Year+13+Creative+Writing,+Poetry+or+Drama+Unit+Standard+Term+One-6+credits


 * level: 3**


 * credit: 6**


 * final date for comment:** December 2004


 * expiry date:** December 2005


 * sub-field:** English


 * purpose:** People credited with this unit standard are able to produce sustained poetic writing in a range of complex forms.


 * entry information:** Open.


 * accreditation option:** Evaluation of documentation by NZQA.


 * moderation option: **A centrally established and directed national moderation system has been set up by NZQA.


 * special notes:** 1 This unit standard is derived from the achievement objectives for Poetic Writing in //English in the New Zealand Curriculum//.

2 Assessment While students will gain credit for this specific skill when credited with this unit standard, in practice it will not be assessed in isolation but in the context of a larger area of study. 3 The curriculum statement defines the terms used in this unit standard, and the glossary in particular should be used in conjunction with all English unit standards.

4 Students will need to be guided through the writing process in order to meet the performance criteria.

5 //English in the New Zealand Curriculum// (Learning Media Wellington, 1996). ISBN 0 478 057261 1, Item No. 94/294.


 * __ Elements and Performance Criteria __**
 * __element 1__**

Produce sustained poetic writing in a range of complex forms.

Range: at **least three pieces** chosen from any of the following categories - poetry, prose, drama.
 * __performance criteria__**

1.1 Writing expresses idea(s), thought(s), feeling(s) or sensory qualities.

1.2 Conventions of chosen form are observed and are appropriate to the purpose of the writing.

Range: conventions could include use of a **variety of sentence structures**, **paragraphs**, use of a **variety of language features**, **literary dev**ices;
 * observing conventions may include deliberately subverting them.**

1.3 **Choice of words and language features create deliberate effect(s) to evoke an audience response.**

1.4 Text is integrated to achieve a coherent whole.

1.5 Final product is crafted to publication standard.

Range: publication standard means that technical **accuracy in spelling,** p**unctuation**, and **syntax** is sufficient so that the writing could be **published in a class or school newspaper or magazine with a few minor alterations.** Directions: View different kinds of writing in order to comment on the choice of words, and language features, sentence and paragraph structure and variety that were used to create deliberate effects or evoke an audience response. You could use news items to “trigger” prose, poetry or drama. Blackwater Hattie lived back in the swamps, where the strange green reptiles crawl, Where the snakes hang thick from the cypress trees, like sausage on a smokehouse wall Where the swamp is alive with 1000 eyes, and all of 'em watchin' you; Stay off the track of Hattie's shack, in the back of the Black Bayou. Way up the road from Hattie's shack, lies a sleep little bayou town; Talk of swamp witch Hattie will lock you in when the sun goes down; Rumours of what she'd done and rumours of what she'd do, Kept folks off the track of Hattie's shack, in the back of the Black Bayou. One day brought the rain, and the rain stayed on and the swamp water overflowed; Skeeters and the fever grabbed the town like a fist; Doc Jackson was the first to go; Some said the plague was brought by Hattie - there was talk of a hangin' too; But the talk got shackled by the howls and the cackles from the back of the Black Bayou Early one morn 'tween dark and dawn, when shadows filled the sky, There came an unseen caller on a town where hope had run dry; In the square there was found a big black round vat full of gurglin' brew Whisperin' sounds as the folks gathered round - "It came from the Black Bayou". There ain't much pride when you're trapped inside a slowly sinking ship; They scooped up the liquid, deep and green, and the whole town took a sip; Fever went away and the very next day the skies again were blue; Let's thank ol' Hattie for saving our town - we'll fetch her from the Black Bayou. Party of ten of the town's best men, headed for Hattie's shack; Said "Swamp witch Magic is useful and good, and we're gonna bring Hattie back"; Never found Hattie, never found the shack, and they never made a trip back in; Cuz a parchment note they found tacked to a stump said "Don't come lookin' again!" In a foreign field he lay lonely soldier unknown grave on his dying words he prays tell the world of Paschendale
 * // Have fun and write well!! //**

Relive all that he's been through last communion of his soul rust your bullets with his tears let me tell you 'bout his years

Laying low in a blood filled trench killing time 'til my very own death on my face I can feel the falling rain never see my friends again in the smoke, in the mud and lead smell of fear and feeling of dread soon be time to go over the wall rapid fire and the end of us all

Whistles, shouts and more gun fire lifeless bodies hang on barbwire battlefield nothing but a bloody tomb be reunited with my dead friends soon many soldiers eighteen years drown in mud, no more tears surely a war no one can win killing time about to begin

Home, far away. From the war, a chance to live again Home, far away. But the war, no chance to live again

The bodies of ours and our foes the sea of death it overflows in no man's land God only knows into jaws of death we go...

Crucified as if on a cross allied troops, they mourn their loss German war propaganda machine such before has never been seen swear I heard the angels cry pray to God no more may die so that people know the truth tell the tale of Paschendale

Cruelty has a human heart everyman does play his part terror of the men we kill the human heart is hungry still

I stand my ground for the very last time gun is ready as I stand in line nervous wait for the whistle to blow rush of blood and over we go...

Blood is falling like the rain its crimson cloak unveils again the sound of guns can't hide their shame and so we die on Paschendale

Dodging shrapnel and barbwire running straight at cannon fire running blind as I hold my breath say a prayer symphony of death as we charge the enemy lines a burst of fire and we go down I choke a cry but no one hears feel the blood go down my throat

Home, far away. From the war, a chance to live again Home, far away. But the war, no chance to live again Home, far away. From the war, a chance to live again Home, far away. But the war, no chance to live again

See my spirit on the wind across the lines beyond the hill friend and foe will meet again those who died at Paschendale