Our creative juices were flowing this week as the work got underway.

by Edward Sanders

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…They came to Antwerp and then to London

and then to Ludlow Street

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to make a New World

inside the New World

at century’s turn—

The Yiddish-speaking socialists

of the Lower East Side

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Some remembered

with pangs and tears

the beautiful rural life

wrested away…

Irving Berlin’s Lower East Side. Photograph. munnlodge.org/cms/sites/default/files/BerlinsLES-Songbook.jpg. Web.

I SPOT the hills
With yellow balls in autumn.
I light the prairie cornfields
Orange and tawny gold clusters
And I am called pumpkins.
On the last of October
When dusk is fallen
Children join hands
And circle round me
Singing ghost songs
And love to the harvest moon;
I am a jack-o’-lantern
With terrible teeth
And the children know
I am fooling.

Carl Sandburg. Photograph. www.encyclopedia.com/topic/Carl_Sandburg.aspx. Web.

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Poetry To Me (An Acrostic)

Poems spark up the dark

Of the night

Evening is the most pleasant time of the day

Trees shaking, the best time to think up a new poem

Rigorous raccoons and cloudy stormy skies

Year-long skies come around changing different colors,

Trying sometimes to have the sun push out but mostly just the moon

Obeying whatever they want, the daylight or night,to be like

My poetry book coming alive whatever I write

Even when I don’t want to write you can’t get away from who I am

-Sara

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Poetry is?

poetry is

funny

or pleasing

or amazing

or beautiful

or clever

or great

or kind

or the worst thing possible

or terrible

or atrocious

or hideous

or dumb

or evil

all of these things

or it is just plain stupid

-Josh

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Poetry

Poetry is a storm of letters and words

over the headline is a pasture

everything when you look back blurs

things very strange occur

red flowers flock the paper

yes everything is TRUE in this pasture

–Damon

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(An Acrostic)

What is poetry to me well  poetry

Has rhyme some poets use

Alliteration and metaphors

They have long and short lines some full of punctuation some not

It’s like a song with a

Story and sometimes music

Poetry can be in different forms

Oh maybe a haiku or sonnet

Every poem is different no

Two are alike they could have a beat or

Rhythm

You can write about anything in a poem

-Donia

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(An Acrostic)

Ms. Noble

Ms. Noble is the best

She can’t be beaten,

No teacher can live up to her,

Only single teacher I have had!

But very intelligent,

Life is amazing with such a teacher,

Every single thing is perfect,

–Damon

What are Poems?

Poems are like magic

Poems are lots of words

Even though I can be in a brawl in the mall

I’m here writing a poem not having a ball

Words are a wonderful powerful thing

A poem is a lot of super cool jumble of words

Thats what poems are

- Garrett

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poetry is okay

poetry is okay

it’s sometimes awful

sometimes funny

or gross

it can be fun

or boring

or dumb

or amazing

or the worst thing that ever happened to you

or just ugly

or stupid

or lame

or about a lame guy

or ridiculous

or smart

or disgusting

or the best thing in the world

you want to marry it

or kill it

or it’s evil

or awesome

or just one line

some are great

or hilarious

poetry is okay

- Ryan

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The Man with A Cat On His Head

I saw a man with a cat on his head.

And he was feeding it some French bread.

My dad took a picture with his phone.

So this man would always be known.

Then we had to keep walking,

But about this man we will always be talking.

-Lila

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(An Acrostic)

Hurricanes are storms that creep

Up on land and

Reach out to destroy property, southern storms often

Romp over land for a long time

It moves faster up north than down south

Called by names from

A to Z in alphabetical order if they don’t get to a

Name they start at A again as the

Eye settles over land, as the day ends, the

Sun sets in the west

–Jack

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What Do I Think of Poetry?

When I think of poetry,

I think of action and people

and places and miracles and experiences

stuck on one lined piece of paper.

Sometimes I go crazy trying to think of new ideas,

and interesting, or different words

to put on that

one piece of lined  paper.

But then I tell myself poetry can be anything,

anything that I can think of. Poetry can be anything I want. Nothing is right

or wrong

IT’S POETRY!

-Lucy

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HOW POEMS FIND ME!

I am sitting on a bench

and I hear some thing calling my name

it is saying, “Julian Julian”

I follow the voice but I don’t see it

I am scared

I run back but it is too fast

I run and I run but it catches  me

I am trapped when it catches me

it will put a baseball cap on me

I am tired, thirsty and hungry

it takes me back to its house and gives me food and a drink then it shows me who it is it is a

POEM!

– Julian

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POETRY (An Acrostic)

Poetry is words coming together to make sentences.

Only you can write what you think.

Every poem is different.

Try to write a poem.

Rhyme, alliteration, similes and much more

You can write a poem too.

It could be a lot of fun.

Some poems are easier to write than others.

- Hannah

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Keep On Going

a poem is born like a baby

poems have birthdays just like humans but poems don’t die

poems sail back and forth like a boat

somebody writes a poem  like a boat but

poems don’t sink

poems are smart  like children in school

poems can think but poems don’t take a break during the summer

poems don’t stop never never

they keep on going forever

-Gaby

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Poetry is its Own World

Poetry is it’s own world

that’s magical

that’s amazing

that’s eldritch

that’s bonzer

that’s fantastic

that’s extraordinary

that’s grand

that’s radiant

that’s brobdingnagian

that’s diminutive

that’s chilling

that’s different because you’re not in it

it’s in you

–Brendan

Halloween Fears

There’s only one night in a year, when all the spirits are here,

When the witch takes flight on her broom, and you are frightened by a goblins BOO!

When the skeletons shake, you turn ghostly opaque,

glowing  jack ‘o lanterns, and bloody phantoms,

They all make you shriek, they give a strong reek,

but however much fright, you survive through the night,

and tomorrow the spookiness will die.

–Ella Olivia

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I saw a cloud that looked like a meatball!

I saw a cloud that looked like a meatball!

The meatball had arms and a mustache.

It was fat like a hippo

with a mouth and a nose and two eyes too.

Split in the middle

I didn’t know why

It looked strange

and then I knew, there wasn’t one meatball, but two!

-Jesse

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(An Acrostic)

Many things are cool about her,

She has the best schedule ever.

Nothing is bad about the class,

Oh yes, all of this is true.

Big Dalton suits her a lot,

Long days are awesome because,

Everything is amazing because of

Ms. Noble!

-Aidan

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How Poetry Gets Me (inspired by “How Poetry Comes to Me” by Gary Snyder)

It comes creeping toward me, not making a sound

Hunting me down like some kind of hound

Comes like a ghost and taps my shoulder

I turn around and chuck a small boulder

He introduces himself and says, ”hi”

I let out a really big sigh

He says he is something you will not believe

He says he is POETRY!

-Max

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Halloween is a spooooooky night (An Acrostic)

A pumpkin is shining in the light

Low stay low when the ghost comes out

Lay on the floor when the ghost comes out

Ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

We go to each house and say trick or treat

Echos fill the night

Each of us is in fright

Now shhhhhhhhhhhhh on Halloween night

–Alexandra

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Poetry is Emotion

poetry loves me

it sings

and dances

and prances

in my head

it twirls and whirls together

when it comes i say yay!

when it leaves is say aww         !

i love when it says great poem! great poem!

we think together

we laugh together

we all do everything together

–Alexandra

Note: The blog has altered the format of some of the poems.

In addition, the students of Noble House recently began to write their own poetry.  Many focused on the question, “What is Poetry” but others wrote about such varied topics as Halloween and hurricanes!  Stay tuned for their published pieces.

Will you walk into my parlour?” said the Spider to the Fly,
‘Tis the prettiest little parlour that ever you did spy;
The way into my parlour is up a winding stair,
And I’ve a many curious things to show when you are there.”
Oh no, no,” said the little Fly, “to ask me is in vain,
For who goes up your winding stair can ne’er come down again.”

“I’m sure you must be weary, dear, with soaring up so high;
Will you rest upon my little bed?” said the Spider to the Fly.
“There are pretty curtains drawn around; the sheets are fine and thin,
And if you like to rest awhile, I’ll snugly tuck you in!”
Oh no, no,” said the little Fly, “for I’ve often heard it said,
They never, never wake again, who sleep upon your bed!”

Said the cunning Spider to the Fly, ” Dear friend what can I do,
To prove the warm affection I ‘ve always felt for you?
I have within my pantry, good store of all that’s nice;
I’m sure you’re very welcome — will you please to take a slice?”
“Oh no, no,” said the little Fly, “kind Sir, that cannot be,
I’ve heard what’s in your pantry, and I do not wish to see!”

“Sweet creature!” said the Spider, “you’re witty and you’re wise,
How handsome are your gauzy wings, how brilliant are your eyes!
I’ve a little looking-glass upon my parlour shelf,
If you’ll step in one moment, dear, you shall behold yourself.”
“I thank you, gentle sir,” she said, “for what you ‘re pleased to say,
And bidding you good morning now, I’ll call another day.”

The Spider turned him round about, and went into his den,
For well he knew the silly Fly would soon come back again:
So he wove a subtle web, in a little corner sly,
And set his table ready, to dine upon the Fly.
Then he came out to his door again, and merrily did sing,
“Come hither, hither, pretty Fly, with the pearl and silver wing;
Your robes are green and purple — there’s a crest upon your head;
Your eyes are like the diamond bright, but mine are dull as lead!”

Alas, alas! how very soon this silly little Fly,
Hearing his wily, flattering words, came slowly flitting by;
With buzzing wings she hung aloft, then near and nearer drew,
Thinking only of her brilliant eyes, and green and purple hue –
Thinking only of her crested head — poor foolish thing! At last,
Up jumped the cunning Spider, and fiercely held her fast.
He dragged her up his winding stair, into his dismal den,
Within his little parlour — but she ne’er came out again!

And now dear little children, who may this story read,
To idle, silly flattering words, I pray you ne’er give heed:
Unto an evil counselor, close heart and ear and eye,
And take a lesson from this tale, of the Spider and the Fly

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Mary Howitt. Photograph. https:/…/html/1807/4350/howittm.gif. Web.

In addition, the students of Noble House recently began sharing their annotations of Charlotte’s Web with each other.  Presentations continue this week and at the end, each student will possess their own annotated copy of E. B. White’s beloved story.

It comes blundering over the
Boulders at night, it stays
Frightened outside the
Range of my campfire
I go to meet it at the
Edge of the light

Gary Snyder. Photograph. english.illinois.edu/…/snyder/snyder.htm. Web.

The students of Noble House have been busily preparing for their Oral History interviews. First, they read author blurbs about E. B. White and were later paired together in order to practice the interview process as well as get to know another class member. Their interesting interviews are on display in the window of the classroom. Next, we brainstormed a list of interview questions and organized them into an outline of four categories: I. Old Country, II. Journey, III. Arrival and IV. New Country. At the same time, students were thinking about a possible immigrant of their acquaintance to interview. After that, the class viewed a short film about the entire process of the Oral History Project, created by our own Mr. Andre and Ms. Gordon. Ms. Noble and Mr. Andre modeled how to ask follow up questions in case answers are brief. We all had a good laugh when Mr. Andre refused to give more than one word answers. Finally, students were given various forms to have their interviewee fill out and a clear plastic folder in which to put it all. They are all ready to become historians themselves!

In conjunction with the Oral History project, Noble House has been learning how to do a “close reading” of Charlotte’s Web. Ms. Noble and Ms. Stokien modeled annotating chapter 1. We found themes such as life and death, change and friendship. Who knew that so much information is just below the surface of page one alone! Afterwards, students selected their own chapters to annotate and will be presenting their findings to the class during the next two weeks.