Chat to the cat
about this and that.
Pass the time of day.
She’ll not disclose your secrets
but she’ll absorb
every word you say.
Confess to the cat
your worries.
Confide in the cat
you may
for she’ll disappear
when she’s heard enough
and perhaps ferry your fears,
maybe transport your tears,
possibly carry your cares
away.
I’ve recorded a poem today and Karen has turned it into a video. Hope you like it. Please share and don’t forget National Poetry Day on Thursday 2nd October.
You know it’s going to be a good day when a member of staff arrives just after you with a homemade cake. And it was good. The day and the cake.
Thanks to everyone at Airy Hill CP School, Whitby, for giving me such a warm welcome on Thursday and for contributing to a very rewarding and creative day. I started off by performing to the whole school and then worked with Yr1 and Yr2 where we did class poems. Each class did their own version of my poem “I Like What I Like“. I visited all classes during the day and we gathered in the hall to hear a selection of new poems before school ended.
The poem photographed below, based on “Stig of the Dump“, was written by Year 4/5W, their teacher and myself. I played some music on guitar and said I needed some words to go with it, and this is what they came up with:
I’ve posted some other reminders and resources for National Poetry Day already, but here’s video that may inspire ideas and discussion.
Do you remember
when summers were longer
and ice creams were bigger
and creamier
and the sun rose like a messiah
and cast his love over the land
and all his worshippers turned pink
to show that they had been blessed
(for who, all that time ago,
although they knew not to look directly at him,
would want to shield themselves from him or think
to use sun block – which probably hadn’t been invented –
for who, I say unto you, would have imagined
that such a mighty being
would ever do them any harm)?
Thus his faithful followers
lay down before him
day after day
again and again
for ever and ever, Amen.
This poem previously appeared on blipfoto.
UK National Poetry Day is a nationwide celebration of poetry that has been held on the first Thursday in October since 1994. The next National Poetry Day is Thursday 2nd October 2014. Every year the organisers suggest a theme to inspire events and contributions, and this year’s is Remember. Share your poems for the event via Twitter and Facebook with the hashtag #nationalpoetryday or post them on the National Poetry Day Facebook page and follow the Twitter account to see what other people are doing. For more information about the day see the National Poetry Day Website.
Naturally this is a busy day for performance poets who work in schools, so it is worth booking early to avoid disappointment, and also having some flexibility around the day, perhaps having a poetry inspired week. If you would like me to visit your school, please contact me. This post will give you an idea of what a day in your school could be like.
Here’s one of mine on the Remember theme:
We never could remember
how to spell diarrhoea.
It was easier to invoke
a chill or an upset stomach
than to search for a dictionary.
But it didn’t matter
what my mother wrote
as long as her note
excused me from football
or rugby or cross-country.
Finally I openly rebelled
and raised a two-finger V
in time to be recorded for posterity
on the annual school photograph:
a brief yet permanent moment
of glory and defiance;
it went unnoticed for months
and prints were sold.
When parents eventually complained
I was caned and, unceremoniously, expelled.
This poem has previously appeared on blipfoto.
Not wishing to alienate anyone, to balance my previous post, here is an anti-football poem.
Please make it stop
(Yes, I’m in a huff!)
It’s hardly got started
And I’ve had enough.
People are driving around
With flags on their cars.
It’s all over the TV
And blasting out from bars.
Someone has just told me
That it lasts for a month.
That’s bad news.
Grrr! Snarl! Humpf!
I’ve caught football fever
Now I’m football mad
Football’s taken over
I’ve got football bad
Yes, I’ve got football fever
I thought I was immune
But I’m not sick as a parrot
Instead I’m over the moon
So I don’t need a doctor
I don’t need a pill
I’m not feeling awful
I’m not really ill
I’ve just got football fever
I’ve just gone football mad
I’m as crazy as my sister
As barmy as my Dad
We’ve all got football fever
Each one did succumb
But if you think we’ve got it bad
Wait till you meet Mum!
This poem is in my book “Brilliant“. If you are looking for other football poems, there’s a collection of poems with the same title as this in my anthologies section.
Does the odour
of last night’s
fish supper linger?
Have you got an itch?
The human touch?
Is that what you long for?
What can you smell?
Who are you singing
your purring song for?
Never mind. Every cloud has a silver lining…
Your walks on the beach are over.
Your footprints will be washed away.
Tuesday will feel like a Monday.
But…….it’s only a four day week. Hurray!
Bernard Young Poet 