Chatterbox: Inkwell



Okay, I started one a long time ago, but that one died, and then I started yet another one, and THAT ONE DISAPPEARED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This time, I am confident my thread will not disappear or die.

So here's how it'll go. If you join, you'll vote between these random three poets: Robert Frost, Edgar Allen Poe, or Emily Dickinson. You must vote for ONE OF THESE, though you may, ALONG WITH YOUR VOTE, suggest nominees for the next time we vote (which wont be too far away).

If you dont know any of these poets, just vote for a random one or go with the majority. 

Once we have voted for a poet, I will present some of their poems and discuss them a and explore their meaning, and at some point, I'll give you a prompt related to the poem, and we may write our own poetry inspired by the poems.

Oh, and can we have someone to be a "Word Wizard" and look up words you thinkwe wont know.

I cant wait to start!

I vote for........R-no, I vote for Edgar Allen Poe! 

submitted by Owlgirl AKA Elena O., age 11, Texas
(July 11, 2015 - 5:32 pm)

Wow, Hermione, I've read this poem lots of times, and I havent realized that yet! that the first part is about love, and parting....I never paid too much attention to that.


I think that Poe's trying to say that this world that we live in right now, is not really our reality. This is all just an illusion, we're not seeing things the way they are, they're not real. And he is depressed and longed for searching the real reality, escaping his life, that's only a dream. He knows that all the things that 'exist' in this world are also an illusion. He tried so hard to wake up, but he's stuck in unreal reality, and he's depressed about that.


Oh my gosh, I feel like I've woken up from along nap. This makes me so so so happy, how deep I'm diggin now!!!

I know the core meaning of this poem now. Before, I had just translated it...but now...omg omg!!!!


You're right, Hermione, this is totally like Einstein's theory of relativity. 

submitted by Owlgirl AKA Elena O., age 11, Texas
(July 26, 2015 - 8:14 pm)

Einstein and Poe should meet up. I bet they'd talk for hours about relativity and reality and life, and etc, etc.Tongue out

submitted by Owlgirl AKA Elena O., age 11, Texas
(July 26, 2015 - 8:15 pm)
Oh, and here's the schedule:
Edgar Allen Poe:
1. Share the poem. (READ) CHECK!
2. Word Wizard, look up our words. (DEFINE)    CHECK!
3. Discuss the poem, its meaning, its feeling, how we would have changed it, whatever you want to discuss about it! (DISCUSS) I will also give discussion questions.
4. I give prompts, we discuss it and write our own poems. (WRITE)
5. Discuss each other's poems, compare it, etc. (WRITE)
What might you have done differently if you had written this poem?
What effect does the rhyme have on the poem's content? Does it make it seem more or less serious?
Is this poem about the nature of reality or the nature of loss? Can it be about both?
submitted by Owlgirl AKA Elena O., age 11, texas
(July 27, 2015 - 8:50 am)

If i had written this poem....well, I like it just the way it is, but if I HAD to change it, and make it my own...uh...idk!!!!


The rhyme, in this instance, I think, makes it more serious.

I'm not sure about the nature of loss....where does loss come into this poem? I'd say it's definitely the nature of reality, and the loss of time....wait, did I just say "loss"? Yes, I did! I DO think this poem is ALSO about the nature of loss. LOSS OF TIME!!!!


submitted by Owlgirl AKA Elena O., age 11, Texas
(July 27, 2015 - 10:12 am)

uh... Buggy? Sydeny? Rose bud? Aubrey? Somebody? Hermione G?

Are Hermione A and I the only ones discussing this?


submitted by Owlgirl AKA Elena O., age 11, Texas
(July 27, 2015 - 10:07 am)

And I quote from a line in the play "Our Town":

"Do any human beings ever realize life while they live it--every, every minute? No. The saints and poets, maybe they do some."


Wow! Thanks, Owlgirl, for reminding us of this great line.


submitted by Owlgirl AKA Elena O., age 11, Texas
(July 27, 2015 - 10:19 am)

I am here! Lets see... first, I want to study the poem and see if I can find anything of interest.

submitted by Rose bud
(July 27, 2015 - 11:13 am)

Have you ever been dreaming, or half-dreaming, or somewhat asleep, and you suddenly realize that you are dreaming, but you are still asleep? When you realize that, you wake up, and it feels so strange to wake up from a dream that you knew you were dreaming? I think that " A dream within a dream" is a complicated sequence of dreams and love. When the narrarator (Poe) says goodbye to love, it feels like it has all been a dream, and now he is parting from it, waking up, and since he had known he was dreaming, everything suddenly felt like a dream. At least, that is how I interpret this poem :) This probably isn't true, but I like to think of where the insperation came from. 

submitted by Rose bud
(July 27, 2015 - 11:20 am)

@Rose bud

Ohmygosh, THANK you!!!!! Rose bud, that thinking is SO deep. You put into words EXACTLY what I thought, but that I didnt know how to explain.

I'm not sure Poe was thinking that exactly when he wrote this, but another thing we do when discussing poetry, besides interpreting what the poem meant to the poet, is we think about what it means to US. A really good poem can mean a lot of things. 

That brings me to a good question: fellow poet fanatics, what does this poem mean to YOU? 


@Sydney C:

I totally agree!

I agree when you say: "Like, now that it's all gone, it's like it never happened. That none of it matters anymore. And now he's in greater reality and doesn't want to be, because he liked the sort-of-but-it-turns-out-not-really-reality reality (as in, life..?). But now it's gone and won't be back."


Arrgh, you people put into words what I didnt think could be put into words!!!!!!!!!


submitted by Owlgirl AKA Elena O., age 11, Texas
(July 27, 2015 - 8:19 pm)

ok Rose bud, i see that youre posting but i dont see you posts.


 She might have to try reposting. Let us know if the problem continues. -Admins. 

submitted by Owlgirl AKA Elena O., age 11, Texas
(July 27, 2015 - 11:21 am)

Oh, ok I see them now.

submitted by Owlgirl AKA Elena O., age 11, Texas
(July 27, 2015 - 8:13 pm)

Sorry, my brother came into town, and I'm not allowed to be on the computer on Sundays.

HOLY CATS!! Poe is a really deep thinker, but I think you three actually understand his poem.  I mean, that is some really deep stuff. Not many people realize that we are losing time, and getting older. They all think "Live in the moment." I think in Poe's poem it's trying to say, try to live all of your life. You only have it for so long.  Because when you live in the moment you are bound to do reckless things you will regret later in life. Poe is trying to tell them, (thought he didn't live in this era)  try to live the rest of your life. They are so many things to be cherished, while we have it. If you don't fully apcetiate life, now you will just let it slip through your fingers like a grain of sand. I think he knw that we might have this problem in the future, so he wrote this poem as if a plea to help teens rethink what they are doing with thier lives. A cry for help if you will.  So yep, that's what I got from his poem.

Plus Owlgirl, your poem was mind blowing! Amazing!! I think if you put "Becuase when you are walking through this forest at midnight, AND the wind whispers in your ear."I think and might be more helpful instead of "when the."

Also, is it still to late to post our Robert Frost poems? I been thinking really long and hard, until inspration slapped me in the face. Yeah, I know we already started Poe, but is it too late? 


submitted by Buggy
(July 27, 2015 - 1:32 pm)


Of course it is not too late to post your Frost poem!!!!!! It will never be too late.Smile I'd love to see it. And thanks for your critique.

I think I partially agree when you say Poe is telling us to live life while we have it, or, Carpe Diem! (seize the day). 

But I think that idea only applies to the first part. Like Hermione said, the poem is divided into two moods: the first, what you described, and the second....sort of the opposite approach. Instead of hopeful, Poe is now desperate and depressed that time is falling away, and at this moment is dwelling too much on the future instead of the present.

I wonder what he decided on in the end.

P.S. "Holy Cats"? you crack me up. I like that phrase. 



submitted by Owlgirl AKA Elena O., age 11, Texas
(July 27, 2015 - 8:12 pm)

Sorry for not posting! I had a party yesterday, then camp today...But I'm here. I know that's not exactly what he says, but it kind of seems like he thinks all his life might as well have been a dream. Like, now that it's all gone, it's like it never happened. That none of it matters anymore. And now he's in greater reality and doesn't want to be, because he liked the sort-of-but-it-turns-out-not-really-reality reality (as in, life..?). But now it's gone and won't be back.

submitted by Sydney C., age 12
(July 27, 2015 - 2:44 pm)

Okay, so here is my poem. It's kinda wierd, and not well written. But I hope that you see things you can crituqe! 

A Dreamer's Eyes
The paper plane in my hands
holds a very important task.
The person who has my heart in bands,
my love, my flame, is lost.
The wind has never been wrong,
carrying my plane forward.
For it floats on the notes of a song,
that my dear love one sang.
I stand before two roads,
and clutch my precious vessel.
As I shiver in the cold, 
I ponder of which one to take.
The path that was one,
tore itself into two.
Where it comes undone, 
stands a forest of trees.
The trail to the right 
juts out with thorns.
It seems a terrible flight,
for my fragile paper plane.
While the one to the left, 
is filled with whispers and shadows.
That would surely be the death,
of the key to finding my heart.
Now one question remains, 
which path did my dreamer take?
Or even the mistake drains,
the words of your song?
It is now I must test my faith, 
of the little plane of paper.
For I fear the song turning into wraith,
before it's wings set sail.
Faintly whispers the echo
of the familiar song.
It is now that I know,
my companion will not fail me.
I feel a slight breeze 
soaring through the sky.
Also a shaking through my knees,
as I think of my love's face.
Paper slips through my fingers,
as I watch my plane take flight.
Take it to my little dreamer,
so they may not be lost anymore!
Which path will it take,
where did my wanderer go?
Baited breath I wait,
and watch it zoom ahead.
The left path,
no, right!
My plane sways as if it's doing math,
this should not be hard!
It flies higher still,
oh where is it going?!
It swoops up until,
it dives into the forest between.
Screams and agony
leave my open mouth!
Oh this is a tragedy,
my faithful paper plane failed!
My poor lost love,
little dreamer where could you be?
Did wings of the paper dove,
not fly on your sweet song?
No this cannot happen,
it promised me you!
My heart was the captive
of your sparkling eyes!
What am I doing,
shouldn't I have more faith?
Did I lose ear of your soft cooing,
your truthful words?
I would not lie to you,
or you to me.
Is that what I'm to do,
is it my dreamer?
Then it struck me,
as when the clock does twelve!
My heart fills with glee,
for I've finally found you!
My paper plane does not lie,
neither does your song.
For my mind was just shy,
of the knowledge you have.
You did not take the right road,
nor the one to the left.
No longer am I cold,
for I know now.
You took the third path,
that no one could see.
Your eyes needed no map,
because you've the mind of a dreamer.
Not one or two,
nor left or right.
There could only be one way for you,
and that was through the middle!
For you took the way, 
only dreamers could see. 
There was no delay,
you went through the trees.
Now only if,
others could see.
Natures gift,

the road through the trees. 

submitted by Buggy
(July 28, 2015 - 11:49 am)