Creative Writing the_seven_types_of_imagery.ppt

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1. Do-Now:
Why do photographers take pictures?
Why do so many people go to galleries to
view these pictures?
What effect can a great photograph
have on you, society, or the world?
Finally, how does this idea connect to
authors and literature?

2. The Seven
Types of
Imagery
What are they? Why do
author’s use them? How
can they help us to better
interpret literature?

3. The Seven Types of Imagery
Visual
Auditory
Olfactory
Gustatory
Tactile
Organic
Kinesthetic

4. Visual Imagery
A visual image occurs
when a poet or author
represents something
through sight
On the next poem, let’s identify visual
images…

5. Visual Imagery
Woman with Flower
I wouldn't coax the plant if I were you.
Such watchful nurturing may do it harm.
Let the soil rest from so much digging
And wait until it's dry before you water it.
The leaf's inclined to find its own direction;
Give it a chance to seek the sunlight for itself.
Much growth is stunted by too careful
prodding,
Too eager tenderness.
The things we love we have to learn to leave alone.
-Naomi Long Madgett

6. “The Scarlet Ibis”
Find two sentences
within the story that
are examples of
visual imagery

7. Auditory Imagery
An auditory image occurs
when something is
represented through sound
On the next poem, let’s identify auditory
images…

8. Auditory Imagery
IF TREES COULD DO AS WE...
If trees could talk as we,
Oh, how they would echo
Earth’s praises;
If trees could sing as we,
Gee, how they and we would
Harmonize a sweet song of
Spring breezes;
If trees could walk as you and I
With dances of lift and light;
If trees could, then we could
Imagine of them, their life, their soul,
In our minds and hearts;
And spare of them their life for us.
-Frederick Douglas Harper

9. Olfactory Imagery
An olfactory image
occurs when a poet or
author represents a smell
On the next poem, pair up with your
nearest neighbor and highlight or
underline as many examples of olfactory
imagery as you can…

10. Olfactory Imagery
Messy Room
Whosever room this is should be ashamed!
His underwear is hanging on the lamp.
His raincoat is there in the overstuffed chair,
And the chair is becoming quite mucky and damp.
His workbook is wedged in the window,
His sweater's been thrown on the floor.
His scarf and one ski are beneath the TV,
And his pants have been carelessly hung on the door.
His books are all jammed in the closet,
His vest has been left in the hall.
A lizard named Ed is asleep in his bed,
And his smelly old sock has been stuck to the wall.
Whosever room this is should be ashamed!
Donald or Robert or Willie or--
Huh? You say it's mine? Oh, dear,
I knew it looked familiar!
-Shel Silverstein

11. Gustatory Imagery
A gustatory image is the
representation of a taste
On the next poem, highlight or underline
a gustatory image, then share your
findings with a partner. While doing this,
be sure to underline any they found that
you may have missed.

12. Gustatory Imagery
Taste of Summer
Crushed leaves and grass
tasty tangy smells of summer
Trees are full and plush
Fruits are succulent and ripe
The Gulmohar bright and proud
sways in the brisk warm breeze.
Lazy silent afternoons are intoxicating;
Balmy winds refresh the evening walkers
Thirsty birds skip from branch to branch
looking for water troughs.
fearless rowdy boys are at play
the sun doesn’t dampen their playful spirits.
As the dusk falls in
the timid ones venture out.
I know the rains are round the corner
the brisk winds will soon be moist
I take a deep breath and try to drink the summer.
-Swati Goswami

13. Tactile Imagery
A tactile image is the
representation of touch
On the next poem, highlight or underline
two tactile images, then share them with
a neighbor…

14. Tactile Imagery
My Papa's Waltz
The whiskey on your breath
Could make a small boy dizzy;
But I hung on like death:
Such waltzing was not easy.
We romped until the pans
Slid from the kitchen shelf;
My mother's countenance
Could not unfrown itself.
The hand that held my wrist
Was battered on one knuckle;
At every step you missed
My right ear scraped a buckle.
You beat time on my head
With a palm caked hard by dirt,
Then waltzed me off to bed
Still clinging to your shirt.- Theodore Roethke

15. Organic Imagery
An organic image is the
representation of an
internal sensation
Examples: hunger, thirst, pain, longing,
regret, etc.
On the next poem, let’s identify organic
images…

16. Organic Imagery
“Hope” is the thing with feathers    
Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,
And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.
I've heard it in the chilliest land
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.
-Emily Dickinson

17. Kinesthetic Imagery
A kinesthetic image is a
representation of
physical movement
On the next poem, work with a neighbor
to see if you can locate five kinesthetic
images…

18. Kinesthetic Imagery
MONGOOSE
Their steps are quick and low,
Fastly scooting they often go,
Minding their own business of the day;
A friend of man and woman they are,
Kindly and cute animals by far;
Mongooses, how beautifully they stroll
Along;
Mongooses, how beautifully they stroll
Alone;
Their brown coat glistening in the sun,
Creatures of charm on the run.
-Frederick Douglas Harper

19. Partner Practice
Now you will receive a two-sided set of
two poems.
With a partner, using only the first poem,
“egg horror poem” by Laurel Winter,
highlight and label as many different
images as you can.

20. Independent Practice
Now, on your own, label as
many different images as you
can in W.H. Auden’s “O What Is
That Sound”

21. Exit Ticket
Choose any image from an earlier poem we have
used. Record the title, poet, image (direct quote),
and type of image.
What is the poet’s purpose in including this
image?
What feeling does this image evoke?
How does this image enhance your
understanding of the poem [or lit. or
concept] and its deeper meaning/theme?

22. egg horror poem
 small
 white
 afraid of heights
 whispering
 in the cold, dark carton
 to the rest of the dozen.
 They are ten now.
 Any meal is dangerous,
 but they fear breakfast most.
 They jostle in their compartments
 trying for tiny, dark-veined cracks-
 not enough to hurt much,
 just anything to make them unattractive
 to the big hands that reach in
 from time to random time.
 They tell horror stories
 that their mothers,
 the chickens,
 clucked to them-
 meringues,
 omelettes,
 egg salad sandwiches,
 that destroyer of dozens,
 the homemade angel food cake.
 The door opens.
 Light filters into the carton,
 "Let it be the milk,"
 they pray.
 But the carton opens,
 a hand reaches in-
 once,
 twice.
 Before they can even jiggle,
 they are alone again,
 in the cold,
 in the dark,
 new spaces hollow
 where the two were.
 Through the heavy door
 they hear the sound of the mixer,
 deadly blades whirring.
 
 They huddle,
 the eight,
 in the cold,
 in the dark,
 and wait.
-Laurel Winter

23. O What Is That Sound
O what is that sound which so thrills the ear
Down in the valley drumming, drumming?
Only the scarlet soldiers, dear,
The soldiers coming.
O what is that light I see flashing so clear
Over the distance brightly, brightly?
Only the sun on their weapons, dear,
As they step lightly.
O what are they doing with all that gear,
What are they doing this morning, morning?
Only their usual maneuvers, dear,
Or perhaps a warning.

24. O What Is That Sound (cont’d)
O why have they left the road down there,
Why are they suddenly wheeling, wheeling?
Perhaps a change in their orders, dear,
Why are you kneeling?
O haven't they stopped for the doctor's care,
Haven't they reined their horses, horses?
Why, they are none of them wounded, dear,
None of these forces.
O is it the parson they want, with white hair,
Is it the parson, is it, is it?
No, they are passing his gateway, dear,
Without a visit.

25. O What Is That Sound (cont’d)
O it must be the farmer that lives so near.
It must be the farmer so cunning, so cunning?
They have passed the farmyard already, dear,
And now they are running.
O where are you going? Stay with me here!
Were the vows you swore deceiving, deceiving?
No, I promised to love you, dear,
But I must be leaving.
O it's broken the lock and splintered the door,
O it's the gate where they're turning, turning;
Their boots are heavy on the floor
And their eyes are burning.
-W.H. Auden