Kay+Ryan

Ryan was born in San Jose California on September 27, 1945 and grew up in the San Joaquin Valley and Mojave Desert. She graduated from the University of California, Los Angeles with a Bachelor's and Master's Degree. Her profession for more than 30 years was part-time teaching remedial English at the College of Marin in Kentfield, California. When she's relaxing from her job, she enjoys mouuntain bike riding and freeing her mind by going on relxing strolls. || **//Works Cited://**
 * [[image:kay_ryan_0718.jpg width="255" height="245"]] || //**About Kay Ryan: **//

Websites

"Kay Ryan (1945-) Biography". Poetry Foundation. March 2, 2010 []. "About the Poet Laureate". Library of Congress. March 3, 2010 []. "Google Images". Google. March 5, 2010 [].

Books

Ryan, Kay. __The Niagra River__. Canada: Grove Press, 2005. Ryan, Kay. __Say Uncle__. Canada: Grove Press, 2005. ||  || Flamingo Watching The Niagra River Say Uncle Strangely Marked Metal Dragon Acts to Dragon Ends Elephant Rocks Believe it or Not || ** Hide and Seek ** to jump out instead of waiting to be found. It’s hard to be alone so long and then hear someone come around. It’s like some form of skin’s developed in the air that, rather than have torn, you tear. ** || **// Analysis: //** I think it's saying that people find it harder to do what you are supposed to do, then to break the rules. When she says "It's like some form of skin's developed in the air that rather than have torn, you tear," it means that people would rather take the easy way out. ||  || || Turtle Who would be a turtle who could help it? A barely mobile hard roll, a four-oared helmet, she can ill afford the chances she must take in rowing toward the grasses that she eats. Her track is graceless, like dragging a packing-case places, and almost any slope defeats her modest hopes. Even being practical, she's often stuck up to the axle on her way to something edible. With everything optimal, she skirts the ditch which would convert her shell into a serving dish. She lives below luck-level, never imagining some lottery will change her load of pottery to wings. Her only levity is patience, the sport of truly chastened things. || **// Analysis: //** The poem "Turtle" is basically saying that who would really be a turtle if they had the choice. Turtles have so many daily troubles that the human race takes for granted. This poem reveals turtles for what they really are... fighters. :) ||  || Fellowships from the National Endowment for the Arts and the Ingram Merrill Foundation The Ruth Lilly Poetry Prize
 * **// Books Written by Kay Ryan: //**
 * It’s hard not
 * [[image:http://www.copperbeechpress.com/assets/images/Flamingo_Watching__Page_Crop_.jpg width="108" height="165"]][[image:http://www.poets.org/images/media/20468_ryan.uncle.gif width="116" height="165"]]
 *  **//Some Awards Kay Ryan has won://**

|| Home to Roost The chickens are circling and blotting out the day. The sun is bright, but the chickens are in the way. Yes, the sky is dark with chickens, dense with them. They turn and then they turn again. These are the chickens you let loose one at a time and small— various breeds. Now they have come home to roost—all the same kind at the same speed. ||  **//Analysis://** I think that the chickens in the poem represent secrets. You pile up more and more secrets in your life and soon they can get in the way of you having a good time and enjoying life. They will all come back at once until you can't stand it anymore and you can just burst making everything worse. ||  ||