Firework Light Poems - Art/Poetry Workshop Idea for National Poetry Day 2016

National Poetry Day is on October 8th, and the theme is Light. As ever with NPD, this is a very broad theme, and encompasses a huge variety of possibilities. Here is a very simple idea, which can be adapted for children of all ages and abilities. What follows is the broad outline; feel free to add, subtract and alter according to who you are working with.

Step One

Play a game with the pupils. Name a colour, and give them a set amount of time to list as many things as they can that have that colour. So for example, you might say 'green', and pupils might write 'frog; grass; tree; snot, etc. If you are into gamification, you might make this activity into a competition.

Step Two

Use some of the ideas generated in the previous activity to model some similes for the class, e.g.: 'as green as a....', 'as red as a.....'. Use this as an opportunity to discuss which are the best ideas, and how to make the similes more interesting/exciting.

Step Three

give out lots of sheets of coloured paper - as many different colours as possible placed on each table. Children can write colour-based similes on the sheets of paper, according to which colour paper they have been given.

Step Four

Share my poem 'Fireworks', below. In groups, children cut out the similes, and stick them onto a black backdrop, so as to form the shape of a firework in the night sky. They can then practice performing the pieces, and you have some lovely collaborative shape poems to display.

Fireworks

A dash of red

A splash of blue

A splodge of green

and a twinkle of gold.

A streak of white

A stripe of pink

A smear of yellow

and a sparkle of silver.

Somewhere, a happy child

is flicking paint

across the sky.

Exciting news - MA dissertation complete, and poetry books forthcoming!

Hello people, and welcome to the first blog post of the new school term. I have been somewhat lax in updating this blog, the main reason being simple laziness. However, there are two rather more salubrious reasons for my lack of blogging: (a) I have been working on two children's poetry collections, for which I have rather excitingly been offered a contract by Bloomsbury (of Harry Potter fame), and (b) I have been completing my MA dissertation.

Since 2014 I have been combining my day job (visiting schools) with studying on the new Writer/Teacher MA at Goldsmiths. I have been doing modules across the English and Education departments, and have turned my attention, amongst other things, to short story writing, an academic study of the state of contemporary American children's poetry, and a qualitative analysis of the impact of poets' roles in schools. My dissertation was supervised by Stephen Knight, and is a collection of poems intended for an adult audience, along with a critical commentary. I am pleased to say I handed it in today. Unlike my children's poetry, I've no idea whether much (or any) of it comes up to a publishable standard. Here is a poem from the collection. Enjoy!

David

I never knew him. He died

of lung cancer before I was born.

He was an alcoholic too.

He passed all the exams

at medical school, but not

in the correct order, so he never

qualified as a doctor.

His wife never knew this.

He used to get up early

every morning, put on a suit,

say goodbye, and wander the streets

before going home at night.

Meanwhile his wife would sit inside,

unstitching the labels

on his Marks and Spencer jumpers

and sewing Harrods ones

in their place. She’d listen

for his key in the big oak door,

and when he returned,

without a word, they’d put

on a record and dance a dance,

the same one every night.  

PERSONIFICATION - poem & workshop idea (KS2)

Flag

 

I’m
very tall. My head is high. My
lips reach out to kiss the sky.
My ears can hear for miles
around. I stand one-legged
o
n
t
h
e
g
r
o
u
n
d

 

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

 

Using the poem above as a model, ask children to think of an inanimate object. Examples include: tree, car, train, house, etc. Next, they need to list different parts of a human body (head, hands, arms, legs, etc.) Finally, they need to reimagine their inanimate object as though it possesses these human body parts, and think about what each of these parts may do. For example:

 

The windows of the house are eyes, peering out at passers by

The chimney is a tongue, tasting the flavour of the summer sky

The door is the heart, ready to let family in...

 

For an optional extra, they could rewrite their piece as a shape poem, as above!

 

 

Maths Poetry With Year 7

Over the last few weeks I have been teaching maths lessons. Having not studied maths for well over a decade this was a fairly daunting proposition. However, these were no ordinary maths lessons. The aim of the lessons was to incorporate poetry, and to explore the ways in which mathematical language and concepts can be used in order creatively to explore issues of personal identity. I would like to present a selection of poems produced by girls in Year 7. I supplied some templates in order to inspire them, but the students were very much encouraged to use their imaginations and go wherever they want with their ideas.

Equation Poem by Farzana 7P

Blue + Yellow = a blooming flower

Me – You = an abandoned soul silently drowning in a sky of grey

Dog + Cat = screeches of hate

Teacher + Failed homework = clammy hands and beating heart

Love x Emptiness = a calamity caused by untouched feelings

Summing Me Up by Khadija 7L

The inverse of me is a Business Assistant

A fraction of me is talking nonstop

If I was a shape I would be a circle, because a circle doesn’t end, so for me that means I can talk nonstop!

If I was rounded up I would be the youngest mayor of Newham

If I was rounded down I would be the most arrogant and unsuccessful person

If I was the colour white then my grandma would be the colour black because our opinions don’t match.

Summing Me Up by Sathana 7P

Me + sister = enemies

Me – Chinese takeaway = nothing

Me x twelve = me

Me + vanilla cheesecake = heaven

Me = getting whatever I want = OMG

Me – sister = friends

Me + Chinese takeaway = something important

Me – vanilla cheesecake = hell

Me ÷ 12 = foetus

Me – getting whatever I want = what on earth is going on?!

(Special mention must also go to Thanha in 7L, who came up with the line “the probability of me and maths being good friends is just as likely as a zombie apocalypse happening in 5 minutes time.”

Year 4 Students Win Poetry Slam

I am delighted to report that the group of Year 4 students with whom I recently worked at St John's Walham Green Primary School, Fulham, won 'Best Performance' at the Verse vs Verse poetry slam, organised by Eastside Educational Trust. They should be very proud of themselves! Here is their fantastic poem:

 

A Piece of Respect St Johns

 

Be respectful, don’t bully

Be respectful, don’t be silly!

It’s not good, it’s not nice

So don’t even dare to roll the dice!

I am a victim, you spit in my face

Being a big disgrace

Punching my belly whilst I eat jelly

Punching my nose, kicking my toes

I don’t like this at all!

Chorus

I am a bully, I don’t care

I’m being mean and pulling hair

I am a bully, you can’t stop me

‘Cause I’m everywhere don’t you see?

I am a bully, I enjoy what I do

I’ve got my target and today it’s you!

Chorus

What are you doing? Don’t do that!

You know why and I’ll tell you that

It’s not nice to be mean

It’s not nice to be rude

It’s not nice to punch and slap

It’s not nice to kick or imitate

It’s not nice to be a bully

Because people will get quite upset! 

Chorus

Well if you won’t listen

You’ll have problems in life

You’re really annoying and ruining my life

It doesn’t matter ‘cause I don’t care

Shut up or I’ll get my knife! 

Chorus

New Poetry Form - The Big Boss

I may have invented a new poetic form. It may have been used by other poets, but I can't recall seeing it anywhere else. It certainly seems a bit too good for me to have stumbled upon it all by myself, but I thought I'd codify it here in this blog post, so other poets can have a go at doing it too. I call it 'The Big Boss', because, well, it's my form, and I can call it what I like. It goes like this:

• 4 stanzas, 7 lines in each stanza
• 4 syllables in the first six lines of each stanza, and 6 syllables in the final line
• rhyme scheme is ABCBDBE, FGHGIGE, JKLKMKE, NOPOQOE.

Here are a couple of examples of Big Boss Poems. See if you can give it a go yourself (you can adjust the syllable count in some lines in order to maintain a consistent beat). I've found it to be a very effective technique when writing for younger children.

Tell it to the Dog

If you have had

an awful day

and all your woes

won’t go away

and no one wants

to come and play,

just tell it to the dog.

If everybody

picks on you

and all your plans

have fallen through;

if you feel lonely,

sad and blue,

just tell it to the dog.

They do not judge.

They understand.

They rub your leg.

They lick your hand.

If you feel lost

in no-man’s land

just tell it to the dog.

They keep your secrets

safe within.

They don’t care if

you lose or win.

So turn that frown

into a grin

and tell it to the dog!

 

The Day the Poet Came

The windows burped,

the hamster flew,

the walls spun round,

the grass turned blue,

things happened that

we never knew

the day the poet came.

 

The sky fell in,

the clouds dispersed,

the devils smiled,

the angels cursed,

the world inhaled,

began to burst

the day the poet came.

 

My desk became

a sailing boat,

an oak tree grew

inside my coat,

my friend got married

to a goat

the day the poet came.

 

The carpet turned

into a bath,

I think I saw

a pink giraffe,

but the strangest thing:

our teacher laughed

the day the poet came!

A Poem about Death

If Only

people spoke of the living

like they speak of the dead.

Just imagine:

people would go around declaring

how wonderful everyone else is;

how kind they are;

how, in spite perhaps

of outward appearances,

their hearts are made of gold.

People would cherish urns

of dandruff and nail clippings;

forgive each other almost anything;

treat each bad word as sacrilege.

Everyone would go out of their way

to attend the birthday parties

of distant relatives, declaiming it

“the right thing to do.”

Just think:

living itself would become an achievement.

The news would be a rolling dispatch

of everyone who made it through the day,

and when they died

we’d realise

that they weren’t that great anyway.