Some things, are clearly for grown-ups.
Dark Chocolate. Long books with very small text.
The drinks Mum and Dad keep in the cellar.
Responsibilities.
Uggh.
The thing is, some things that you think are for grown-ups - kids can enjoy too.
Movies with a lot of blood and guns and guts. Adults say kids shouldn't watch them, but I say with certainty kids would love them.
The same with expensive food and make-up. Kids enjoy them, far more than old people would, in some cases. Even if they don't always use them as they were intended.
In each case. Grown-up adult people said "This is Ours. This is not for children.".
Here's a secret. You were never told poetry was one of those things which was just for grown-ups.
You just assumed it must be.
You assumed it must be, because it was read by boring people.
You assumed it must be, because there seemed to be a uniform of jackets and smart trousers. And uniforms are definitely for grown-ups.
You assumed, because they insisted on reading boring poetry.
And, if there's one thing all adults are, it is boring.
Here's the thing. Poetry isn't boring. Not all of it anyway.
If I say "You are the master of your fate, the captain of your soul!" - that's poetry.
I tell you to "Take the road less travelled" - then explore poetry with me.
Poetry can make you big. It can make you fall in love.
It can inspire your football team, or be sung on a stage.
Poetry doesn't have to rhyme. It also doesn't have to be boring.
It can, be really, really, cool.
Here's an example of some poetry.
You are wonderful.
You, yes you, have made people smile.
You have told someone something they didn't know
- and they were smarter after, because they met you!
You can make words. Some are good. Some are bad.
And, in the right order, they can be really powerful.
You have poetry inside you.
And you are not boring. And neither are the words you will write, and the things you will create.
So go out. Use your words. Share your poetry.
And don't let adults keep this secret to themselves anymore.
26 July 2017
19 July 2017
The lost girl
The stars seemed to twinkle. The moon was bright.
We talked too long through a too-short night.
We were barely distinct shapes, voices in the dark.
We sat on seats of moss and bark.
Gathered as friends round a diminishing campfire.
We told tales to cheer and inspire.
One told a tale that made every person there cry.
One told of a man who would never die.
I ventured a story, very well told.
Of how I imagined I would be when I'm old.
It was universally agreed that it took second place.
To the person whose story will now fill this space.
He told of a girl. No, not a story like that.
This girl was quite pretty, but he ignored that fact.
This was joyous story which was sad to its core.
About a friend he didn't get to see anymore.
She was smart, but not in an academic way,
The sort of girl who knew every game you could play.
She didn't do well in school, because she gave too much time,
To listen to people, whether they'd boast or they'd whine.
She never realised, but whenever she was in the place,
Everyone there would have a smile on their face.
And she wouldn't be the center, seeking attention,
She'd say just a few words, and guide the conversation.
Give a new topic or fun thing to try,
And let everyone else explore the how and why.
My friend told of one time, he'd just lost his sister,
He'd cut himself off the world, that's how much he missed her.
He'd been sitting alone at lunch, as he had done for days,
When the girl came along and sat in front of his gaze.
And he couldn't remember the precise words she said,
But a mist and a fog seemed to lift from his head.
What's worse is, she didn't even seem to know what she'd done.
She'd just chatted to him because she'd thought it'd be fun.
Now, what happened to this girl of so many powers?
I'd assumed she'd got lost in castles and towers.
Lost from this world because she'd caught a fairytale's curse,
The actual truth ended up being much worse.
The girl, quite simply, grew up.
She got really stressed with exams.
She tried to find a job, so she could have some money for college.
She was told what to say. Told how to stay in line.
She did too. Got a decent degree. Got a job that pays the rent.
But she doesn't make people smile in the same way anymore.
My friend has a strained smile. He was determined to make it stick.
He said they still speak once a while. It's usually quite quick.
It's a little bit strained, but he can't let it go.
Determined to talk to the girl that he used to know.
He never revealed to the girl what she used to be.
She never really realised, he didn't want to seem guilty.
He told the story well, so we applauded his tale.
While the man sat in the past, stoic and pale.
We talked too long through a too-short night.
We were barely distinct shapes, voices in the dark.
We sat on seats of moss and bark.
Gathered as friends round a diminishing campfire.
We told tales to cheer and inspire.
One told a tale that made every person there cry.
One told of a man who would never die.
I ventured a story, very well told.
Of how I imagined I would be when I'm old.
It was universally agreed that it took second place.
To the person whose story will now fill this space.
He told of a girl. No, not a story like that.
This girl was quite pretty, but he ignored that fact.
This was joyous story which was sad to its core.
About a friend he didn't get to see anymore.
She was smart, but not in an academic way,
The sort of girl who knew every game you could play.
She didn't do well in school, because she gave too much time,
To listen to people, whether they'd boast or they'd whine.
She never realised, but whenever she was in the place,
Everyone there would have a smile on their face.
And she wouldn't be the center, seeking attention,
She'd say just a few words, and guide the conversation.
Give a new topic or fun thing to try,
And let everyone else explore the how and why.
My friend told of one time, he'd just lost his sister,
He'd cut himself off the world, that's how much he missed her.
He'd been sitting alone at lunch, as he had done for days,
When the girl came along and sat in front of his gaze.
And he couldn't remember the precise words she said,
But a mist and a fog seemed to lift from his head.
What's worse is, she didn't even seem to know what she'd done.
She'd just chatted to him because she'd thought it'd be fun.
Now, what happened to this girl of so many powers?
I'd assumed she'd got lost in castles and towers.
Lost from this world because she'd caught a fairytale's curse,
The actual truth ended up being much worse.
The girl, quite simply, grew up.
She got really stressed with exams.
She tried to find a job, so she could have some money for college.
She was told what to say. Told how to stay in line.
She did too. Got a decent degree. Got a job that pays the rent.
But she doesn't make people smile in the same way anymore.
My friend has a strained smile. He was determined to make it stick.
He said they still speak once a while. It's usually quite quick.
It's a little bit strained, but he can't let it go.
Determined to talk to the girl that he used to know.
He never revealed to the girl what she used to be.
She never really realised, he didn't want to seem guilty.
He told the story well, so we applauded his tale.
While the man sat in the past, stoic and pale.
12 July 2017
The night was not always meant to be slept through
The Organised Masses™ insist that the day holds many hours.
That you should rise early to unleash your powers.
That the World looks beautiful at 6am.
That they can rise early, and that we should join them.
Now, I don’t attempt to debate or dispute.
That mornings work well, or that sunrises are cute.
Nor can I refute all of the work they get done.
Compared to those that stay in bed until one.
They seem to run the country, and most of the Earth too.
My only response is – the night was not always meant to be
slept through.
So here’s to the night crawlers
The partiers, the insomniacs, and ballers
Those who know whether the moon is about to wax or wane
Those who live life with no temporal refrain
Who chat to the late hours, because you don’t want to give
up on a conversation
Those with a deadline, waylaid by unwilling procrastination
The young girl, waiting patiently for a reply with a smile
From a young man, separated by six hours and a mile
The dancer who lives for moments that don’t happen in the
day
The station guard, helping the final few make their way
The shop attendant who needs the money for a car
The jogger who stops to find the north star
The volunteer, up late to stop a caller coming to harm
The couple who stay awake in each other’s arms
The artist who needed that perfect shade of deep blue
Believe me – the night was not always meant to be slept
through
5 July 2017
The first among us
This poem is dedicated to the first among us,
He's the one who went first, and he caused enough fuss,
That our parents couldn't muster as much energy to be annoyed at us when they asked "Why?"
At the silly stuff we'd do under their tired eyes,
Because he went first, and he took the worst,
He was the first among us, and the first on this Earth.
He, he was the first to go to school,
Set out on the challenge of learning and trying to being cool,
Man he earned his way, he couldn't be a fool,
And just copy an older sibling's homework if he couldn't do it all,
And he's a perfectionist, our brother - so he always tried his best.
He was the first among us to take life's tests.
And he was the first to ace life's tests!
He, he was the first to leave the home,
Go out on his own, try to make it alone,
Packed up his bags, went to university,
Head down, a degree in pharmacology,
But he also got great friends there. And he learnt things I'll never know.
The first among us. And still he's still got so far to go.
He, he was an inspiration to me, and he got me learning,
He got my brain and my other muscles working,
Showed me the power of strength of mind,
Hinted that hip-hop has much great music to find,
And when I left home, you can bet he was nearby and had led the way there too.
He is my brother. And Robin. I'm so proud of you.
Because,
You were the first one among us here on this Earth.
You were the first to start earning and prove your worth.
You were the first to go out and leave the house.
And now you're the first to go and get a spouse.
And while we're on the subject...
What an amazing, wonderful, beautiful, charming woman you've found. This is Sarah and she has dedicated her life to caring.
It's unfair! You make such a fantastic pairing.
But for my brother to be leading the way? The first among us, let me say I expect nothing less.
But to the both of you - best of wishes, and God Bless.
This was a very special poem to get to write and perform. To my brother Robin, and his new wife Sarah - thank you very much for giving me the opportunity to express just how amazing you both are. Have wonderful lives together.
Also, this poem was very much written to be performed, so it doesn't really work on the page. Sorry about that. But not really.
He's the one who went first, and he caused enough fuss,
That our parents couldn't muster as much energy to be annoyed at us when they asked "Why?"
At the silly stuff we'd do under their tired eyes,
Because he went first, and he took the worst,
He was the first among us, and the first on this Earth.
He, he was the first to go to school,
Set out on the challenge of learning and trying to being cool,
Man he earned his way, he couldn't be a fool,
And just copy an older sibling's homework if he couldn't do it all,
And he's a perfectionist, our brother - so he always tried his best.
He was the first among us to take life's tests.
And he was the first to ace life's tests!
He, he was the first to leave the home,
Go out on his own, try to make it alone,
Packed up his bags, went to university,
Head down, a degree in pharmacology,
But he also got great friends there. And he learnt things I'll never know.
The first among us. And still he's still got so far to go.
He, he was an inspiration to me, and he got me learning,
He got my brain and my other muscles working,
Showed me the power of strength of mind,
Hinted that hip-hop has much great music to find,
And when I left home, you can bet he was nearby and had led the way there too.
He is my brother. And Robin. I'm so proud of you.
Because,
You were the first one among us here on this Earth.
You were the first to start earning and prove your worth.
You were the first to go out and leave the house.
And now you're the first to go and get a spouse.
And while we're on the subject...
What an amazing, wonderful, beautiful, charming woman you've found. This is Sarah and she has dedicated her life to caring.
It's unfair! You make such a fantastic pairing.
But for my brother to be leading the way? The first among us, let me say I expect nothing less.
But to the both of you - best of wishes, and God Bless.
This was a very special poem to get to write and perform. To my brother Robin, and his new wife Sarah - thank you very much for giving me the opportunity to express just how amazing you both are. Have wonderful lives together.
Also, this poem was very much written to be performed, so it doesn't really work on the page. Sorry about that. But not really.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)