That Poetry Time of Year

by Roger Stevens

Why not give poetry books for Christmas this year? There have been some great poetry books for children published in the last twelve months. Here are a few of my favourites. Why not share yours? Let’s spread the word!

Hear Here (Hands Up Books) by Trevor Parsons. It’s his first collection of poems and great fun. (See the review by the Undercover Poet). Also from Hands Up Books I’d recommend Ian Bland and Philip Waddells’ new collection Go to the Head. Laughs a plenty here – as in Philip’s…

A mischievous phantom called Clarence

Loved making a sudden appearance

He thought the trick cool

Till a humourless ghoul

Reported him to his transparents

When there’s so much doom and gloom in the publishing world – wonderful small presses like Hands Up Books need all our support. Check it out here - www.handsupbooks.co.uk

Other poetry books published this year included The Language of Cat (Frances Lincoln) by Rachel Rooney, a stand out collection that should be on everyone’s shelves, as should Pie Corbetts’ beautifully written Evidence of Dragons (Macmillan). I’d also recommend Best of Enemies, Best of Friends (Wayland) – Brian Moses’ anthology for older children and teenagers.

For younger readers I'd recommend Hey Little Bug (Frances Lincoln) by James Carter. A lovely book, and great for reading aloud.

And finally – for poetry lovers everywhere, for children, for grandma and grandad, or for the bird lovers in your life – Celia Warren’s magnificent RSBP Anthology of Wildlife Poetry (A&C Black).

Oh, and I nearly forgot. You could also give that very special person one of my books as a present. A Million Billion Poems (Part One) (A&C Black) – an anthology of all my favourite poets – Does Your Face Fit (A&C Black) – an anthology for teenagers – or my latest solo collection Beware! Low Flying Rabbits (Macmillan).

So – what poetry books will you be buying for friends, brothers, sisters, children, parents or grandparents this Christmas? Do let us know.

Through a Letterbox

I like taking photographs and sometimes the pictures inspire a poem. What I select from the photo - how I frame it - can influence my poem. I recently photographed a butterfly with a torn wing. It's late in the year to see Red Admirals still flying around and, in strong winds, no wonder s/he was a little the worse for wear. When I trimmed my picture it was the shape of a letter box. So then that shape became my 'virtual letter box' through which I imagined looking at the world - and the butterfly - going by. Here's my poem - followed by a writing challenge for you.

I'm looking at life through a letterbox.
It's safe behind closed doors:
No wasp to sting, no sudden shocks,
No threats, no debts, no broken laws.
No fears, no foes, no trampled toes,
No gossipers who mutter by,
But, look! – one lonely butterfly,
Still pretty with a wing that tore.
Poor thing. It has no letterbox.
Poor thing. It has no door.

What I'd like you to try is writing your own poem 'Through a ...' whatever it is you are looking through. It might be a letterbox, too. Or it might be through your fingers, through a telescope; binoculars - held back-to-front; a toilet roll; sunglasses; a glass tank (perhaps you are a goldfish?) Have a go!

by Celia Warren

Poem © Celia Warren 2011

There Was An Old Writer of Limericks

by Philip Waddell

Humour can and does appear in many forms of poetry but one form of poem that must have been invented for humour and for which I have a very soft spot is the limerick. 

Here is an early example by the 19th century artist and poet Edward Lear who famously helped to popularise the form:

There was an Old Man with a beard,

Who said, 'It is just as I feared!

Two Owls and a Hen,

Four Larks and a Wren,

Have all built their nests in my beard!'

Whilst the form looks easy, writing an even mildly amusing limerick presents a sizeable challenge.

I’ll often start my attempt by picking a name (a person’s or a place’s) with which to end the first line of my limerick. Having thought of one I’ll try to think of as many words that rhyme with it as I can to see if any combination of the name with two of its rhymes suggests anything funny. Picking Hyde, for example, I came up with this:

Mad Hatter

A whacky teenager from Hyde

A hat with a bell on once tried.

‘Does this hat,’ he asked, ‘Mum,

Make me look sort of dumb?’

‘Of course not!’ she said, but she lied.

But as the limerick by Edward Lear shows your first line doesn’t have to end with a name. You can choose any word that has enough rhymes. I make a list of the rhymes as they occur to me and if the list begins to look long I’ll save thinking time – and maybe discover a few words I wouldn’t otherwise have thought of – by getting out my rhyming dictionary. Words ending in ean, een or ine gave a good long list that led me to this:

Fetching Appearance

There’s a shy insect, leggy and lean,

Hides in foliage not to be seen,

It pretends it’s a stick,

So convincing a trick

It’s been fetched by a dog on the green.

Sometimes I’ll think of a pun* that might make a good ending to a limerick:

Unhappy Customer

From Frankenstein’s clinic he barged

And shambled, grotesque and enlarged

Raging, ‘Man, am I mad

At the treatment I’ve had

And worse, now I’ve been overcharged!’

Sometimes I’ll just write something extremely silly:

The Monster Of Sponge

The monster of sponge has been cursed,

By a witch, with a terrible thirst –

Now it drinks and it drinks

And it drinks and it drinks

And it drinks till it thinks it will burst!

I’ll even make up a word to end a limerick:

Creative Writing

A writer of rhyming verse said,

When stuck for a rhyme go to bed,

If still stuck when you wake,

For your sanity’s sake,

Just make up the word that you ned!

Sometimes a limerick that amuses me will just pop into my head but mostly I find the finished poem will only come after lots of rewrites. If I have managed to write a limerick that I like I’ll next try to give it an appropriate and if possible, punning title. But that’s just me and the title of your limerick can be just its first line.

Finally, don’t be surprised if most of your limericks end up in the bin. Most of mine do. But the pleasure you’ll feel when you write one that makes you smile or better still giggle will, I promise, make all the effort worthwhile.

Hmmm… smile and worthwhile… I wonder…

*My dictionary defines a pun as a joke exploiting the different possible meanings of a word.

What We Didn't Do On Our Holiday

When I was at school (when schools were still in black and white), at the beginning of a new term, we would always have to write a poem or an essay entitled What I Did On My Holidays. At the time I quite enjoyed it, but I realised when I became a teacher myself that it wasn’t such an inspiring idea. So, how about writing a poem about what you didn’t do – or wished you had done – on your holiday?

First make a list of all the things you would like to have done. These can be regular activities, like going to the beach, painting, playing tennis, visiting the zoo – or maybe you could use your imagination a little. For example how about water ski-ing in the Mediterranean, white water rafting in Peru, swimming with sharks, having tea with The Queen, winning a million pounds, travelling to Mars, going back in time…

Then use the list to write a poem. (See Jan’s List Poems below for more ideas.)

Here’s a poem I wrote on a similar theme.

Travelling by car is much more fun

Than flying in an aeroplane

Anyway, Mum gets airsick

And there’s nothing to see when you’re up in the clouds

I’m glad we didn’t go to Italy

Because I can’t speak Italian

And Blackpool beach is underrated

When it rains the glistening sands are beautiful

In Italy, Alex says, the sound of the surf

Keeps you awake

But we’re not far from the beach.

It’s only a ten-minute walk, if you run

You don’t see many dolphins from Blackpool beach

But, even better, we swam with the jellyfish.

We much prefer fish and chips

Who wants to eat boring old Spaghetti Bolognese, anyway?

I’m glad we went to Blackpool

Not to Italy, like my best mate Alex

Mum said we mustn’t tell him what a great time we had

He’ll only be jealous

Send your poems to us and we’ll publish them here or on The Poetry Zone.

List Poems

by Jan Dean

List poems can be good fun. First choose a big idea.

• Things to take on holiday/ things to take to the beach/ the caravan/ camping

• To-do list for Friday/ before turning off the light / planning the party

• Shopping list / Christmas presents to buy list

• Top days out list / worst days out list

… any list will do.

Now begin with some real things that make sense on the list you chose.

For example - Animals I’d like to be – in order:

1.

2.

3.

4.

5.

Some kind of lion. A dolphin. A bird (such as Gibson’s Wandering Albatross – because it’s a great name and I've actually seen one).

An Irish Wolfhound

Dragon (who says it has to be a ‘real’ animal?)

Next play with the ideas that you’ve come up with. It can be really simple.

Animals I’d like to be – in order.

A lion – no-one would mess with me then.

A dolphin – best swimmer ever.

A bird – lots of birds - I’ll try out sparrowing and parroting,

eagling and puffin-ing.

An Irish Wolfhound – big as a donkey.

A dragon, a dragon, a dragon

Red as fire and fierce as a volcano.

Or write a picture of each creature you chose

I’ll be…

I’ll be a lion. Some kind of lion,

a black lion that roars like the night

or a silver lion with claws like crescent moons.

Maybe a mountain lion

high over a golden canyon

yellow eyes watching

lizards skitter in the sand.

I’ll be a dolphin

not a bottle-nose or a porpoise

something bluer and more beautiful

the sea become skin and muscle

waves leaping.

I’ll be a dragon

and carve the air into winds,

ride the light.

Now play again. keep working, changing and rearranging your list and your ideas until you're really pleased with the result.

I want to be a bird

I’ve heard

it’s good to be a bird

word on the street

says being a bird’s sweet.

You could tweet that….

And again: 

I’d be a lion, but I couldn’t eat raw meat

I’d be a dolphin, but I’m seasick

Gibson’s Wandering Albatross could be good

but would I stray too far?

- fly too far south, past icebergs

over white Antarctic frost -

Would I get lost?

I’d be a wolfhound – wild and lairy

kind of smelly, kind of hairy.

I’d have to wear a lead and collar with a tag on…

Don’t fancy that

I’ll be a dragon.

Have a go. See what you come up with. And send us your poem!

La Fuite du Stegosaurus

Immobile

Dans le musée

Je prépare

En secret

Ma fuite

A midi

Pour faire diversion

Pterodactyl

Va s’envoler au plafond du musée

Et plonger sur les gardiens

Pendant ce temps

Je vais me glisser tranquillement

Par la sortie secours

Et me fondre

Dans la foule Parisienne

Roger Stevens

Translated Yveline Bady

Fun on the Tube

by Roger Stevens

It was a special day in the poet’s calendar, National Poetry Day. I was on my way to visit a school near Regent’s Park, in London. The train from Brighton to London was late and I was worried that I wouldn’t get to the school on time. Then I had a most peculiar and action-packed tube journey.

I boarded the tube at Victoria underground station. It was only a few stops to Regent’s Park and so I thought I would just about make it on time. But the tube train sat in the station for ages. Eventually, the driver announced that the delay was due to a man hitting a train further down the line.

I thought this was very odd. Usually, I thought, a train would (usually tragically) hit a person, not the other way round. I imagined a train going past and a man leaning over and slapping it. “Take that,” he’d say. “You naughty, naughty train!”

Eventually we started up and I glanced at my watch. I might still get to the school on time.

But we hadn’t gone much further when the train stopped – in a tunnel. The driver announced that as it was National Poetry Day, every passenger had to share a poem with everyone else in their carriage. I recited a haiku because, as you know, they are very short. A couple of passengers didn’t know any poems (hard to believe I know) and I thought we would soon be moving again. But then a tall guy with long dreadlocks stood up and began reciting a rap poem. He was very good. We all kept the beat by stamping on the floor and clapping. But the poem went on for ages and ages and I knew now that I would surely be late.

We finally got moving again and we were nearly there – when the train stopped once more.

“I’m really very sorry for the delay,” the driver said, “but there has been an incident. A zebra has escaped from its enclosure at London Zoo and run into the tube station. It scrambled down the escalator and is running around in the tunnel somewhere, but we don’t know exactly where.”

Well, that was it. Now I knew I would be late for sure. We waited for about five minutes until the driver announced, “I’m sorry, we’ll be here just a little longer, but we hope to have the situation under control soon. We’ve sent a lion into the underground tunnel to catch the zebra.”

I finally reached the school about half an hour late. Before I gave my poetry performance I apologised and told everyone why I was late. They all clapped. They thought I’d made it up! Especially the bit about a man hitting a train. 

·         Have you had any exciting or just strange journeys that you could turn into a poem or a story. If you have, let us know.