A HIERARCHY OF TERROR (poem + writing idea)

1. Failing my science exam

2. Going to the dentist

3. Making mistakes when I write lists

5. Mutant guinea pigs

6. Empty spaces

7. 

8. Getting lost in a forest at night (with bears)

9. Being forced to swim naked in the crater of a bubbling volcano

10. Growing up.

(why not create your own 'hierarchy of terror'...)

NEW POEM: 'A VOW'

SHADOW

It follows me

and yet it’s not a part of me. 

It does the things I do

and yet remains

a darker hue. 

What is this thing

that stretches and contorts

and shapes itself

to my movements,

that seems to know me

so intimately?

Who is this spectre

that wraps around

my presence

like a whisper?

Shadow — I would love

to get to know you

but when I reach for you

you somehow slide away

ethereally 

like the final note

of some escaping melody.

BRAGGING RIGHTS

My darling is a genius.

She taught herself to read.

She also plays the violin

and swims at super speed.

She’s quite the whizz at ballet

and she’s excellent at chess.

When asked about her aptitude

one has to acquiesce. 

She knows her Dickens off by heart.

She cooks delicious food.

With high degrees of giftedness

my girl has been imbued.

She’s got the knack for algebra

though she is only three.

My darling is a genius.

She sure takes after me.

MY SECRET IS

the burning globe inside my chest

the eagle chick without a nest

the dagger poised above my head

the centipede beneath the bed

The paw prints of some distant bear

the creaking of a rocking chair

the cackle heard across the plain

the twisting of a dusty lane

the nameless baby in a well

the thing that I can never tell

NAUGHTY TORY - POEM FOR CHARLIE ELPHICKE

The country’s in a bloody mess

I’ll privatise the NHS

Then take a peek inside your dress

Cos I’m a Naughty Tory.

I’ll kick the scroungers to the curb

What’s wrong, my dear? You seem perturbed

Your cleavage does look quite superb!
Yes I’m a Naughty Tory.

I’ll lower taxes for my chums

Then toss the needy scraps and crumbs

And when I’m done I’ll pinch your bum

Cos I’m a Naughty Tory. 

“I’m quite the cad”, I’ll leer and quip

Now don’t you dare avoid my grip

See I’ve a governmental whip

WH-CHHHHHHH!

I’m such a Naughty Tory.

Conservative MP Charlie Elphicke has been accused of sexual assault, on one occasion chasing a young woman round the kitchen table whilst singing "I'm a naughty Tory"

THE TEN BEST THINGS ABOUT NONSENSE POETRY

1. The hippo's blue tongue

2. Mongolian wedding ceremony

3. Liger? What liger?

4. Yab yab yab yab yab yab

5. My very lazy uncles

6. Gyrating miniature monster truck

7. TOWELS!!!!!!!

8. Snargle snargle

9. Rotund

NAMES

If you love something

give it a name. 

Think of Bluebell curled up on the couch. 

Compare her with

the millions of nameless beasts

scavenging through bins

in sprawling cities. 

Consider the difference:

she is loved; they’re not. 

Imagine further a world

where people have no names.

Flitting anonymously

through lives of nothing,

no memory holds them

when they’re gone. 

It doesn’t matter which name you choose.

You can call your cat Mavis,

or your car Abdul,

or your ballet dress Butch.

You could even call your first kiss Lorraine,

because things that are cherished

need a name. 

I hereby christen this poem

Malcolm.

LOVE LETTER TO KAREN

POEMS ON THEME OF 'HAPPINESS', FROM ST BARTHOLOMEW'S PRIMARY, LEWISHAM

I was honoured when Daniel Meyer, Assistant Head at St Bartholomew's Primary School in Lewisham, London, recently got in touch with me to ask if I would edit a poetry anthology that the school were putting together during lockdown. The theme of the anthology is 'Happiness', and it was such a joy to read a whole litany of poems which interpreted the theme with such variety and vivacity. I would like to share on my blog a selection of fantastic poems. These poems are not necessarily 'the best' (whatever that means); they are simply poems that captured my thoughts as I was reading through the two hundred or so poems that I was sent. I hope you enjoy them as much as I did, and I'm sure you'll agree that the young poets should be very proud of themselves!

Hazel’s Happiness by Hazel, Reception

Mummy-cuddling

Unicorn-drawing

Football-kicking

Den-making

Daddy-climbing 

Rainbow-experimenting

Toy-bossing

Toenail-painting

Gingerbread-baking

Gramms-storytelling

Duvet-snuggling

Dream-remembering

Rainbow By Xanthe Yr 5

Your eyes are like woods,

woods that I get lost in

every time I look into them.

they make me feel lost and curious.

I dare to walk into them every time.

Your smile, even the sun

can’t stand that glisten. 

You make me feel wanted.

You are at the end

of my rainbow.

What Makes Me Happy? By Elsie Yr 3

When I am painting it makes me happy

I enjoy the moment

I can hear the paintbrush on the paper

Swishing, swirling, twirling and curling

I see the paintbrush therapeutically going on the page

Making a beautiful artwork of paint.

Sometimes I get frustrated, but I persevere

When I’m painting I’m happy,

I don’t paint it when I’m sad,

I paint at the right moment

When the frustration is over and I’m finished,

I’m really proud and glad I persevered.

Don’t be afraid to show your emotions 

Art is always there for you and you will always cherish it.

It’s a moment in this crazy time, 

that will always be in your memory box

You’ll never forget - it’s one of those special moments

that will never die                                                         

When I am finished I am ever so proud,

it makes me joyful and happy.

The Strawberry Bigger Than The Sun by Elias, Reception

I am thinking of a strawberry bigger than the sun

Do you think eating this would be fun?

It will fill my tummy and yours

And yours and yours

And yours

If you bite into it

It will splash you not a bit

But a lot

And all of its seed

Will feed

A lot

Let’s all think of a strawberry bigger than the sun

If we all think really hard maybe it will come?

A Cartwheel By Emily Yr 5

Put your hands down and spin around
Feel like you’re never going to touch the ground
Feet on the floor without a sound
What makes me happy?
A cartwheel.

They give you a wonderful feeling
Though your hands may start to ache
But they will get on with the healing
And you can do more when you awake.
What makes me happy?
A cartwheel.

I like to do them in a line
I should feel dizzy
but I feel fine.
What makes me happy?
A cartwheel.

Fire By Theodore Yr 2

Burning fire – Flaming hot;

Smoking up the chimney pot,

Warming up the coldest days,

The red and yellow sparks ablaze.

Barbeque – Juicy smells rise,

I lick my lips and await the surprise;

Marshmallows toasted – OUCH! my mouth burns,

But I still want another – for sugar I yearn.

Candles on cakes glow as I blow;

Happy Birthday! They cheer,

as sparkles fly near;

But beware! My dear children - there’s

one thing we know;

FIRE!  Can burn us – if given the chance,

Stand back, be careful, don’t play near the flames,

It’s lovely to look at – but cannot be tamed.

HELP US TO SAVE LIVE COMEDY

SAVE LIVE COMEDY

In dingy rooms on top of pubs,

on rainy nights in basement clubs,

in tented fields and rural hubs —

a laugh can soothe the soul.

At midnight, drunk and packed in rows,

at open mics and five-star shows,

with amateurs or seasoned pros —

a chuckle makes us whole.

When hopeful blokes get gonged off stage,

when ranting poets spit with rage,

when jesters test our pressure gauge

and leave us wanting more,

it sprinkles life with seasoning

and gets our lungs to leap and sing;

such times as these can be the thing

to touch us at our core.

The slickest acts who wield their wit,

the group with their pretentious skit,

the callow youth who’s rather… untalented,

the old-school and the woke;

we face a new reality

of worry and uncertainty

so help us save live comedy.

For once, it’s not a joke.

.....................................................................................

Live comedy has seen me through some dark times. I first discovered it aged eighteen, on my unplanned gap year, at the Comedy Store in London. I first gave it a go myself a few years later, and whilst my tenure as a performer has been somewhat sporadic, it is still true to say that, of all art forms, I probably enjoy the experience of live comedy the most. It is now under threat as a result of the lockdown, and it is vital that we do all we can to preserve this special art form. Please visit www.savelivecomedy.co.uk to find out how you could help!

BAD RECEPTION

They answer the phone

with a shrug and a grunt.

You ask them a question,

they’re brittle and blunt.

The doc’s round the back,

they’re the one at the front —

The Receptionist at the GP.

They treat every patient

as though they’re a foe.

They keep people waiting.

Whenever you go

to reserve an appointment

they cough and say “no” —

The Receptionist at the GP.

In being bad tempered

they’ve won an award.

They sit on their throne

looking surly and bored.

They guard their domain

with a sceptre and sword —

The Receptionist at the GP. 

You need something quickly?

You’re sure out of luck,

no matter the lurgy 

with which you’ve been struck.

Put rather succinctly, 

they don’t give a….

The Receptionist at the GP.