Kellyrfineman's Blog

And thanks to Karen for reminding me.