Oct 1-3

Zeb:

this week you must produce a poem on growing up.
Two stanzas of
four verses of
ten syllables each, that
rhyme A-B-A-B
just like the other poems.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Each day
Read one chapter part in the Science book and do the questions. Send the questions and answers in an email.
Do two pages in the math practice book.
Read chapter 8 in From Slavery to Freedom
Read 3 articles from the Science Daily website



On monday:
perform this experiment


On tuesday: open a new gmail account or else use the old one. email me at 9:00 am so we can set up a chat about the work.

Week of Sept 17 18 19

SEPT 17

Math:
New Math Practice Book (Purple Book)(Eighth grade) Review

Transitions Math Book Lesson 3-5 converting between Systems answer the questions and email me.


Science:
Science textbook Chapter 4.1 to page 77. Do the questions and email me.

American History
From Slavery to Freedom: Chapter 1 & 2. Read.
Answer the following questions. Copy and email to me.

1. How was African social life organized?
2. What were the major kingdoms of West Africa.
3. What foods did Africans eat?

English
Poetry Unit
This week's assignment, due thursday morning:

write a poem of eight lines about the subject of Growing Up. Each like must have eight-ten syllables and the poem must have two stanzas of four lines each, rhyming ABAB.

blah blah blah A
Blah blah blah B
Blah blah blah A
blah blah blah B

blah blah blah A
Blah blah blah B
Blah blah blah A
blah blah blah B

So the last words in each line rhyme -- alternating. Like this:

Zeb looks like a big banana
He has a sheep for lunch
He lives in the town of Havana
and eats roses by the bunch

Read the following Poem:
Crossing the Bar.

1. Look up the meanings of bar and pilot.
2. What does Tennyson mean when he says he will "cross the bar"
3. Who is the Pilot?

Reading: Podkayne of Mars

++++++++++++++++++++++++++


SEPT 18

Math:
New Math Practice Book (Purple Book)(Eighth grade) Review sections I have marked.

Transitions Math Book Lesson 3-6 Measuring Angles. Answer the questions and email me.


Science:
Science textbook Chapter 4.2. Make the table in question four and email it to me as an attached Word file.

American History
Our unit is on the history of blacks in the US and their journey from slavery to freedom.
From Slavery to Freedom: Chapter 3 to page 49. Read.
On tuesday, when you are done reading, email me and we will set up a chat time in the morning to discuss the chapter. Make sure the book is in front of you.

English
Poetry Unit
Remember this week's assignment, due thursday morning:

write a poem of eight lines about the subject of Growing Up. Each like must have eight-ten syllables and the poem must have two stanzas of four lines each, rhyming ABAB.

Read the following Poem and answer the questions. Email me.
Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening

After you have read the poem OUT LOUD. SLOWLY. Answer the questions:

1. Why do you think the poet stopped in the woods? What is he thinking about doing to himself?
2. What does "sleep" mean here?
3. Look at the imagery here. Is it day or night? How are the woods described, with what adjectives? How do you feel after reading the poem?

Email me and we can chat.

Reading: Podkayne of Mars or The Last Battle or Band of Brothers

++++++++++++++++++

SEPT 19

Math:
New Math Practice Book (Purple Book)(Eighth grade) Review sections I have marked.

Transitions Math Book Lesson 3-7 Kinds of Angles. Answer the even numbered questions and email me. Work with mom!


Science:
Read 4.3. Do not answer the questions.

American History
Our unit is on the history of blacks in the US and their journey from slavery to freedom.
From Slavery to Freedom: Chapter 4. Read. (there is no need to finish chapter 3 but you can finish it if you like)
On wednesday, when you are done reading, email me and we will set up a chat time in the morning to discuss the chapter. Make sure the book is in front of you.

English
Poetry Unit
Remember this week's assignment, due thursday morning:
write a poem of eight lines about the subject of Growing Up. Each like must have eight-ten syllables and the poem must have two stanzas of four lines each, rhyming ABAB.

For poetry today, you must do two things: view a painting, and read a poem.

Here is a link to one of the most famous paintings of all time, Icarus Drowning, by P. Breugel.

http://www.artchive.com/artchive/B/bruegel/icarus.jpg.html

Look at the painting. You can click on the painting, wait a moment, and a big picture will appear. Find Icarus in the corner, his legs sticking out of the water. You will probably need to read this story of the ancient greek myth of Icarus.

The poem is Landscape With Icarus Drowning by William Carlos Williams

According to Brueghel
when Icarus fell
it was spring

a farmer was ploughing
his field
the whole pageantry

of the year was
awake tingling
near

the edge of the sea
concerned
with itself

sweating in the sun
that melted
the wings' wax

unsignificantly
off the coast
there was

a splash quite unnoticed
this was
Icarus drowning


Email me when you have read this and we can set up a chat. Also, remember to read the poem out loud to mom.


Reading: Podkayne of Mars or The Last Battle or Band of Brothers

Sept 11

I'm nobody! Who are you?
Are you nobody, too?
Then there's a pair of us - don't tell!
They'd banish us, you know!

How dreary to be somebody!
How public like a frog
To tell one's name the livelong day
To an admiring bog!

Write 5 similes for things you see outside your door!

Sept 5

Rebecca Who Slammed Doors For Fun And Perished-Miserably
Hilaire Belloc

A trick that everyone abhors
In little girls is slamming doors.
A wealthy banker's little daughter
Who lived in Palace Green, Bayswater
(By name Rebecca Offendort),
Was given to this furious sport.

She would deliberately go
And slam the door like billy-o!
To make her Uncle Jacob start.
She was not really bad at heart,
But only rather rude and wild;
She was an aggravating child…

It happened that a marble bust
Of Abraham was standing just
Above the door this little lamb
Had carefully prepared to slam,
And down it came! It knocked her flat!
It laid her out! She looked like that.

Her funeral sermon (which was long
And followed by a sacred song)
Mentioned her virtues, it is true,
But dwelt upon her vices too,
And showed the deadful end of one
Who goes and slams the door for fun.

The children who were brought to hear
The awful tale from far and near
Were much impressed, and inly swore
They never more would slam the door,
— As often they had done before.

+++++++++++

Cleaning the Well
Paul Ruffin

Each spring there was the well to be cleaned.
On a day my grandfather would say,
"It's got to be done. Let's go.” This time
I dropped bat and glove, submitted to the rope,
and he lowered me into the dark and cold
water of the well. The sun
slid off at a crazy cant and I
was there, thirty feet down, waist deep
in icy water, grappling for whatever
was not pure and wet and cold.
The sky hovered like some pale moon
above, eclipsed by his heavy red face
bellowing down to me not to dally,
to feel deep and load the bucket.
My feet rasped against cold stone,
toes selecting unnatural shapes, curling
and gripping, raising them to my fingers,
then into the bucket and up to him:
a rubber ball, pine cones, leather glove,
beer can, fruit jars, an indefinable bone.
It was a time of fears: suppose he
should die or forget me, the rope break,
the water rise, a snake strike, the
bottom give way, the slick sides crumble?

The last bucket filled, my grandfather
assured, the rope loop dropped to me
and I was delivered by him who
sent me down, drawn slowly to sun
and sky and his fiercely grinning face.

"There was something else down there:
a cat or possum skeleton, but it
broke up, I couldn't pick it up.”
He dropped his yellow hand on my head.
"There's always something down there
you can't quite get in your hands.
You'd know that if it wasn't your first
trip down. You'll know from now on.”

But what about the water?
Can we keep on drinking it?”

"You've drunk all that cat
you're likely to drink. Forget it
and don't tell the others. It's just
one more secret you got to live with."
++++++++++++

QUESTIONS:

1. How are these two poems different? Describe three ways.

2. Which one do you feel has more depth, more emotional power?

3. What does it mean, "cleaning the well?" What could the well stand for?

4. What is the cat?

Sept 4 2007 poem

I would rather be a dog because,
Dogs are very nice.
Everyone would play with us,
But we may have lice.

SLT, 9407

Poem unit, Sept 4, 2007

Keep A Poem In Your Pocket
By Beatrice Schenk de Regniers


Keep a poem in your pocket
And a picture in your head
And you’ll never feel lonely
At night when you’re in bed.

The little poem will sing to you
The little picture bring to you
A dozen dreams to dance to you
At night when you’re in bed.

So - -
Keep a picture in your pocket
And a poem in your head
And you’ll never feel lonely
At night when you’re in bed.

RECITE THIS POEM:

Quinquireme of Nineveh from distant Ophir,
Rowing home to haven in sunny Palestine,
With a cargo of ivory,
And apes and peacocks,
Sandalwood, cedarwood, and sweet white wine.

Stately Spanish galleon coming from the Isthmus,
Dipping through the Tropics by the palm-green shores,
With a cargo of diamonds,
Emeralds, amethysts,
Topazes, and cinnamon, and gold moidores.

Dirty British coaster with a salt-caked smoke stack,
Butting through the Channel in the mad March days,
With a cargo of Tyne coal,
Road-rails, pig-lead,
Firewood, iron-ware, and cheap tin trays.


AND THIS ONE:


The white and scarlet ferry boats
Come creaming down the bay,
And rub their painted shoulders
With the tramp from Mandalay,
And the liner bound for 'Frisco,
And the gay-flagged Betsy B.,
And the tub from Porto Rico,
And the barque from Barbary …

My heart puts out to sea …

There are apples in my cargo,
And te holds are flowing full
Of frozen meat, and yellow wheat
And piling bales of wool.
I'll bring back fretted ivory,
And laces sheer and fine,
And figs and dates and muscatels
From teeming Palestine
And pearly rice
And fragrant spice
And casks of amber wine.


AND EMILY DICKINSON

I like to see it lap the miles,
And lick the valleys up,
And stop to feed itself at tanks;
And then, prodigious, step

Around a pile of mountains,
And, supercilious, peer
In shanties by the sides of roads;
And then a quarry pare

To fit its sides, and crawl between,
Complaining all the while
In horrid, hooting stanza;
Then chase itself down hill

And neigh like Boanerges;
Then, punctual as a star,
Stop - docile and omnipotent
At its own stable door.



Look up these two poetic concepts:
SIMILE
METAPHOR