Gender Blending: Guess the Sex of the Poet
10 Questions I 19 Attempts I Created By davec521 1213 days agoThis is a wholly unscientific survey, meant only to satisfy my own intellectual curiosity. No matter what the results, I will not draw any real conclusions from it, and would suggest you do the same.
In the best of all possible worlds, I would use entire poems, but because of copyright considerations, I must limit the choices to lines and or stanzas.
Instructions: Read the passage and using all your powers of deduction and/or gut instinct, identify the writer of the passage as either male or female.
Enjoy.
I will publish the results in a future blog post at www.hcpl.net/Read/Poetry
In the best of all possible worlds, I would use entire poems, but because of copyright considerations, I must limit the choices to lines and or stanzas.
Instructions: Read the passage and using all your powers of deduction and/or gut instinct, identify the writer of the passage as either male or female.
Enjoy.
I will publish the results in a future blog post at www.hcpl.net/Read/Poetry
Question Excerpt From Gender Blending: Guess the Sex of the Poet
| Q.1) |
To thee, pure sprite, to thee alone’s addressed spirit This coupled work, by double int’rest thine: First raised by thy blessed hand, and what is mine Inspired by thee, thy secret power impressed. So dared my Muse with thine itself combine, As mortal stuff with that which is divine. Thy light’ning beams give luster to the rest, |
| A. |
| B. |
| Q.2) |
I, that on Sunday at the church-stile found
A garland sweet, with true-love knots in flowers,
Which I to wear about mine arm was bound,
That each of us might know that all was ours:
Must I now lead an idle life in wishes,
And follow Cupid for his loaves and fishes?
|
| A. |
| B. |
| Q.3) |
Everything contains some
silence. Noise gets
its zest from the
small shark's-tooth
shaped fragments
of rest angled
in it.
|
| A. |
| B. |
| Q.4) |
I, with a shift
of my skin, divest my self
to become the rock
that shadows it.
Think of when
your reading eyes momentarily drift,
and in that instant
|
| A. |
| B. |
| Q.5) |
How is it that you hold such influence over me:
your practiced slouch, your porkpie hat at rakish angle,
commending the dumpling-shaped lump atop your pelvis—
as if we’ve one more thing to consider amidst
the striptease of all your stanzas and all your lines—
|
| A. |
| B. |
| Q.6) |
Reader unmov’d and Reader unshaken, Reader unseduc’d
and unterrified, through the long-loud and the sweet-still
I creep toward you. Toward you, I thistle and I climb.
I crawl, Reader, servile and cervine, through this blank
season, counting—I sleep and I sleep. I sleep,
Reader, toward you, loud as a cloud and deaf, Reader, deaf
|
| A. |
| B. |
| Q.7) |
Then the gun men come and then The one in blond fox Clutching the Book of Ruin In his clean, white hands. From the barn I could see the star Of his horse as it galloped toward us. |
| A. |
| B. |
| Q.8) |
Mothers of America
let your kids go to the movies!
get them out of the house so they won’t know what you’re up to
it’s true that fresh air is good for the body
but what about the soul
|
| A. |
| B. |
| Q.9) |
A porcupine skin,
Stiff with bad tanning,
It must have ended somewhere.
Stuffed horned owl
Pompous
|
| A. |
| B. |
| Q.10) |
Can we believe—by an effort
comfort our hearts:
it is not waste all this,
not placed here in disgust,
street after street,
each patterned alike,
no grace to lighten
a single house of the hundred
crowded into one garden-space.
|
| A. |
| B. |
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