Unit 7: Lesson 5 IMA

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Writing prompt 5 is the best

The poem that I actually appreciated the most from unit 7 was “New Born”(writing prompt 5). In each of the other assignments, I was asked to write a poem based on a specific figurative device. The best poem that expresses its figurative device the most is “New Born.” This poem especially, conveys the images that it is trying to convey, images of a new born or a baby. It has many comparisons that are very uncommon and unique “like a star at its nebula state.” What I like about this poem is that it communicates the message, but, in short form (The poem is only five lines).

To view the poem, click here


Unit 8: Lesson 8 IMA

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Summer 2011, by mohtadi alkhaliq

When the sun rises on a clear day,

a day like all the other summer days,

I’d be sleeping dreaming of playing in an inflatable pool.

Comfortable not wanting to move,

I am disturbed by a little touch.

Waiting for me, sitting on the table,

is an egg, smelling so fine.

As I get seated, I remember that I’m late for school,

Regretful, I rush to my room and pack up my bag,

forgetting to put on my cloths.

Confused, i realize that my sister is still home.

Then i ask, sister, why are you here?

informing me she says, “remember, its a summer day.”

Unit 8: Lesson 6 IMA

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When I became the star of my grade 3 class,

I was glimmering as a star in a pitch black galaxy,

as the centre of attention,



I shared my life with my admirers and the world revolved around me,

Was I the sun? I wondered.

I shared pictures, stories, favourite objects.

As I looked at the shining, excited eyes of my friends,

I wanted to give them more, food for the body as much as for the soul,

My specialty vietnamese salad made with love rays.

At the end of the week, my light began to dim,


and I worried that I’d be a black a hole.

However, the next week started with a new star, and I became the moon, reflecting the light of my friend.



The snapshot I chose to write my poem

The snapshot I chose to write my poem








Unit 8: Lesson 3 IMA

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The IT poem:


It stares at me I stare at it,

I want a ride but I’m scared of it

I shut my terror-filled eyes and hop on it

I jump with joy and fall off it

what is it?

Unit 8: Lesson 2 IMA

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I came home again, put the groceries away
Proud of the willpower I had summoned today.
I made a light lunch, nothing fattening of course.
I was bound and determined I’d have no need for remorse.

I thought I’d see what my next blog post would entail
But first I remembered to go check my mail.
A plain package was waiting, a simple disguise,
I had no way of knowing it would do harm to my thighs.

I opened the wrapping and dug deep down inside
Where lots of my favourites were trying to hide.
I saw fudge chunks and cocoa and dark chocolate chips
I knew they meant trouble but took a few nips.

unit 8: Lesson 1 IMA

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  1. Lyric poetry expresses personal and emotional feelings.
  2. ninety-second popular songs and fifteen-second television commercials.
  3. Internal forms of repetition.
  4. By the repetition (beats in a song), use of striking images and  subjects that concern us, and by using refrains, catch phrases, and other verbal devices. Sometimes, in very quick sequences, a series of “poetic” fragments that try to associate the particular product with a feeling or goal that is highly valued (love, health etc), are used to aid memory.
  5.  If people wanted the poems to be remembered without mass-printing, they had to use oral transmission to pass on the poems to their children (descendants), and to do so they had to make sure their descendants memorized the poems. At that time, they used Mnemonic verbal devices, and repeat performances to achieve that goal. To make them easier to memorize, they sung the poems and chanted them with musical accompaniment. Also, they used incremental repetition to help the memorization (lines that change only slightly in each appearance).
  6. Describes a feeling, observation, memory, or a moment one has or has had and cares about.
  7. Feelings also became primary.

Unit 7: Lesson 3 IMA

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Anger sits snapping his whip against the wall

his red face swollen with blood.


He is being chewd up from the inside

and festers alone on the darkness.


His clothes are all slit and sliced,

and his face is all chipped and choped .

He is a volcano ready to erupt


with eyes as huge, dark smouldering hollows, just waiting to discharge.

Bent over and furious

with himself and the world

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