Logan+H

A Man May Make a Remark- Emily Dickinson

A Man may make a Remark - In itself - a quiet thing That may furnish the Fuse unto a Spark In dormant nature - lain -

Let us divide - with skill - Let us discourse - with care - Powder exists in Charcoal - Before it exists in Fire.

To me, the poem means that making a small remark may have a large effect. "In itself- a quiet thing That may furnish the Fuse unto a Spark" This means the small remark could spark anger among others. The last two lines of the poem mean that you are fueling the anger with your remark. The author uses personification when he says that the remark created a spark because in the literal sense, a remark cannot create a spark.

Sharks' Teeth- Kay Ryan

Everything contains some silence. Noise gets its zest from the small shark's-tooth- shaped fragments of rest angled in it. An hour of city holds maybe a minute of these remnants of a time when silence reigned, compact and dangerous as a shark. Sometimes a bit of a tail or fin can still be sensed in parks.

This poem means that silence is dangerous. The author compares the danger of the silence to the danger of the shark using a simile. The author also uses personification because silence cannot rain.

Sick- Shel Silverstein

"I cannot go to school today," Said little Peggy Ann McKay. "I have the measles and the mumps, A gash, a rash and purple bumps. My mouth is wet, my throat is dry, I'm going blind in my right eye. My tonsils are as big as rocks, I've counted sixteen chicken pox And there's one more--that's seventeen, And don't you think my face looks green? My leg is cut--my eyes are blue-- It might be instamatic flu. I cough and sneeze and gasp and choke, I'm sure that my left leg is broke-- My hip hurts when I move my chin, My belly button's caving in, My back is wrenched, my ankle's sprained, My 'pendix pains each time it rains. My nose is cold, my toes are numb. I have a sliver in my thumb. My neck is stiff, my voice is weak, I hardly whisper when I speak. My tongue is filling up my mouth, I think my hair is falling out. My elbow's bent, my spine ain't straight, My temperature is one-o-eight. My brain is shrunk, I cannot hear, There is a hole inside my ear. I have a hangnail, and my heart is--what? What's that? What's that you say? You say today is. . .Saturday? G'bye, I'm going out to play.

The poem is about a girl who makes up a lie about being sick so she doesnt have to go to school. Then the girl finds out that it's Saturday and she admits that she isn't sick. Shel Silverstein uses rhyme repeatedly in the poem.