Fantastic poems from Springfield Primary School

Ms Godfrey from Springfield Primary School recently got in touch to say that her pupils used my poem 'Just a Book' (which you can find on my website) as inspiration for their own poetry. I was delighted to receive a selection of poetry, which I am equally delighted to share here. Well done everyone at Springfield!!

Making Them Laugh

I hold up a picture of my cat.

This is my dog! I say.

They fall about laughing.

It’s a cat! they all shout.

No it’s not, it’s my doggy! I insist.

They think I’m the funniest person

in the world –

some kind of comic genius.

Next I hold up a mango.

Pineapple! I say.

Mango! they all shout.

Again, they fall over themselves

in fits of giggles.

Strawberry? I ask.

Mango! they repeat.

They find this hilarious.

The funniest thing ever.

After the show, backstage,

she asks if I’m OK.

I’m great! I say.

Doing really well!

But there’s no one there

to laugh at the joke.

Joshua Seigal 

Lovely poem from Owl Class, St Helen's Primary School, Cambs

I was delighted when, in the wake of World Book Day, Ms. Robertson got in touch with me to say her class, Owls, used my poem 'Icky Sticky Choccy Biccy' is inspiration for their own fantastic food poem. My poem is published in Yapping Away, and I think it is a fun one, and it evidently proved to be a good catalyst for the Owls' writing. Here is their wonderful poem. Well done Owl Class!!

a teacher gives me lovely feedback

We are now into my busiest week of the year - the week in which World Book Day occurs. As I have been doing for over a decade now, I continue to visit schools to do poetry workshops and performances, and over the last few years I have had the please to do many online sessions too. Today was just such a day; I have just completed a workshop with the wonderful writers at Wembdon School. The teacher has just sent me some lovely feedback via email, and the great thing about it is that she wrote it in the form of a poem. Even better: she clearly followed the instructions I was giving to students in their workshop, which was to write a poem about an emotion, using metaphors, repetition and alliteration. Here, then, is the delightful poem sent to me by Mrs. Garcia. Thank you so much for this, it really means the world! (PS the reference to the 'pet' is to my cat Bluebell, who always participates in my virtual sessions...)

Pete Hegseth

Pete Hegseth has twenty seven eggs for breakfast

Pete Hegseth won’t take your shit

Pete Hegseth slicks his hair back with the innards of his enemies

Pete Hegseth drinks fifty Bud Lites a day and crushes the can afterwards, without fail

Pete Hegseth gives nerds wedgies

Pete Hegseth has sired twenty seven children

Pete Hegseth has an anvil in place of a heart

Pete Hegseth didn’t start things, but he’ll finish things

Pete Hegseth will finish you

Pete Hegseth is SMASHING it

Pete Hegseth is SMASHING EVERYTHING

Pete Hegseth only drinks milk straight from the cow, then he eats the cow, raw

Pete Hegseth is a 200 pound slab of righteous fury

Pete Hegseth cries when he hears the National Anthem (but only then)

Pete Hegseth didn’t order anchovies on this shit, send it the hell back

Pete Heseth went to Harvard so f-ck you

Pete Hegseth wants the finest wines known to humanity, he wants them here and he wants them now 

Pete Hegseth crushes snails, and what you gonna do about it, four eyes?

Pete Hegseth lives for war

Pete Hegseth is war

Pete Hegseth will crunch your bones if he deigns to shake your hand

Pete Hegseth drives a Tesla tank at ten times the speed limit

Pete Hegseth slaps food out of the laps of orphans

Pete Hegseth’s is a man’s man’s man.

Pete Hegseth writes ‘ALPHA’ when asked for his pronouns

Pete Hegseth lied earlier about not crying. He cries himself to sleep most nights.

Joshua Seigal 

ROCD

I thought I loved you but I told myself

I didn’t know what love was, so how

could I be sure? And if I wasn’t sure, then

how could I say the words? Every time

I said them my ribs crushed my heart

that bit tighter, cranking it harder with every

utterance. It got to the point where I had

to tell you. Tell you that I wasn’t sure. And

even then, I wasn’t sure what to say. That

I didn’t love you? Well how could I possibly

know that? Back then there was no diagnosis

for what this was, so I couldn’t just point to

a page in a textbook. There were no sites

to direct you to, just the dust that caught

in my throat as I tried to speak. We broke up.

Of course we did. Neither of us could put up

with this for much longer. Yet that didn’t stop

me walking to your house at 5am. It was

several miles away. I should have got the bus,

but I wanted the walk. Somehow I hoped

that each step I took might knock my mind

a bit more into place. A mile or two in, I

got a text from you – from the other direction

you were on foot, making your way to me.

Joshua Seigal