Persuasive poem
This is a poem where you are trying to convince somebody of something they don’t want to be convinced of. The poem is an argument, an attempt to persuade. Think about all the situations where you are trying to convince somebody of something: getting out of a ticket, getting mom or dad to not ground you for breaking curfew, getting a date with your dream girl/boy, getting mom or dad to give you more money, getting a teacher to let you turn in late work.
As far as form, try to use couplets throughout your poem. Good luck!
posted by annes @ 7:12 AM
29 Comments:
Paige, I like your poem, but just a thought, wish and perish don't exactly rhyme.
The Game
I need to get the ball,
But you cover me as I begin to call
Out for the pass to get me through,
But you act as if you always knew.
Let me by and I will be
Another scorer as you’ll see.
Two points more for my team’s score,
As I continue to look for more.
Then it’s my turn to be
Quick and sly so nobody
Can pass me by or shoot
Over me into the hoop.
As I get the steal I rush down
The court, I take the ball to downtown,
Up in for a lay-up, and there
My eyes glare with a warning: Beware.
I’ll never get the chance though
To turn the game to a show,
To shows the strength of my team,
And prove that we are supreme.
Stumble to the lane as I fake
You into a trap just so I can make
That shot I’ve always wanted
Without being hoarded.
As I begin to plead
For something that I want and need,
Turn you head and look away,
Just so there can be someway
For you just trip or fall,
Just so I can get the ball
To take the chance to shoot, pass or drive,
To help my team and prove that I’ve
Become a team player and I want to win,
And I know just the way to begin.
Kjerstinl- I like your poem a lot! You definitely feel like a part of the game. Well done.
Paige- Your poem is kind of similar to mine! I like it a lot, and I support your cause!
So, here's mine. Sorry about its being so long!
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“Dedicated to the Poetically-Challenged”
‘Twas late at night when I sat composing,
Somewhat edging on the verge of dozing,
That I found myself fade away
As I let my thoughts go astray.
Then a thought managed to set me straight;
It made me start to contemplate.
“What a pity it ‘tis to have to write
These poems til far into the night!
The more I stay in this chair seated,
The more my energy’s depleted.”
Soon my straining eyes grew bleary
As my mind became too weary.
“A poem to change the ways of life!
A means to an end of all this strife!
Here I shall write a poem so fine
That freedom from poetry should forever be mine!”
The words soon began to flow on the page.
“A poem that is good for any age!”
Then it was done, in all of its might.
A poem that I knew would be just right.
“How shiny are the stars,
They don’t look like bars.
I wish I were one,
But then I’d be a sun.”
Later that week I was very dismayed
To get it back with a horrible grade.
So, as the moral of the story goes:
Some of us can not write prose!
My friend, some day you may have to admit
That your creativity really does have a limit.
So, if your poetry does not inspire
Much to make your grade any higher,
You must believe me when I say this:
Spare your teacher and salvage your bliss!
For those of you who knew me last year, you will know that my favorite and strongest genre of poetry is comedy. I tried to make this one kind of serious, but I couldn't control myself so I hope you find the one bit of comedy I put into it funny. Also kjerstinl, awsome poem, I almost felt involved and in the game, great job.
No
Here I lay so broken hearted,
Its 5 a.m. the day has started.
It true my larynx is congested,
Bacterial infections my throat is infested.
My nose is blocked, a barricade of snot,
What is this horrible illness I’ve caught?
Father, Mother, please let me stay home,
As my eyes begin to bulge, my mouth starts to foam.
My head feels like its four sizes to large,
My brain is swelling, it needs to recharge.
My arms feel like nothing, my legs like dust,
My bones made of iron, they’re beginning to rust.
My mouth is throbbing, my lips are chapped,
My cells are dying, my mind is trapped.
My tummy is tender, the acid is burning,
Relief, relief, my spine is yearning.
My body is unbalanced, it must be reset,
It’s almost surprising my bed sheets aren’t wet.
I’ve been awake distant hours of the night,
Thus I ask and this I write,
Please, I beg you with all of my soul,
Restrict your dictatorship, loosen your control,
Allow me to sleep, I’ll make up my work,
This is no joking matter, there is no quirk.
And so I conclude with this final question,
Will you release me of this dreadful oppression?
My parents conversed, they discussed for a while,
Then turned to me with a satanic smile.
“We have decided your fate, it is us you see,
Who have eliminated all forms of democracy.
“YOU WILL ATTEND SCHOOL!” and they laughed an evil snicker,
How stupid am I? My head so much thicker.
Why ask a question that will only be answered no?
That’s alright, I’ll request again tomorrow.
Brian I really enjoyed your poem, you definatly put you into the poem. And kinda like Sara said you do not do serious well. Good job!!!
Unlike Brian's Poem (which is great by the way), mine is on a more mellow note. I was listening to "Waiting On the World to Change" by John Mayer and it inspired me to write this. It is about all of the killing and horror that prowls through the world today. Sometimes, don't you just wish it would stop?
A Peaceful World
The fight goes on but when it ends,
A beautiful world to make amends.
This thing called life will only last,
Until all times of good things passed.
Of A peaceful world do we all dream,
And of graceful mountains and winding streams.
This world we have is on the brink,
All we need to do is stop and think.......
Conflicts go and reappear,
Leaving a feeling of hate soaked in fear.
It is times like these when man is tested,
Leaving his soul itself to be bested.
Children are left with nothing at all,
To suffer their lives until they too will fall.
How long will this plague us, this vision of war;
That fills up the minds of the meek and the poor.
Soon, very soon, it will all come to pass,
And all that is left is blank, alas...
Only so long will our mother let ravage,
These terrible deed and the spirit of savage.
So I plead to her now with all of my might,
Stop this sensation to kill and to fight.
I really like everyone's poems! Josh, yours was really good and deep! And Brian, your poem had really good word choice and was so funny!
Hairpins, lotions, and brushes litter the room,
And not even the promise of a reward can lighten my gloom.
Hands smelling strongly of bleach,
I set to work while composing a convincing speech.
“Mommy, can’t you see?
Cleaning the bathroom is as impossible as you becoming me!
“The mirror is covered in sticky lip-gloss kisses,
And stains surround the toilet my brother says he never misses.
“The immense bathtub will take an eternity to clean,
What a traumatizing experience for a teen!
“My arms are already sore and my knees unfeeling,
When this job is done I will be reeling!”
I believe that my mother will be tricked by my stealth,
Because of her great concern for my health.
As I swipe the sponge around the sink,
I look in the mirror and wink.
Ok heres my persuasivey thingy. It's a bit long again, but whats a few lines between friends?
Sugar
Lying awake in bed one night,
I think of problems in my life.
The homework in my room,
A sense in my gut of utter gloom.
The weight of responsibility
To acquaintances, friends, family.
The midnight hour draws near,
And with it the sorrows of a new year.
In my backpack, a considerable bulge,
While I myself oblige to indulge,
In something of the category “sugary sweet”
To ease the atmosphere of heat.
For when I am stressed, which happens oft,
My skin warms up and makes me hot.
But nothing a little sugar won’t cure,
Refined sugar, good and pure.
And in this hour when it’s to much to cope,
From within me comes a spark of hope.
Children in other countries broad,
Would die for an education, which I applaud.
Why then should I be subject to this pain,
When children in Africa hope in vain.
To have a life just like mine,
To forget their worries and be able to shine.
Yes, this is a reasonable thought,
Come to me with sugar brought.
How persuasive to tell my teacher,
How she must be such a miserable creature.
To assign so much to kids with more,
When it would be better used to help the poor.
With this weapon I go to bed,
Wiping away all of my dread.
Brushing away sweat I exclaim with a “whew!”
Sugar, what would I ever do without you?
Germs, germs, go away
don't come again another day.
I want to sleep.
I need to eat.
Oh please, let me be
I really need some sympathy.
I can't smell
but that's just swell.
My nose is runny
How about some tea with honey?
No, that won't do.
I need to go to school.
With a cough and a sneeze,
I beg, germs go away please!
How can I survive
while my cold does the jive?
Its winter I see,
But when will spring come for me?
To wisk away my cold
because this is getting really old.
I'm lying in bed,
just waiting to be fed.
I need some soup
and some icky goop.
These germs must go,
They have done their show.
But why do they stay,
Just to bug me one more day?
Well, that's my poem. I know it needs some editing, but that is what I started with.
Good job to everyone! Your poems sound wonderful!
Tom's poem reminds me of Shel Silverstein. I don't know why but that would be the kind of thing he would write about though perhaps less violent. I will post my poem in a moment but I'll give background here. My poem is talking about how gymnastics is better than football. I've had an ongoing argument (literally ongoing, about 6 months) with one of my good friends about this. The first couplet is actually something we both said. He, obviously said the first line and I said the second. I was thinking about these conversations, arguments, and realized that it sounded a lot like poetry. So, I wrote a poem which I shall put up in a few.
Kathryn, that poem sounds a lot like a certain other poem in your basement.
Tom, you made eating babies sound better than I ever could.
It seems like a lot of people wrote of things dealing with things revolving around getting out of school.
Nice job Tom. Where did you get the idea for eating babies? It made me laugh because of an inside joke thing between my brother and one of my friends. Thus, it kind of surprised me that you wrote that. Nice job, I like it.
Annad- Interesting poem. As you said, it is a long poem.
Kjerstinl- Hard to follow.
Paigen- I partly agree on yours, since I feel some homework is necessary.
So here is my poem:
Child Labor
They work all day,
They get little pay.
They work ‘till dusk,
Without a fuss.
Many die from fast machines,
Others die without canteens.
Children must give up their futures,
So their family can have some food.
While they are working,
The owners are smirking.
For they are rich,
But the workers are poor.
So make the decision of child labor.
Allow children to reach their potential.
If you do not help these children, they will end up in poverty.
Then the economy will suffer the consequence.
If they have a good foundation,
The economy will become stronger.
Whoa. You guys are amazing poets!
Paige--I love how you write with passion!
Briang--Hahaha comedy poems are my favorite
Sarah C--Good one...Nice job of telling a persuasive story
Christa S--I think yours is incredibe and hilarious, awesome description and word choice
Keep up the excellent work guys!!!
Here's mine:
O, dear Booth, please listen closely
I've got advice to help everything (well mostly)
I love to think, to use my brain
So then why is school such a pain?
Knowledge, college, careers and more…
Duh, it shouldn’t all be such a bore!
Are homework or teachers the cause of the muck?
Not at all, I think I just need more Starbucks!!!
The world needs to drink more coffee!
Though it wouldn’t hurt to add chocolate or toffee...
Think: Sugar, caffeine, milk, and fresh air
All the elements for a sweet life are there!
All brain stimulating, adrenaline making
See, then it would totally stop any faking
Supply us all day, every day, in every way
It’s worth it, I promise, and not a huge price to pay
We could hold a bake sale, raise money to start
I guess it comes down to this: do you have the heart?
They all seem really good compared to mine. Of course, that's not saying much when you see mine.
I’m Not Late, Just Early for Tomorrow
By Alex Manning
Mom, Dad, give it a rest.
In fact, right now, I’m on time. In Budapest.
I’m not that far off time, and you’ll come to see it
My excuse is this, I hope I don’t have to spend much time to plea it
You see, I was coming home, with plenty of time to spare,
When including baggage claim, checking, and other hazards of airfare.
I got on the plane; it took off in good time,
The Southwest experience is really divine.
So allow to me this, I’ll sell it to you
As I was arriving in the land of the red, white, and blue.
We hit a slight bump, a touch of turbulence
When it turns out, we ran, smack dab, into the neighbor’s new fence!
He came out, I ensure you, and he made quite a ruckus,
He got really mad, and then ran back inside while screaming “f*** us”.
So that is my tale, oh please do believe it.
And I’ll pay you 5 dollars, apiece if you wish, I‘m not going to bargain, take it or leave it.
Everyone who has posted is just seriously amazing! Seriously!
For an expanation on my poem...I have seriously met people who think that imagination is a bad thing, and that we should stick to the way that is known to work...to stay in reality. I understand that one cannot always be in their own little world, but I still think that Imagination is a good thing. This poem (however un-magnificant it may be) is dedicated to those who oppose the use of immagination.
Imagination Is a Good Thing
Imagination is a good thing
It can give one the courage to sing
It lets faries come alive
Or even mooses to jive
It helps a child grow and hope
And not just sit around and mope.
Imagination is a kite
Ever glittering in the light
Soaring upon the winds of dreams
For ever and ever it seems
It takes away earthly burdens
and helps a simple girl to defeat dragons
So what ever your hopes may be
Be creative, it may work, you'll see!
Imagination--dream it!
Ok here it is. The explanationish thing is in one my post above somewhere.
Gymnastics: all guts no pain?
Football: all bulk, no brain!
Running Flipping Flying
I don't want to hear you whining
What we do is crazy
but it's ok, we're not lazy
all you do is run and hit
and where's the challenge in all that?
We flip we fly we know
our bodies head to toe
Anda ll you do is run
head to head and call it fun
we wear leotards, you wear pads
but we don't shine or call our dads
we've got bulk, and control to boot you just wish you could do what we do
you think we're not tough?
or our sport's not rough?
I'd like to see you try
to hit a four inch beam and fly
four more feet in the air
can't be off even a hair
or gravity takes hold
and then we'll see how bold
and tough your football got you
Yes my friend Brandon decided to say that football wasn't a sport and we've been "arguing" ever since. Basically though both football and gymnastics are equally sport and equally tough. I just had to write the poem.
ANNA I LOVE YOURS!!!
It's really good and funny too.
Awesome job.
Here is my Metaphor 1 Poem. Eat you heart out, Vanilla!
Ode to Chocolate
Shall I compare you to vanilla, so boring?
Beside the white cream you go a soaring.
Strawberries, cheesecake, marshmallows, you’re dipped with,
Paired with your white cousin, good taste? A myth.
So comforting and sweet,
No better flavor I will meet.
Dark, milk, heated, frozen,
So many personalities, it is hard to pen.
My love for exquisite chocolate will never be shaken,
For pale, drab vanilla is no comparison.
~Laura
Tomr, I think that is one of the best poems I have ever read. I absolutely agree. You mentioned frying and boiling. But have you ever tried the microwave?
Hey guys, here's my poem. I'm currently grounded for wearing a different dress to winter formal than I told my mom I was wearing and got grounded for it. Dumb right? well here it is...
Dear mother, dear mother, dear mother
You’re surely unlike any other.
You punish me so, although I do know,
That lying is everyone’s foe.
It’s become such a mess, over one little dress,
Even though I looked good from my head to my toe.
So you’ve taken my phone, my iPod and the computer too,
The whole thing is making me really quite blue.
No more texting or music or myspace, oh no,
I really hope this is the end of a horrible show.
But I won’t give you the satisfaction of this making me mad,
(But it really is the worst week I’ve ever had.)
So I’m here to persuade you to let me run free,
I don’t need to be cooped up in this house ‘til I’m thirty-three.
I’ll do anything: I’ll clean, I’ll dust, I’ll sweep and I’ll mop,
I’m determined to all these things ‘til I drop.
Just so you’ll let me hang out with my friends,
Sigh, it seems as though this punishment will never end.
This is my poem about recycling, and I know it is rather dull, but I tried. Oh ya, and I am aware that the rhyming makes it sound funny.
Recycle for Earth
Earth is a wonderful treat
And we don’t want it destroyed in the heat
But what can I do to prevent this you say?
Why it is easy! Just recycle every day
Landfills give Earth quite a bashing
So recycle and stop all the trashing
Do your part! Recycle your cans and plastic
Working together we can make Earth fantastic!
Let companies reuse their aluminum cans
Trust me, before you know it you’ll all be fans
Remember what it’s like to have a clean Earth?
Her inhabitants surrounded by beauty and mirth?
But without recycling she looses her touch
The one that makes living worth so much
Without recycling, Earth is messy and polluted
And her people act oblivious and deluded
Now we all know that the time has come
To restore Earth to her wondrous kingdom
So do your duty and hand Earth her crown
Recycle your cans and don’t slow down
Remember that Earth is a gift
And without her we would be bereft
Cherish her beauty in every way
And recycle paper, cans and plastic every day
Ok here is my poem! I tried to rhyme...
Please brother please. Please do the dishes
Please fulfill all of my wishes
I’ll beg, I’ll plead, I’ll do whatever I have to
I need to get my rest because I am sick- ACHOO!
Faking you say? Why no I am not!
Come feel my head, it surely is hot
But I am not doing the dishes; I mean it this time
I mean it so much, your making me rhyme
On top of things I have a bad fever
Can you go grab me my little, stuffed beaver?
So thank you brother for doing my chores,
Today, or tomorrow, I will make you some s’mores.
These are all so entertaining. I love that they can be both sarcastic and just plain fun (Tom) or really pretty serious (Hannah) or even a pretty decent mix of both (mine I guess). This was a fun poem to write. And inspired by true conversation made it all the more fun for me.
Adriana,
I think your poem evokes powerful imagery and reflects an observant eye. I found it fascinating. Have you considered incorporating the mirror of perception?
Very impressive! I loved reading your poems - very expressive and thought provoking. Wish I could be back in high school with your class.
Please, I just want one chance
I swear if I get it I will not rant
I want to score
I want to make it pour
I know I can shoot
It is going to get me the loot
There is ten seconds left
C’mon it isn’t like I am a theft
I can win us the game
If I don’t get it we will look lame
Do you want to lose?
It seems like you have been hitting the booze
I will swoosh it I swear
If I don’t you can beat me like a bear
I will do your chores for a week
Stop being so weak!!
Pass me the ball
If you don’t our win will go AWOL!
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