Interviewer:
He is a fascinating poet but also a children’s book writer. One of his most famous poems are “Half-caste” and “listen Mr Oxford Don”. John Agard was born in British Guiana 1949. When he was growing up, he enjoyed listening to cricket commentary on the radio, and at some point he started making up his own. By making up cricket commentaries, he discovered a passion to language. In his final years of school, he studied English, French and Latin, and that was when he also began writing his first poetry. In 1977, he moved to Great Britain, where he worked for BBC. In 2012, he was selected for the Queen’s Gold Medal for Poetry. Today he came for a visit and tell us what is on his mind right now.
As I have mentioned to the audience that you are a poet, could you tell us how do you go about writing your poetry?
John Agard: When anything can start you off, you get that nibbling feeling. It may be words; it could be a memory, a funny headline. As long as it touches you, and you feel an emotional engagement in this subject or this remark. Even a strong word can trigger you. One of the words that gave me the nibbling feeling was half-caste. It means a person of mixed race. When I hear this word, that trigger turns on, and that 's why I started writing a poem about it. As I
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One of my intents was to show that there is no need of changing yourself if you live in a foreign country. You should keep your personal identity. In order to achieve that, I wrote a poem with phonetic spelling. The phonetic spelling shows the pronunciation of words in my dialect.By not using the correct spelling of the word and not using standard english the poem appears to be sloppy. In addition, no rhyme was used, so it can be understood easily that it was written from the point of view of a person who is mixed
Beverly Jimenez, also known as, ‘Dr.Sissy’, stretches out of her petite, cozy office and steps into the ample operatory with dark orange walls and sticky purple chairs. Sounds of suction and the metal clanking of tools can be heard. She is asked to take a look at her patient's teeth whenever she is ready. She takes a seat on the low stool and opens her metal tools from their blue transparent package. She begins to examine the teeth of a young girl.
Man this stuff is good are you ready to snort the next round, sure. Bang bang bang . Open the door it is time to eat.
raHe searched everywhere for those shoes, those perfect tan ones with that fabric flower that fit him just right. The closet, underneath his bed, in the pile of clean clothes he meant to fold a week ago. They were nowhere to be found, completely gone from the face of the Earth, leaving Cal Hampton barefooted and discouraged. It was only eight in the morning and his room was more of a mess than it usually was, plus, worst of all, he didn 't have a single pair of shoes that matched the floral skirt settled upon his waist. He bought it just for that damn pair, those adorable, dainty tan shoes, and now, the thing was useless.
The year is 1861. You are a young boy only 10 years of age,named Tommy, your parents both died from smallpox. Every day it goes threw your head why did I not get the virus and die with them? and now you face a new challenge, living on you own or going to a workhouse and work day in and day out and for what?
Future me I truly hope you come to find this before they do….. This is our “note to self” Our name is Winston Smith. As I write this we are in profound unfathomable deep trouble.
The room is spinning. It’s hard to get a good look and what or even where the scene is taking place. Finally, the revolution ends on a face. Not a remarkable face. Just an average looking guy in his early twenties with a short brown fair and sad eyes.
POV: SteveI never seen Sodapop look so...gloomy. He was always the happier one of the bunch, but ever since our gang has fallen...with deaths. First it was Johnny and Dally, then Darry and Ponyboy. His own brothers. Two-Bit was off somewhere with his children.
“I learned a lot about Bec *fake Bradley’s sister*. When I recognized her outside of prom night, she looked like a whole different person! Clarie only knew her because she thought she hung out with the *stoners*. If I think about it, that is actually rude, I can’t explain it, but it just seems rude. Is the only reason she’s mean to me because I’m selfish, and never really paid any attention to her, nor her boyfriend, ‘Nate’?
For a brief moment, miles away from the eyes of god, time itself stood still. And the singing birds went silent in their canopies, and the gentle licks of a passing breeze abated, as if the entire world, save Gatsby, knew. Knew that, like an old timepiece, the gears within the depths of George Wilson’s being had long since begun to fragment, and with the urgency of newfound knowledge, he had only one thought on his mind. Certainly, as he glided towards Gatsby’s mansion—and ultimately, into the foliage that surrounded it— Wilson’s breathing was neither slow nor rapid, nor shallow nor heavy, but rather, it fluctuated with an unrelenting attitude, and trapped between immense grief and rage, he carried himself dangerously with each step.
Hi I’m Vance Monroe. My buddies call me Keys. Currently I’m running through the streets of downtown london getting chased by the police and the man who’s watch and keys I stole today. People might be wondering why a young boy like me at the age of ten is running the streets of 1861 London pickpocketing. Well then I would have to take them back to that day I was informed with an unfortunate event.
This proves that Jack is confident about poetry because he is being inspired by other poetics and he is now starting to write his own poems. Throughout the book, Jack’s thoughts about poetry have grow from timid, then he changed to reluctant and enthusiastic, and now he is confident about poetry because he is now starting to enjoy poetry more and write his own
Sometimes I feel like Bilbo Baggins. I’m awfully short (5’1” thank you very much), drawn towards shiny objects, and love a good adventure. The biggest difference between Bilbo and I is that we come from different worlds. Oh, and I’m not a hobbit. But even though my world may not have warlocks or dragons or dwarves, it is pretty amazing.
his comeback, I was dispatched to George Cherry’s boxing club to watch him work out. After he had finished and showered, we adjourned to a neighbourhood greasy spoon for an amiable, two-hour chat. As we were about to leave, Lafleur asked about an old friend: “So how is Red Fisher?” “Red is Red,” I said, the only accurate description of the man I could ever manage.
INTRO I have done it. I have brought upon the death of another man! I have blood upon my hands. For that I feel I should have changed but desperation has replaced the sorrow I feel for my actions.
Poetry is a piece of literature where the author shares his ideas of a subject or person. He is attempting to allow the reader an understanding of his feelings regarding this subject. Most of the time poetry can be very pleasing to the ear; however, at times it can be written in a manner that is odd. Some poetry is written in a way that the reader can “hear”, “feel”, “see” or “taste” elements in the poem. Some poems may rhyme while others may not need to in order to convey the message.