TESL classes are not for pansies

That's my personal slogan for summer semester. Not just anyone can take it. And so, in my proud little mind, I view these as serious accomplishments. Either I will succeed and go far with this new knowledge, or I shall fail miserably and die. End results are yet to be determined. :)

Today, we actually wrote a whole bunch of poems in class. But these are grammar poems--and grammar is our focus this week. Each poem has regulations that are to be followed, but help to exemplify certain aspects of grammar. This way, we can use poetry writing in class for a creative way to teach grammar.

And since this is MY blog, and I get to say whatever I want in it, I'm including the poems here. So ha! I'm sticking it to whoever at this point. I need to get that chip off my shoulder...


Rule Poem:
line 1: color
line 2: number
line 3: foreign word
line 4: comparison
line 5: animal

Silver and gold stars
Poured from five pitchers.
La nuit.
Brighter than Psyche's eyes
And more delicate than a butterfly.

Preposition Poem:
every line starts with a preposition

In the clear, hot skies, the thunderclouds loom.
Over the parched prairie, they taunt the drought.
Along the planted furrows, dust blows
Across the settlers' feet. Will it rain?

Repetition Poem:
pick a line or phrase to repeat

Still as statues,
We stand in the cold.
Our breath is smoky clouds,
Our noses and fingers are frozen stiff
And still as statues.
You don't have to say anything.
My eyes are echoing back the unsaid.
Although we are unmoving,
There is a smile hanging between us.
Then the snow comes,
Whirling softly, dusting hair
And eyelashes,
Unblinking and still as statues.
Then you grin
And I laugh.
We run back to the house,
Giggling and falling through the drifts
That, were it not for our mischief,
Would be still as statues.

Negation Poem:
begin with a positive phrase; consequent lines negate

My "lucky" bamboo...
It's not lucky because I keep knocking it over
It's not in the forest because it's on my desk
It's not straight since it's twisted
It's not growing because, well, I don't know why
It's nothing special, but it's mine.


Lovely, blue Lake Washington
It's not crystal clear
It's not clean
It's not warm and inviting
It's not void of plants and animals
It's not much of anything unless you're a bottom-feeding fish.

Sense Poem:
stative verbs (feel/touch, taste, see, hear, smell)

The Beachhouse
In the morning, I swing my feet over the bed.
Under my feet, I feel the alternately cool and warm floorboards
As I walk through patches of window-light.
Outside, I see the waves coming in and out.
I hear the seagulls crying to the ocean,
Mourning the passing of time.
I can smell fresh brewed coffee in the kitchen.
Then, with warm mug in hand,
I stand on the deck, tasting java and sunshine.

The Hammock
I'm swinging back and forth
I feel a breeze blowing over my face.
I see the tree branches overhead,
Rushing by, then a brief pause,
Then more rushing in the midst of the swing.
I can smell charcoal grills
And remnants of powder from fireworks.
I hear laughing and the chatter of birds.
I taste watermelon on my lips.
It's the 4th of July.

Wow, that was a lot of poetry for one day. And there will probably be additions to this in the afternoon. Oy vey...

But now I have grammar exercises and lunch to do. So I'm heading off.