Wednesday, 30 May 2012

The Resilience by Scott Jones





Machine guns firing, the bullets are coming.

Bang! Bang! Bang! The noise is stunning!
The men storm on through all the terror,
Until a bomb goes off - an enormous tremor.

Bloodshot eyes; tired, tired men.
"Keep going, boys! It’s almost the end."
The war is over, the combat finally done,
The blood trickles into the ocean, under a blazing sun.

The way this poem has a bit of a performance style is that it has repetition in the words ‘Bang! Bang! Bang!’ and ‘tired, tired men.’  It also suggests sounds with ‘Machine guns firing’ and ‘A bomb goes off - an enormous tremor'.  The colour I chose to use in the poem is red as it is seen in  'bloodshot eyes' and the blood of the soldiers.



THEM by Latasha Wade




This poem is set in the present day. I have used the colour grey to run through the poem. This colour suits the poem because of the way the persona's life is bleak (no colour). This poem expresses the feelings of the bullied and provides an insight into what their lives are like; the fear of knowing what’s going to happen. I wrote this poem because many people can relate to it. The speech at the end gives this poem a performance element and this could be portrayed as dramatic. I used a wordle from another poem as inspiration.

They are waiting around the corner.
She knows they are:
Down that cold, dark, grey alley,
Waiting for her,                                                                                       

As she walks past, they walk out,
They follow her... just following... like they always do,
She knows what comes next: the names, the threats and the pain,
But they make her wait for it; she looks up at the grey sky and she feels trapped,

As she walks up to the school gates, she knows they’re still there,
She can still hear the crunch of the gravel under their shoes,
She stops still in front of the school and she hears the words,
“Hey, you”.  This is when it begins...

Tuesday, 8 May 2012

Slave Ship by Jess Layton


Heads bowed, walking, walking.
Sense of terror, sense of horror.
Blood on my hands and blood on the floor.

Ship is rocking, rocking.
Don’t cry, don’t notice my degradation.
Panic and scrambling, self preservation.

People are shouting, screaming
Starving hungry, surrounded by death.
All I see is red.

My poem is from the point of view of a slave on a slave ship. It is based on some of  the language from an extract from the war poem, Auschwitz by Elizabeth Weyser. It is quite repetetive to create a tense, shocking atmosphere. The colour red runs through the poem with the idea of blood, danger and death.

Waving Goodbye by Georgina Buckland


The thundering roar struck my ear,
That’s when I knew the end was here.
So, now, me and my family must forever part,
And split in two is my heart.
As at that point, that’s when I knew,
My life would soon be fully blue.

I always hoped that I’d leave Earth,
Along with my whole lives worth.
But now MUST be my time to die,
So to my life, I’ll wave goodbye.

I’ll try to think of something more,
Than just the blue creeping door to door,
Are my feet still there - I can’t feel...
Now, this is becoming dramatically real.
Closer, much closer, and finally here,
So overwhelming. So cold I forgot the fear.

I won’t struggle, I won’t fight,
As I think my time is right.
I’ll keep my eyes shut but I won’t pretend,
That I don’t know this is the end.

Screams, shouts, gasps for breath,
Calls, tears, and finally death. . . NO GOING BACK.

My poem has the colour blue running through it as it represents the colour of the ice cold sea that eventually sank the Titanic. I am writing as a person on the Titanic who believes it may be their time to die. I wrote the poem as to set a sad, fearful atmosphere and I believe that it has been successful. I made my poem rhyme as I think it sets the scene and makes it more interesting. I was inspired by the wordle that I made and also the actual story of the Titanic.

Friday, 4 May 2012

The Forgotten South by Georgina Jeremiah


The wind burnt branches sway in the South.
Why won’t rain fill in the desert lands mouth?

The deeply tanned children drag their worked feet.
Whilst the river flows far but the children never meet.

The mud huts protect them from the noises in the night.
Why can’t someone help them with sympathetic sight?

The innocent children have terror of realisation.
That they may never gain help from their Northerly nation…

In this poem I have conveyed performance with a call and response, one line is read and then a rhetorical question is asked by another speaker. In the next verse, the same technique is used but no question is asked in the second line. However, the poem returns to normal by the third verse and this pattern repeats itself. I have displayed the colour theme of brown as in each first line an object is used to represent that colour, apart from the first line in the last stanza where the overall idea is shown. My poem questions the thoughts of the reader when asking rhetorical questions and it connects emotionally, making the reader feel guilty but appreciate that they live a rich life or at a standard better than the one shown in the poem. I have used a rhyming technique which causes the poem to flow.  The overall idea of my poem is that children in Africa are deprived of food and water and no other country is willing to help them, they feel alone and frightened of what might be out in the bare plain lands, repetition is used with the rhetorical questions which keeps refreshing the readers mind that something could be done to change the situation.

Thursday, 3 May 2012

Living in the Slums by Sophie Rees



The children assemble, waiting for the truck,


Scrambling over rubbish, hoping for luck,


The timeless minutes waiting for their fate,


It’s been hours and days since the children last ate;





They hear the truck not far away,


The children stand silent with nothing to say,


The rubbish arrives and they all start to run,


Flesh on flesh in the hot, burning sun;




The realisation that there’s nothing to eat,


Just scraps and bones without any meat,


Their final actions as they start to walk back,


Back to their homes with an empty sack.

I thought of this setting for the poem when I looked at the words ‘flesh on flesh’ and ‘waiting for their fate’ from 'Auschwitz' by Elizabeth Wyser. They made me think of the children fighting in the rubbish just to find little scraps of food for their families. I put in the idea of a red colour running through my poem as the hot sun and the flesh made me think of that colour. I put a performance element into the poem by suggesting sounds like the sound of the truck and the absolute silence of the children waiting for the rubbish truck.  

Wednesday, 2 May 2012

The Voice of Conflict

Extracts from AUSCHWITZ by Elizabeth Wyser


"My God!... They're locking those bloody great doors!
Why?...It can't be!"

"All eyes watching, wondering.
No sound."

"Gas!  Gas!  Gas!  Panic!"

"Flesh on flesh - clutching and tearing.
Gas, screams, death...silence."


The voices in  this poem are truly poignant; they express the confusion, panic and terror that must have been present in this horrific moment.  'Auschwhitz' lends itself to performance and dramatisation by suggesting emotion in the language used.....

cReAtE!

Create a WORDLE!
A 'Word Doodle'...

Pick two lines from a poem you like.
Think of one word that represents this each line.
Write these down.

Pick three words/ phrases from your chosen poem.
Write these down.

Voila! You have a WORDLE!

Use it to inspire your next poetic creation!