I have been one acquainted with the night. I have walked out in
rain -- and back in rain. I have outwalked the furthest city light.
I have looked down the saddest city lane. I have passed by the
watchman on his beat And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain. I
have stood still and stopped the sound of feet When far away an
interrupted cry Came over houses from another street, But not to
call me back or say good-bye; And further still at an unearthly
height, O luminary clock against the sky Proclaimed the time was
neither wrong nor right. I have been one acquainted with the
night.
Slide 3
The man for wisdom's various arts renown'd, Long exercised in
woes, O Muse! resound; Who, when his arms had wrought the destined
fall Of sacred Troy, and razed her heaven-built wall, Wandering
from clime to clime, observant stray'd, Their manners noted, and
their states survey'd, On stormy seas unnumber'd toils he bore,
Safe with his friends to gain his natal shore: Vain toils! their
impious folly dared to prey On herds devoted to the god of day; The
god vindictive doom'd them never more (Ah, men unbless'd!) to touch
that natal shore. Oh, snatch some portion of these acts from fate,
Celestial Muse! and to our world relate.
Slide 4
, , , , , , . , , , . , , , .
Slide 5
Slide 6
, , , , , , , , ' , ' , ' , . , , .
Slide 7
Full fathom five thy father lies; Of his bones are coral made;
Those are pearls that were his eyes; Nothing of him that doth fade
But doth suffer a sea-change Into something rich and strange.
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell: Hark! now I hear them-Ding-dong
bell.
Slide 8
'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves Did gyre and gimble in the
wabe; All mimsy were the borogoves, And the mome raths outgrabe.
'Beware the Jabberwock, my son! The jaws that bite, the claws that
catch! Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun The frumious
Bandersnatch!'
Slide 9
Buffalo Bill 's defunct who used to ride a watersmooth-silver
stallion and break onetwothreefourfive pigeonsjustlikethat Jesus he
was a handsome man and what i want to know is how do you like your
blueeyed boy Mister Death
Slide 10
Slide 11
Slide 12
Definitions: A.Poetry: literature that evokes a concentrated
imaginative awareness of experience or a specific emotional
response through language chosen and arranged for its meaning,
sound, and rhythm. (Brittanica) B.Literature: a body of written
works. The name has traditionally been applied to those imaginative
works of poetry and prose distinguished by the intentions of their
authors and the perceived aesthetic excellence of their execution.
(Brittanica) C.Poetry: A form of literary art in which language is
used for its aesthetic and evocative qualities in addition to, or
in lieu of, its apparent meaning. Poetry may be written
independently, as discrete poems, or may occur in conjunction with
other arts, as in poetic drama, hymns or lyrics. (Wikipedia)
Slide 13
It is a kind of literature that calls attention to the process
of how it is made (). It is about the act of making. Poems say what
they say by how they say things. Also the line is very important.
Poetry even when it is prose-poetry is aware of the power of the
line, how it could have once been a breath ie how it connects to
sound, but also how it breaks our vision, creates huge chasms of
suspension, makes us wait. In all cases the poem is deeply
concerned with the sense of sound and visual form. It is the
balance that counts; that balance is what is poetry. (Karen Van
Dyck)
Slide 14
When Oscar Wilde argued that a "poet can survive everything but
a misprint" he had not foreseen the formation of the Queen's
English Society. Members of the group, set up to defend the "beauty
and precision" of the English language, have turned their attention
to contemporary poetry and poets, arguing that too often strings of
words are being labelled as poems despite the fact they have no
rhyme or metre. The campaigners say that there should be a new
definition of poetry, outlining the characteristics needed before a
piece of work can be called a poem. "A lot of people high up in
poetry circles look down on rhyme and metre and think it is
old-fashioned," said Bernard Lamb, president of the QES and an
academic at Imperial College London. "But what is the definition of
poetry? I would say, if it doesn't have rhyme or metre, then it is
not poetry, it is just prose. You can have prose that is full of
imagery, but it is still prose." The campaign is being spearheaded
by Michael George Gibson, who said it was "disgraceful" that the
Poetry Society had failed to respond properly to his demands for a
definition. "For centuries word-things, called poems, have been
made according to primary and defining craft principles of, first,
measure and, second, alliteration and rhyme," said Gibson.
"Word-things not made according to those principles are not poems."
Gibson praised the work of Chaucer, Shakespeare, John Donne, Robert
Graves and even Queen Elizabeth I, all of whom he thought followed
the rules of poetry. But he was critical of current writers,
including Andrew Motion, the Poet Laureate.
Slide 15
Poetry does not need a meaning or definition. Poetry is how the
reader reads it, Poetry is how the poet writes it. Poetry is real,
Poetry is fake, Poetry is everything, Poetry is fate. Poetry is
rhythm. Poetry can rhyme. Poetry is anything, I make it mine.
Slide 16
The reason why the hairs stand on end, the eyes water, the
throat is constricted, the skin crawls and a shiver runs down the
spine when one writes or reads a true poem is that a true poem is
necessarily an invocation of the White Goddess, or Muse, the Mother
of All Living, the ancient power of fright and lustthe female
spider or the queen-bee whose embrace is death. Housman offered a
secondary test of true poetry: whether it matches a phrase of
Keats's, 'everything that reminds me of her goes through me like a
spear'. This is equally pertinent to the Theme.
Slide 17
The Goddess is a lovely, slender woman with a hooked nose,
deathly pale face, lips red as rowan-berries, startlingly blue eyes
and long fair hair; she will suddenly transform herself into sow,
mare, bitch, vixen, she-ass, weasel, serpent, owl, she-wolf,
tigress, mermaid or loathsome hag. Her names and titles are
innumerable. In ghost stories she often figures as 'The White
Lady', and in ancient religions, from the British Isles to the
Caucasus, as the 'White Goddess'. I cannot think of any true poet
from Homer onwards who has not independently recorded his
experience of her. The test of a poet's vision, one might say, is
the accuracy of his portrayal of the White Goddess
Slide 18
The Theme, briefly, is the antique story, which falls into
thirteen chapters and an epilogue, of the birth, life, death and
resurrection of the God of the Waxing Year; the central chapters
concern the God's losing battle with the God of the Waning Year for
love of the capricious and all-powerful Threefold Goddess, their
mother, bride and layer-out. The poet identifies himself with the
God of the Waxing Year and his Muse with the Goddess; the rival is
his blood-brother, his other self, his weird.
Slide 19
So, on the one hand we have Meter, Verse, Sound, Shape(?) On
the other hand we have Music, Religion, Paralogical
Slide 20
In our sleep as we speak Listen to the drums beat As we speak
In our sleep where we meet *** Snow in my shoe Abandoned Sparrows
nest. *** An eye twists weddings. Blue heaven wakes and joy sings.
Good giggly truth plays.
Slide 21
One of these poems is computer generated Which One? Is computer
generated poetry poetry? Is it poetry, is it bad poetry, is it
non-poetry? Which of the following poems do you like better?
Slide 22
Shes crazy like a fool, What about it daddy cool? Im crazy like
a fool. What about it daddy cool? Daddy, daddy cool, Daddy, daddy
cool. Shes crazy about her daddy, Oh she believes in him. She loves
her daddy.
// Sentence Generating Functions // Each function returns a
string containing // a sentence component. //The functions take an
argument, which is the target number of syllables function
Sentence(s) { // = // [ ] var a = new Fragment('',0) var b = new
Fragment('',0) var r var m = 0 while ((a.syl != s) && (m
< maxcount)) { m++ a=SingSent(s) r = s - a.syl if (r > 1) {
a.let=a.let+" " b=RandWord(parent.vocab.con) r=r-b.syl
a=Fragment.add(a,b) a.let=a.let+" " a=Fragment.add(a,SingSent(r)) }
return a
Slide 26
function SingSent(s) { // = // [ ] var a = new Fragment('',0)
var b = new Fragment('',0) var r var m=0 while ((a.syl == 0) ||
((a.syl > s) && (m < maxcount))) { m++ a=SimpSent() r
= s - a.syl if ((r > 2) && (rnd() < lowprob)) {
b=GerundPhrase(r) b.let=b.let+", " a=Fragment.add(b,a) } return a
}
Slide 27
Where is the soul in the machine ?
Slide 28
And the Records Department, after all, was itself only a single
branch of the Ministry of Truth, whose primary job was not to
reconstruct the past but to supply the citizens of Oceania with
newspapers, films, textbooks, telescreen programmes, plays, novels-
-with every conceivable kind of information, instruction, or
entertainment, from a statue to a slogan, from a lyric poem to a
biological treatise, and from a child's spelling-book to a Newspeak
dictionary. And the Ministry had not only to supply the
multifarious needs of the party, but also to repeat the whole
operation at a lower level for the benefit of the proletariat.
There was a whole chain of separate departments dealing with
proletarian literature, music, drama, and entertainment generally.
Here were produced rubbishy newspapers containing almost nothing
except sport, crime and astrology, sensational five-cent
novelettes, films oozing with sex, and sentimental songs which were
composed entirely by mechanical means on a special kind of
kaleidoscope known as a versificator.
Slide 29
Politics?
Slide 30
The workers councils will one day become the essence of all
humanity on earth. As when the power of brightest sunlight is
perceived in a great sheaf of flowers. They are the highest form of
together being, they are the overthrowing of all alone-being. In
them alone each man, woman and gentle child can find the single aim
of ages, humanity's spirit itself. The Workers' Councils, then, are
as the light. They are peace, tranquility and a balm for all, they
are the truth and the fountainhead of truth. They are the
foundation-rock in the great universe of humanity, the nerve-centre
of all labour, they mean joy for humanity - they are the
light.
Slide 31
Several interesting web links 1.My website.
http://users.auth.gr/~kehagiat/http://users.auth.gr/~kehagiat/
2.Poets.org. http://www.poets.org/http://www.poets.org/ 3.Poetry
Magic.
http://www.poetrymagic.co.uk/index.htmlhttp://www.poetrymagic.co.uk/index.html
4.Poetry Resources.
http://www.wisdomportal.com/CPITS/PoetryResources-1.htmlhttp://www.wisdomportal.com/CPITS/PoetryResources-1.html
5.Text Etc.
http://www.wisdomportal.com/CPITS/PoetryResources-1.htmlhttp://www.wisdomportal.com/CPITS/PoetryResources-1.html
6.UbuWeb. http://ubu.com/http://ubu.com/ 7.Haiku in English.
http://raysweb.net/haibun/http://raysweb.net/haibun/ 8.The
Wikipedia.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Main_Pagehttp://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Main_Page
Slide 32
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Slide 34
Frost Analysis 2, Frost uses the following literary devices in
this poem: Irony - in urban setting (were lots of people
live)however the main theme is loneliness, another theme is the
speakers Sadness, however it was written in 1928 (right before the
depression) when there was extreme prosparity and happiness Paradox
- "the time was neither wrong nor right" Symbols night (dark, sad),
rain(sadness, bad times, depression), light(goodness, hope) Syntax
- Frost uses a common syntax (word order) in most of his lines: I
have _(verb) Themes - Loneliness, sadness, guilt Tone - sad,
apathetic Imagery - entire poem sets up a picture in the readers
mind of the city the speaker is in Rhyme - Frost uses the rhyme
scheme "aba bcb cdc dad aa" this scheme is otherwise known as
"terza rima" Form - this poem is a sonnet
Slide 35
Frost Analysis 1, This poem is not literally about leaving and
returning to a city - Frost simply uses it as an allusion to
represent his SOUL. He uses the night to describe his soul; his
lonliness, depression, isolation, etc. There are some Inferno
connections: Frost uses Terza Rima rhyme scheme just like Dante. He
also mentions that he has "outwalked the furthest city light",
meaning he has gone astray which is similar to Dante's first Canto,
talking about leaving the right path. The repetition of the words
"I have" represent the author's flat matter-of-factness (Michael
Meyer - Poetry: An Introduction). There is a somber, sad tone. He
also uses his title, aquainted with the night, to start and end the
poem. When passing the watchman, Frost says he drops his eyes and
is "unwilling to explain". This could represent guilt of doing
something wrong, or it could simply mean he wants to be alone and
ponder about his sadness. We know he is alone because when he
stands still in the next line and "stopped the sound of feet" there
is silence. Then he hears an interrupted cry."but not to call me
back or say goodbye". This shows that there is nobody there for him
and emphasizes his lonliness.