Professional children's performance poet! MA in Writing/Education and residencies at various schools. Books published by Bloomsbury. Blogging my poetry, students' work, and miscellanea. Blog posts not always child friendly. Viewing on mobile device can obscure intended layout of poems.
Saturday 31 August 2024
Wednesday 28 August 2024
For My Wife
after Michael Blumenthal
One day
the time will come
when I am able to be strong for you,
just like you’re being strong for me now.
The time will come
when I do your shopping for you,
and all the things around the house,
and wipe your tears for you,
and sit next to you holding your hand,
just like you’re doing for me now.
I promise you
I don’t take any of this for granted.
One day (I can’t say when)
the time will come
when I hold up the roof for you,
leaving you to take your arms down
to rest for a while.
Yes that time will surely come,
and it will surely be a gift.
Joshua Seigal
Sunday 25 August 2024
Catching the Flakes
Today is a waterfall of sludge.
I’m at the river’s edge
covered in mud,
a sieve in my hand.
I stand by the waterfall
trying to catch the flakes,
those tiny bits of gold that remind me
today hasn’t been all grim.
See, I wrote part of a poem;
I walked the dog –
I catch these flakes in my sieve,
letting the rest of the day’s muck
tumble on down to get washed
away by the river.
Tomorrow might be better,
I tell myself,
as I put the flakes in my bag,
dry myself off
and head softly, silently
into the night.
Joshua Seigal
Thursday 22 August 2024
Blackburn at Home
We sit in the stands
with our steaming cups of hot chocolate.
I ask if he thinks we’ll win.
He says that we definitely won’t.
I drink it all in –
the little men in the distance,
running up and down on the greenest grass I’ve ever seen;
the voice booming over the loudspeakers;
the scent of pie and beer.
He reaches into his pocket
and hands me a toffee,
the kind I’m not allowed at home.
“Don’t tell your mum”, he says.
We lose.
And there it is – my first ever football match.
A bitter winter’s evening;
a two-nil defeat
and Grandpa’s hand, so warm in mine
as we walk across the windswept park.
Joshua Seigal
Monday 19 August 2024
The Website
Every day I refresh the page to see
if my poem has gone up on the website.
Who am I kidding? I do it every hour.
More than once an hour, actually.
Probably every few minutes. Has the poem
gone up? Has the poem gone up? It hasn’t.
And I’m not sure what to do when it does.
Throw a party? Run naked down the street?
Send a link in an email to the President
of the USA? I know I’ll do none of these things.
I’ll just read the poem over a few times and
go to bed aglow with pride. And then
what? They’ve not paid me for the poem.
I’m no further out of my overdraft than I was
a day or two ago. Letters still pile up
on the mat. The mortgage is still there.
A poem on a website does not a day’s
work make. I can’t eat exposure, however
tasty it looks. See I’m hungry for words.
Feed me with your likes. Glut me with
your clicks. I’ll sell my house for your love.
Joshua Seigal
Sunday 11 August 2024
A Terrible Poem for a Terrible Person
Massive rockets
Super cars
Ego stretching
To the stars
Bloviates
From dawn til dusk
Ladies and gentlemen –
Elon Musk
Ruined Twitter
Spews his bile
Face looks wonky
Views are vile
Like a toddler
With a rusk
Ladies and gentlemen –
Elon Musk
Loads of kids
And loads of money
Thinks he’s clever
Thinks he’s funny
I’d like to slap him
With a cusk*
Ladies and gentlemen –
Elon Musk
Simps for Trump
And JD Vance
Tiny willy
In his pants
Heart of stone
And skull a husk
Ladies and gentlemen –
Elon Musk
*a type of fish
Thursday 8 August 2024
Tuesday 6 August 2024
poetry workshop idea!
If you were a radio
I’d listen to you all day.
If you were a pair of shoes
I’d walk with you everywhere.
If you were a chocolate bar
I’d savour your sweetness forever.
If you were a pillow
I’d bury my face in your softness.
If you were the stars
I’d capture the whole night sky.
If you were a cat
We’d get on purrfectly well. (Brian Moses)
If you were a camera
I’d find you wonderful scenes to capture
If you were a lawnmower
I’d give you beautiful grass to mow
If you were a china cup
I’d brew you tea as often as you wished
If you were a bed
I’d wish you the sweetest dreams (Val Harris)
If you were an umbrella
I’d sing to help it rain.
If you were a piano
We’d always live in harmony.
If you were the sun
I’d dance in your warmth. (Fiona Halliday)