Golden Shovel Poems

This is called Golden Shovel Poetry. You take a poem you like that has meaning to you and you choose one or more lines from the original poem. You write the words down the right side of your paper and then add words in front of them to create a new poem.  Below is one that I wrote.  Nikki Grimes does this a lot. You can find it in her book One Last Word. This is a book of poetry inspired by the Harlem Renaissance.  She also has one in the book where she used the entire poem Mother to Son by Langston Hughes.  I am having my students create one of these using a poem of their choice. After all it is National Poetry Month.  On the left side you will find the original poem, or if it is too long, an excerpt. On the right side you will find the poetry written from it by my students.

NOTHING GOLD CAN STAY                                                                      

By Robert Frost                                                                                                

Nature’s first green is gold,                                                                                 

Her hardest hue to hold.                                                         

Her early leaf’s a flower;                                                              

But only so an hour.                                                                                   

Then leaf subsides to leaf. Gold                                                                     

So Eden sank to grief,                                                             

So dawn goes down to day. 

Nothing gold can stay.

Embrace Life by Sandra Stiles

Life is short so

embrace it. Get up with the Dawn

and see where your day goes.

Will it take you down

memory lane, or to 

a new adventure for another day?

Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night by Dylan Thomas

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.  
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Speak Out by Abigail Rudolph

I am warning you. Do

not tell me to be quiet. Do not

tell me to sit down and behave like you want me to. Go

on. I dare you to tell me to be gentle

with my words and actions. Tell me to keep all my rage and passion in

my head. Tell me to

ignore the storm in my head that

begs me to scream. To stand up. To speak out against the "good"

rules that you have designed to hold me back. I will fight all through the night.

I will rage

against you. I will speak out against the rage

you have cast upon me to make me silent. Never again! I will speak against

the mold you have set out for me. Against the

rules that bind me. I will rage until my dying

days. I will speak of

truth and freedom. I will speak of the

hope of love and light.

     Bullying Poem  author unknown

           You may think you’re cool coz you call me names,

       And you may think I’m hurting inside.
      You may even choose to get nasty,
      But do you really think I’m going to hide?

2     Lots of people look up to you,

 They’re scared if they don’t you’ll turn sour.

 I bet half of them think you’re a bully,

 But when you speak to them, they just cower.

         You have everybody below you,

 Obeying your every demand.

 But if somebody bigger came along

 You would bury your head in the sand.

4       You’re not just a bully, but a coward,

 Who’s jealous of people like me.

 Am I really as bad as you make me feel,

 Or the person who you want to be?

5       I know I can talk to my teachers,

My parents, family, and friends

To tell them how you make me feel,

Please let this bullying end.

          Did You Know by Kelly M.   

                                Did you know you’re   

                                 Amazing, you’re not   

             Only smart and funny, you’re just   

                                          A nice person, a   

      Kind person, you’d stand up to a bully,   

                        You’d do it for anyone, But   

               You wouldn’t be rude, you’d be a   

                          person to remind a coward   

                      To be brave, or a bully who’s   

                    helpful and sweet, how jealous   

                                            one might be of   

                          your greatness, how people   

                            might wish they were like   

                                   you, people like me.   

I Am the People, the Mob  by Carl Sandburg    

    I am the people—the mob—the crowd—the mass.

    Do you know that all the great work of the world is done through me?

    I am the workingman, the inventor, the maker of the world’s food and clothes.

    I am the audience that witnesses history. The Napoleons come from me and the Lincolns.

    They die. And then I send forth more Napoleons and Lincolns.

    I am the seed ground. I am a prairie that will stand for much plowing. Terrible storms pass

    over me. I forget. The best of me is sucked out and wasted. I forget. Everything but Death

    comes to me and makes me work and give up what I have. And I forget.

    Sometimes I growl, shake myself and spatter a few red drops for history to remember.

    Then—I forget.

    When I, the People, learn to remember, when I, the People, use the lessons of yesterday and

    no longer forget who robbed me last year, who played me for a fool—then there will be

    no speaker in all the world say the name: “The People,” with any fleck of a sneer in his

    voice or any far-off smile of derision.

    The mob—the crowd—the mass—will arrive then.

                                   I Am by Alicea S.     

                            Do you know what I     

                               Do? Or who I am?     

         Do you know that I work for the     

                                                  People     

                              Of my “kind”? The     

                                   People, The mob     

                                       I’m part of the     

                                mob and the crowd     

                                                  I am the     

                                                      mass.     

     Ultimately – Khai Dreams

     [verse 3]

     Ultimately it’s a beautiful thing

     Like flowers blooming in a lonely field

     The petals drift through crossing winds

     They find their way to rivers, streams

     That scent the water beautifully. It takes me back to you

     It takes me back to you.

                     That Scent by Tuyen L.     

         The sweet flower that is you. That     

                                         Creates your scent     

    That enraptures me. For a love of the     

                       Forest can flood my waters     

 With boats of love and care. Beautifully     

  Weaving a future anew. For our love, it     

                                                                                     Takes     

                                                        A lifetime for me     

                                            To find my way back     

                                                                              Back to     

                                              The one I miss, you.     

     A Short Little Poem with Meaning by Frederick                                                                                           

     The hardest part of letting go                             

     Is to forgive that I know                                                  

     The best gift you will receive                            

     Is the chance to believe                                                                                        

     The easiest thing you’ll ever do                                                             

     Is distinguishing the lie from truth                     

     And in this all

     Don’t ever forget

     Live ur life

     With no regret!

Waves of Diversity by Mallory S.     

Whether we are friend or foe the     

differences are the hardest     

mountain to climb, unless we part     

 the waves of     

diversity. Letting     

ourselves shine wherever we go.     

     Excerpt from The Tyger by William Blake  

     Tyger, Tyger burning bright,                             

     In the forests of the night,

     What immortal hand or eye                             

     Could frame thy fearful symmetry

 Burn Bright Tyger by Madison B.     

                           

You’re different, so stand tall like a tyger     

     People don’t want you to? Well, you’re a tyger,     

     You are fierce and precious, you are burning     

      In their darkness. Be bright,     

      Like yourself. You are the brilliant star in         

     The shadows. They are the     

     Ones at fault, shunning your light. Dark Forests     

Have that beautiful bioluminescence, that’s you, child of     

    Starlight. Be strong, be brave, be you, in the     

     Darkness. You are a star, brighten the night.