write a 4 page essay on the 2 poems

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In the following page (posted under this one under papers), you see two poems, one written by a former student of an English professor and one written by a former English professor about a student. Both narrators see a little bit of themselves in the person they are writing about.

Your job in this short paper is to give a close reading of both of these poems. You must, however, write ONE unified essay and not two separate parts so you will need to have a unifying thesis statement. You must consider all aspects of the poems and address them fully with specific textual examples. Please make sure you cover the following:

• Voice


Situation and Setting

• Theme

• Tone

• Language Choice

• Imagery

• Figurative Language

• Sound patterns and rhyme

• Internal /External Structure

Your task in this paper is to use the close reading as a way to discover what the narrator thinks about the professor (in the first poem) and the student (in the second poem) and why. You will not find analyses of these poems on line nor are you expected to work together. Please submit on CANVAS.

Poetry Close Reading Paper

In the following page (posted under this one under papers), you see two poems, one written by a former student of an English professor and one written by a former English professor about a student. Both narrators see a little bit of themselves in the person they are writing about.

Your job in this short paper is to give a close reading of both of these poems. You must, however, write ONE unified essay and not two separate parts so you will need to have a unifying thesis statement. You must consider all aspects of the poems and address them fully with specific textual examples. Please make sure you cover the following:

• Voice

• Situation and Setting

• Theme

• Tone

• Language Choice

• Imagery

• Figurative Language

• Sound patterns and rhyme

• Internal /External Structure

Your task in this paper is to use the close reading as a way to discover what the narrator thinks about the professor (in the first poem) and the student (in the second poem) and why. You will not find analyses of these poems on line nor are you expected to work together. Please submit on CANVAS.

Rubric

Poetry Close Reading Paper

Poetry Close Reading Paper

Criteria

Ratings

Pts

1.0 pts

2.0 pts

5.0 pts

2.0 pts

3.0 pts

2.0 pts

Total Points: 15.0

Poem #1

The Kid Poets by Joseph Meredith

Ten years ago I sat cringing in a chair

across from you. Now you call me confrere.

You were fifty then. I was just a kid

who’d given you some poems. The thunder in the air

was partly your old railroad watch hid

in a storm of papers on your desk. I’d have fled

into the drizzling afternoon, given half a chance,

to calm my thundering heart. But then you did

the kindest thing: your hand danced a little dance

finding a rhythm you said was more than happenstance

in one of my “things.” In the air between your face

and my face, the thunder died. Only a quick glance

out the window convinced me you could not chase

the storm away, could not, by gesture, replace

cloud with sun, only turn a life around.

And all by a movement of pure masculine grace.

Now you are sixty; each rumble of the watch is more profound.

And my paternal stoop will in time pull me to the ground.

But still they come to you daily, the kid poets,

waiting outside your office, tight-lipped, without a sound.

Poem#2

Poem for Christian, My Student By Gail Mazur

He reminds me of someone I used to know,

but who? Before class,

he comes to my office to shmooze,

a thousand thousand pointless interesting

speculations. Irrepressible boy,

his assignments are rarely completed,

or actually started. This week, instead

of research in the stacks, he’s performing

with a reggae band that didn’t exist last week.

Kids danced to his music

and stripped, he tells me gleefully,

high spirit of the street festival.

He’s the singer, of course—

why ask if he studied an instrument?

On the brink of graduating with

an engineering degree (not, it turned out,

his forte), he switched to English,

his second language. It’s hard to swallow

the bravura of his academic escapes

or tell if the dark eyes laugh with his face.

Once, he brought me a tiny persimmon

he’d picked on campus; once, a poem

about an elderly friend in New Delhi

who left him volumes of Tagore

and memories of avuncular conversation.

My encouragement makes him skittish—

it doesn’t suit his jubilant histrionics

of despair. And I remember myself

shrinking from enthusiasm or praise,

the prospect of effort-drudgery.

Success—a threat. A future, we figure,

of revision—yet what can the future be

but revision and repair? Now, on the brink

again, graduation’s postponed, the brilliant

thesis on Walker Percy unwritten.

“I’ll drive to New Orleans and soak

it up and write my paper in a weekend,”

he announces in the Honors office.

And, “I want to be a bum in daytime

and a reggae star at night!”

What could I give him from my life

or art that matters, how share

the desperate slumber of my early years,

the flashes of inspiration and passion

in a life on hold? If I didn’t fool

myself or anyone, no one could touch

me, or tell me much . . . This gloomy

Houston Monday, he appears at my door,

so sunny I wouldn’t dare to wake him

now, or say it matters if he wakes at all.

“Write a poem about me!” he commands,

and so I do.

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