Lesson Plan

Sonya Bishop-Makhulu

EDU 530-01

Jeff Gundy

 

                                               Sounds of Poetry: Onomatopoeia

 

 

Objective: Students will be able to come to an understanding of what the concept of onomatopoeia is, through using words that sound like what they describe in their poetry.  They will demonstrate an understanding verbally and in written form.

 

 

Task Content Area: Language Arts/ 5th Grade

 

 

Time Needed: One class period

 

 

Materials:

-Scraps of paper with actions written on them

-Pencils

-Notebook paper

-Chalkboard, Etc.

-Container to put slips of paper in

-Glass

-Pitcher of Water

 

 

Advance Preparation: The teacher will need to prepare slips of paper ahead of time, which have predetermined “actions” written on them.  For example, one slip might read, bacon frying, or another might read fingernails scratching on a blackboard, etc…The teacher should prepare enough of the torn slips to allow each student to draw one out of a container.  A glass and pitcher of water should be at hand for the teacher to use as a demonstration tool.

 

 

Procedure: The students should be sitting in a large circle formation, before beginning this lesson.  The teacher will then go to a door in the classroom, and slam it shut.  This will probably startle the class, and provide a good example to begin to discuss the idea of onomatopoeia.  Then the teacher should say something like, “ What sound did you just hear when I shut the door?” This should prompt someone to answer, “Slam!”  The teacher should then go on to explain that words like slam, sound like what they describe, and these words are examples of onomatopoeia.  Next, the teacher should write six words on the board which are examples of onomatopoeia. For example, click, swish, boom, hiss, tick-tock, buzz, etc…  Students should then get out a piece of paper and number it from one to six.  They need to list the name of the object which would produce the sounds which are listed on the board.  They should be given a bit of time to do this, and then the teacher should ask for student’s answers. 

 

To begin the next part of the lesson, the teacher should take a pitcher of water, and pour some of it into a glass in front of the class.  Before doing this, he/she should emphasize that each student needs to close his/her eyes, and listen carefully to the sound of the water being poured into the glass.  The teacher should pour at least two glasses, so students are given the chance to determine what sound is being made by this action.  Students should then be asked what sound emerges when water is being poured into a glass.  Various answers will be given, such as trickle, blop, etc… They may find it hard to describe the sound of water, but that is okay.  After this, the teacher will go around the room, having each student draw out a slip of paper from a container.  Each student will then read, one at a time, what is on their slip of paper.  (Ex.  a mouth chewing)  The teacher would then ask that student what sound that action would make.  The student would most likely reply, “crunch.” or “chomp.”  This pattern would then  continue until each student had assigned a sound to the action provided on the slip of paper.

 

Following on into the poetry part of this lesson, each student would need to get out a sheet of blank paper, and then choose five onomatopoeia words which they could use in their poetry.  Have them write those five words at the top of their papers, and beside each word they will write what it is that produces that particular sound.  They can use any of the words that they heard their peers use, or any that were on the board.  The teacher needs to walk around during this time to monitor student understanding. 

 

The teacher should then put an example on the board, and talk about it with the class.

                 whoosh-wind    clip-clop-horses hooves       crash-car        hiss-snake

                   squeak-mouse

                

                                   Hear the mouse squeaking with delight

                                   The snake hisses in the dreary night

                                   Until the wind ceases its angry, whoosh

                                       Etc…..

 

Tell the students that they must use their five words in their poetry, but they can also add more if they want.  The only rule is that they use those five words, and the rest is up to their imagination.  Obviously, this lesson would follow previous lessons which would have already addressed how to go about writing poetry.  Students should then be encouraged to share their poetry, during another class period.  They should be allowed to take it home and work on it before presenting it. 

 

 

Grading:  The point of this lesson is to determine whether a concept has been understood, and so grades need not be assigned.  This could simply be part of a student’s portfolio, and credit could be given for completing the poem. 

 

 

 

EDU 530-01

Jeff Gundy

Poetry

Sonya Bishop-Makhulu

                                                 Embellishments

 

 

                                     Where is your beauty?

                                      Inside a bottle with a styrofoam cork

                                     Haphazardly placed in containers on the bathroom sink

                                     In a closet full of cotton, lycra, and viscose

                                     Where ten year old moth balls finally create a stench

                                     In the voice of an alto accompanied by a Celtic harp

                                     Or in words which don’t plagiarize

                                   

                                     It might flow in watercolors upon a cardboard canvas

                                     In double prints of camera shots from sometime ago

                                     Beyond the kitchen gadgets and family ties

                                     In old world cathedrals full of incense

                                    

                                                 Whatever it is, let it be your art

                                                 Let it reveal who you are

                                                 Who you want to be

                                                 So, where is your beauty?

                                                 Remembering always, your art

 

EDU 530-01

Jeff Gundy

Poetry

Sonya Bishop-Makhulu

                                              Poison Cocktails

 

 

 

                       In that clinically, stark, white, disinfected room

                      A blood specialist, results in hand

                      No sugar coated words, or even a pause to take it all in

                     

                      Immediately you are classified in her eyes

                      Another experiment

                      She will oversee your treatment, better known as your only chance

                     We discuss alternative therapies, and concentrate on one day at a time

           

                     We or you or someone decides on the poison cocktail

                     They say it does burn your insides

                     But, good news, it could kill off the disease

                     Someone sits down with me and discusses statistics

                     Offers to listen

 

                     I don’t feel comfortable allowing myself to feel

                    Am I your referee or your judge?

                    Your always being X-rayed, or doped when I can chat

                    To see your constitution looking so frail

                    Eating a slice of pizza makes me feel guilty

                    I think of the nausea it would cause you

 

                    I question what is circulating in your blood

                    Chemotherapy, morphine, antibiotics, and all in the name of another day

                   We joke about slight organ damage

                    All in the name of another day

                    The cause being life

                    Different physicians, different opinions

                    Hope given then taken

                    

                    I’m dizzy after each days diagnosis

                    Your room starts to reek of cancer

                   Or is it just the scent of cocktails

                    I know about the cells

                   How they can’t stop growing like a child who overdoses on calcium and

                   nutrients

                   Then the cause is beating the cell growth

                   But, the poison cocktail has taken a toll on your heart

                     I prepare for the inevitable

 

                     I alone have to tell you of your death sentence

                    With the presumption that you would want to know

                    Not in days or hours but just that it is

                    Inevitable

                    Unfair

                    That you can’t beat your blood’s blueprint

                    That neither of us are ready

                    We pretend and then the cocktails numb you and I learn

                    How to go beyond the pain for your sake

 

                    You went to the stratosphere with me holding your hand

                    For awhile I’m afraid to step into each day without you

                    Then you sent me hope in your message from the stratosphere

                    I now anticipate a new start, always with your infectious love

                    Imprinted on my heart

EDU 530-01

Jeff Gundy

Poetry

Sonya Bishop-Makhulu

 

 

                                           Under Water

 

 

                      There is a quarantine in the seaside village

                      Some unknown disease has entered in

                      They cancelled the shellfish festival

                      Even the fish aren’t well

 

                     The cure is supposedly unadulterated seaweed

                     From some other coast

                     Some place where the shellfish are still hearty

 

                     Ms. Mollusk was its first victim

                     She broke out in hives and applied coconut lotion

                     The doctor refused to come

                     He has ten kids, you see

                     Promises to attend to the weak and frail

                     When his shipment of seaweed arrives

 

                     In the meantime the villagers search for divine inspiration

                     Through Mr. Calamari’s fiddle

                     His melodies are a fictitious and welcome distraction

                     While we wait for unadulterated seaweed

                     We dance to the harmonics of the bow and string

                     An infectious circle we make

 

                     Later we’ll have a seashell exhibition

                     To take our minds away from the fact

                     That there is a quarantine in our seaside village

                     And the fish are still unwell

                     And the physician is still indefinitely away

 

 

EDU 530-01

Jeff Gundy

Poetry

Sonya Bishop-Makhulu

 

                                    Catch The Red Bus

 

 

                      

                      Catch the double-decker red bus while you can

                      So what if you lack the correct fare

                      If you climb to its peak

                      You may avoid the bus conductor

                      He may stay in his trance on the lower deck

 

                      Sometimes you’ll find the early morning tabloids

                      Just lying in wait, so take a seat

                      Free gossip to stimulate your day

                      Deep breaths and take in exhaust and morning’s pollution donation

                      The asphyxiation of the city

       

                      Maybe the coffee at Starbucks is cold

                      Who cares, we still get variety

                      Take in a caffeine overdose from countries you’ll never see

                      Interrogate your boss at work

                      He’s never been neighborly anyway

 

                      And don’t forget to compliment Mr. Yank’s necktie

                      In case he forgets to wear it again tomorrow

                      Allow that fly in your office to live

                      A pest has a life too

                      Or maybe take the bug home in a jar

 

                     Go home on the double-decker bus

                     Stop at the temple on your way back

                     Confess, cry, or renew your vows

                     This way you and the fly’s trespasses are covered

 

                     Tomorrow may bring danger or nothing unexpected

                     At least you and that fly are now connected

                     To live in peace and harmony

                     And to travel into another avenue on the red double-decker bus