NEW POEM: MY PURPOSE

MY PURPOSE

After Gary Larson 

Yesterday I found my purpose.

It was down the back of the sofa. 

Not as big as I’d remembered,

it was covered in some kind of fluff.

I found it alongside a couple of pencils

and a foreign coin. 

I brushed it off, and held my purpose

in the palm of my hand. 

Wasn’t much to write home about.

I put it on the mantelpiece 

with my old Ian Fleming novels

and my third-place prize from that

poetry competition in 1998.

Now I sit staring at my purpose,

the one I’d never given

much thought to. 

Might put it in the attic for a while;

the cat is bound to knock it

off the shelf.

A Poem in praise of Teaching Assistants

TA

Teaching

Assistant 

Totally

Amazing

Terrifically

Awesome

Terribly

Affable

Tangibly 

Astounding 

Time to 

Appreciate

Thanks 

A million

Ta!

(teaching assistants 'unsung heroes' on the pandemic - Guardian)

MORE STUNNING 'EMOTIONS' POEMS FROM PGHS

I mentioned in a blog post last week that I had recently visited Palmers Green High School which, in spite of the name, includes younger pupils too. I was delighted in that post to share some fantastic poems from Year 3. Ms. Conlon, the wonderful librarian, has just sent me some more poems, this time produced by Year 4 during my workshop. I am really excited to be able to share them in this blog post. I hope you enjoy them as much as I did, and can appreciate the development and complexity of ideas when compared to the (equally fantastic) Year 3 poems. Check em out!

PONKY WOEM

I’m just a ponky woem

in a bonky little wook. 

I know you sink it’s thilly

but just lome and have a cook.

My bords are rather wackwards

and my stread is not on haight.

Yes mome sight steem me dupid

but en thothers gray I’m seat.

Ly mexicon jis umbled.

Ly metters are askew. 

I know you wink I’m theird

but I’m gather rripping too. 

I save to hay crime azy 

and against all tommon caste. 

I’m just a ponky woem

and sy mense bas heen plismaced.

A POEM ABOUT POETRY ABOUT POETRY

A great authority

whom I like and admire

once said that all poets

are only ever allowed to write

one poem about poetry.

Any more, I suppose,

would be too much of a cop out

or too slyly self-referential

or perhaps simply

too easy. 

I’m not sure

how I feel

about that.

#NationalSomethingDay

Dust off your thingummy!

Grab that doohickey!

Diddle your doodad - 

it’s not very tricky.

Give us a cheer

and holler ‘Hooray!’

It’s #NationalSomethingDay

Go and recover

your thingamajig!

Your whatnot is in

for a wonderful gig!

slap on a smile

and don’t feel grey!

It’s #NationalSomethingDay

So gather your gismos 

and wangle your whatsit!

Muster your kit

from the back of your closet!

Those whatjamacallits 

are here to stay!

It’s #NationalSomethingDay

EMOTION POEMS FROM YEAR 3, PGHS

Last week I did some workshops with Palmers Green High School. This was the third year in a row I have worked at the school, and I am always impressed with the quality of writing they produce. Their fantastic librarian, Mrs. Conlon, recently sent me a selection of worked produced by Year 3 (despite the name, PGHS has primary school pupils too). Here are three wonderful poems, each focused around a different emotion. Enjoy!