FEED THYSELF
When hunkering down in your house
Just dine on some lobster and grouse
And if you’re unable
To stock up your table
I simply don’t care. I’m a louse.
TORY ADVICE
Avoid seeming stony and callous
Put sweetness of heart over malice
Just toddle down straight
To your wrought-iron gate
And throw crumbs to the plebs from your palace
Yesterday I hugged my teacher,
giving her a kiss.
You might be somewhat startled
that I got away with this.
I know it’s rather odd;
the situation is, in sum:
my teacher is my teacher
but she also is my mum.
Some
Children
Unfed
Monstrously
Several
Characteristics
Undermining
Morality
Such
Callousness
Utterly
Maddening
So
Called
Useless
MPs
(Conservative Party refuses to extend free school meals into half term, despite the fact that lots of children and their families are starving. They then whinge about being called 'scum' by a Labour MP)
This Halloween is different
to the ones in years gone by.
The horrors that it has in store
will truly make you cry.
It’s full of shocking happenings
and lots of ghoulish creatures
with hearts of heinous evil
and with no redeeming features.
This Halloween is not the same
as others in the past.
The panic that it offers up
will leave you all aghast.
It’s filled with immorality
and fearful degradations.
It’s packed with total bitterness
and dark prognostications.
This Halloween, however,
you don’t need to leave your home.
To get a taste of terror
you are not required to roam.
To give yourself the jitters
and a dosage of the blues
just sit down at the table
and then open up the news.
Greet each new day
the way your cat greets you
when you walk in from work.
For when you left
she had no idea
you’d return;
in her limited mind
each of your departures
could have been your last.
So greet each new day
the way your cat greets you
when you walk through that door:
a gentle smile,
a flick of the tail
and carry on.
I’m waiting for my darling
while she goes and sits her test.
She’s spent all year preparing
and I hope she does her best.
She’s always been my baby
and my nerves are getting frayed.
I really hope she passes.
I’ve petitioned and I’ve prayed.
I’m trying to be mindful,
yes I’m trying to keep cool.
I hope that she will do me proud
and not end up a fool.
They told me when I left her
she’d be done by half past three...
I can’t stand waiting for my car
to have its MOT.
Blue by Beatrix, Year 5
I’m blue
Right now i’m surfing but
when I feel dumb I can be ink in school
uniform and learn algebra and comprehension
When I feel dangerous I can turn into
a huge wave or rain and
flood a city in five minutes
When things seem blurry
I can go into a new born child
and see the world better
When I feel crazy I can turn into
a rock star’s dyed hair or their guitar
When I feel calm
I could make a flower bloom
When I feel tense I turn into
a yoga mat and watch people
do amazing things
If I want to see everyone I go to the sky
When I need energy I go to a river
I feel power sometimes
and when the day is up
I go with the other colours
to watch the sun set.
THINGS YOU CAN’T WRITE CODE FOR
The flight of the notes as the orchestra starts
The way that a painting grabs hold of your heart
The words in the novel that make you feel seen
The gasp in your lungs as you're hooked by the screen
The tears in your eyes as you hear the song
The darers and dreamers that help you belong
The years that you give to achieving your goal
The feeling as life slips beyond your control
The anger and fear when they don’t understand
and simply expect a reboot and rebrand
For it’s no use to merely keep us alive
unless we have something to help our souls thrive.
The poet retrained as a carpenter
but his words became wooden
The poet retrained as a gardener
but his verses wouldn’t bloom
The poet retained as an athlete
but he couldn’t run with it
The poet retrained as a pilot
but the idea wouldn’t fly
The poet retrained as a train driver
but he went off the rails
The poet retrained as a banker
but was left counting the cost
The poet retrained as a grave worker
but he couldn't dig it
So the poet retrained as a politician
and became a wanker.
A world with no art
Is a world with no colour
A world with no art
Is a world with no soul
A world with no art
Is a world with no feeling
A world with no art
Is a world that’s not whole
A world with no art
Is a world with no vision
A world with no art
Is a world with no breath
A world with no art
Is a world that’s not living
A world with no art
Is a place of pure death
A world with no art
Is a world with no meaning
A world with no art
Is a world that is lost
A world with no art
Is a world with no dreaming
A world with no art
Is left counting the cost
A world with no art
Is a world packed with numbers
A world with no art’s
Full of robots in suits
A world with no art
Is a world with no future
A world with no art
Has forgotten its roots
I was delighted when Rachel Maynard, the fabulous Year 5 teacher at Woodcroft Primary School in north London, got in touch to say that her class had been working on animal poems inspired by my poem 'Little Lemur Laughing', the title piece of my second book with Bloomsbury. This poem uses repetition and alliteration to bring animals to life, and I am so excited to be able to share a selection of Year 5's fabulous poetry. I can tell that these pupils worked really hard on editing, perfecting and also decorating their poems, and I'm sure you'll agree that they should be very proud of themselves!
A SMALL FAVOUR
Consider the poet.
Her mind doesn’t work
quite the same as normal people.
Standing under the shower
she tries to catch metaphors
in the molten droplets.
As she stares out of the train window
the horizon to her
is a lilting string of words.
Needless to say
she doesn’t do this for the money,
but just like everyone else
stanzas alone won’t fill her belly.
Just a small sum
will help purchase her latest book.
A slightly bigger contribution
will enable a short visit
to your school or institution.
Dig a little deeper and
she could even be yours to keep.
For remember:
a poet is for life,
not just for National Poetry Day.
