Name ________________________________

Group Poetry Project

Assignment: For this project, you will work with your assigned group to teach a poem to the class!
Each group will receive a poet and a poem, and you will have to work with your group members to
develop a 10-15 minute mini lesson to teach in front of the class. What you decide to teach
about your poem is up to you and your group members!

Your lesson could focus on one of the following:

-Background information about the poet (connect this information to the poem)
-Theme/s of the poem
-Poetic devices and their effects within the poem
-Historical context of the poem
-Modern day parallels to the poem
-Applying a literary lens (socioeconomic, feminist, etc.)

Your lesson MUST include:

-A Google Slides or PowerPoint presentation to help guide your lesson
-An OBJECTIVE (Ex: Students will be able to determine how Whitman’s use of free
verse reinforces a theme of the poem)
-An ACTIVATOR (quick activity to begin your lesson)
-Copies of the poem for the class to read
-Copies of a handout for the class (questions, notes sheet, graphic organizer, etc.)
-An EXIT ACTIVITY (concluding discussion, concluding question, exit slip, etc.)

When teaching the lesson, you may feel free to ask questions, call on students, or give students the
opportunity to ask you questions. You must practice your lesson as a group to ensure that you are
accurately teaching what you want the class to learn and that you are doing so in a cohesive, timely
manner!

You will have three days to research your poem/poet and plan and practice your mini lesson. Every
member of your group MUST CONTRIBUTE EQUALLY while preparing the lesson and while
teaching the class. You will have the opportunity to grade yourself as well as each of your group
members; your feedback will contribute to your final grade.

Your group is responsible for making all copies (a class set of 30) and having the copies in class on
the first day of presentations!
Possible Poets/Poems:
Maya Angelou—“Phenomenal Woman”
Anne Sexton—“Her Kind”
Anne Bradstreet—“To My Dear and Loving Husband”
Robert Frost—“Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening”
Sylvia Plath—“Mirror”
Walt Whitman—“O Captain! My Captain!”

GROUP PRESENTATIONS: ________________________________

EXTRA CREDIT FOR DRESSING PROFESSIONALLY THE DAY OF THE PRESENTATION! 

 GROUP POETRY PROJECT
CHECKLIST

PART I: Contribution (Individual)

Working cooperatively with other group members
Utilizing class time wisely
Contributing equally to the development of the lesson
Contributing equally to the execution of the lesson

PART II: Preparation of Lesson (Group)

Sound understanding of the poem
Thorough research of the poem
Clear purpose for the lesson (OBJECTIVE)
Effective ACTIVATOR
Development of helpful handout to guide the class
Effective conclusion to the lesson
Evidence of practice presenting the lesson

PART III: Execution of Lesson (Group)

Strong, professional presence in front of the class
Lesson timed appropriately
Equal sharing in the teaching of the lesson
OBJECTIVE of the lesson is displayed
Class is actively engaged in learning the poem
Objective of the lesson is achieved
Lesson concludes with an effective summarizer/exit activity
Presentation/handouts demonstrate mastery of Standard English grammar/spelling
 “To My Dear and Loving Husband”
Anne Bradstreet

If ever two were one, then surely we.

If ever man were lov'd by wife, then thee.
If ever wife was happy in a man,
Compare with me, ye women, if you can.

I prize thy love more than whole Mines of gold

Or all the riches that the East doth hold.
My love is such that Rivers cannot quench,
Nor ought but love from thee give recompense.

Thy love is such I can no way repay.

The heavens reward thee manifold, I pray.
Then while we live, in love let's so persevere
That when we live no more, we may ever.
 “Her Kind”
Anne Sexton

I have gone out, a possessed witch,

haunting the black air, braver at night;
dreaming evil, I have done my hitch
over the plain houses, light by light:
lonely thing, twelve-fingered, out of mind.
A woman like that is not a woman, quite.
I have been her kind.

I have found the warm caves in the woods,

filled them with skillets, carvings, shelves,
closets, silks, innumerable goods;
fixed the suppers for the worms and the elves:
whining, rearranging the disaligned.
A woman like that is misunderstood.
I have been her kind.

I have ridden in your cart, driver,

waved my nude arms at villages going by,
learning the last bright routes, survivor
where your flames still bite my thigh
and my ribs crack where your wheels wind.
A woman like that is not ashamed to die.
I have been her kind.
 “O Captain! My Captain!”
Walt Whitman

O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done;

The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won;
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring:
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.

O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;

Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills;

For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding;
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
Here Captain! dear father!
This arm beneath your head;
It is some dream that on the deck,
You've fallen cold and dead.

My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still;
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will;
The ship is anchor'd safe and sound, its voyage closed and done;
From fearful trip, the victor ship, comes in with object won;

Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells!

But I, with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
 “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening”
Robert Frost

Whose woods these are I think I know.

His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer

To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake

To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.

But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
 “Mirror”
Sylvia Plath

I am silver and exact. I have no preconceptions.

Whatever I see I swallow immediately
Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike.
I am not cruel, only truthful --
The eye of a little god, four-cornered.
Most of the time I meditate on the opposite wall.
It is pink, with speckles. I have looked at it so long
I think it is part of my heart. But it flickers.
Faces and darkness separate us over and over.

Now I am a lake. A woman bends over me,

Searching my reaches for what she really is.
Then she turns to those liars, the candles or the moon.
I see her back, and reflect it faithfully.
She rewards me with tears and an agitation of hands.
I am important to her. She comes and goes.
Each morning it is her face that replaces the darkness.
In me she has drowned a young girl, and in me an old woman
Rises toward her day after day, like a terrible fish.
 “Phenomenal Woman”
Maya Angelou

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.

I’m not cute or built to suit a fashion model’s size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I’m telling lies.
I say,
It’s in the reach of my arms,
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

I walk into a room

Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,
It’s the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.

Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

Men themselves have wondered

What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can’t touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them,
They say they still can’t see.
I say,
It’s in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

Now you understand

Just why my head’s not bowed.
I don’t shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing,
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It’s in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
the palm of my hand,
The need for my care.
’Cause I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.