A stranger called this morning
Dressed all in black and grey
Put every sound into a bag
And carried them away
The whistling of the kettle
The turning of the lock
The purring of the kitten
The ticking of the clock
The popping of the toaster
The crunching of the flakes
When you spread the marmalade
The scraping noise it makes
The hissing of the frying pan
The ticking of the grill
The bubbling of the bathtub
As it starts to fill
The drumming of the raindrops
On the windowpane
When you do the washing-up
The gurgle of the drain
The crying of the baby
The squeaking of the chair
The swishing of the curtain
The creaking of the stair
A stranger called this morning
He didn't leave his name
Left us only silence
Life will never be the same...
Poem from Under the Moon & Over the Sea by John Agard
I like to stay up
and listen
when big people talking
jumbie stories
I does feel
so tingly and excited
inside me
But when my mother say
“Girl, time for bed”
Then is when
I does feel a dread
Then is when
I does jump into me bed
Then is when
I does cover up
from me feet to me head
Then is when
I does wish I didn't listen
to no stupid jumbie story
Then is when I does wish I read
me book instead
From Under the Moon and Over the Sea
(“Jumbie” is a Guyanese word for “ghost”.)
Why not try...
...
Poem from Blue Balloons and Rabbit Ears by Hilda Offen
Furrows unfurl,
Carved by the plough – Curl, fold, fall back:
The skin peels away.
Struggle of earthworms:
Sheen of crow's wing:
Roots.
Pipe stems, bones:
Splintered flints:
Black leaf-mould:
Shells.
Odours of earth,
Secret, moist – Sighs and whispers
Of long buried things.
Now china sparks
In the sun – Gold-traced, fragmented,
A rose
Bursts into life.
...
Poem from My Life as a Goldfish and other poems by Rachel Rooney
Fire under footfall.
Fire over skies.
Fire on a matchstick.
Fire in my eyes.
Fire holding hunger.
Fire seeking wood.
Fire hiding danger.
Fire feeling good.
Fire as the enemy.
Fire acting friend.
Fire I must stamp on.
Fire I must tend.
Fire in the embers.
Fire at the heart.
Fires to remember.
Fires yet to start.
...
In the beginning was the word
and the word is ours:
the names of places,
the names of flowers,
the name of names,
words are ours.
Page-turners
for early learners
How to boil an egg
or mend a leg
Words are ours
Wall charts
Love hearts
Sports reports
Short retorts
Jam-jar labels
Timetables
Following the instructions
for furniture constructions
Ancient mythologies
Online anthologies
Who she wrote for
Who to vote for
Joke collections
Results of elections
Words are ours
The tale's got you gripped
Have you learned your script?
The method of an experiment
Ingredients for merriment
W8n 4ur txt
Re: whts nxt
Print media
Wikipedia
Words are ours
Subtitles on TV
Details on your CV
Book of great speeches
Guide to the best beaches
Looking for chapters
on velociraptors
Words are ours
The mystery of history
The history of mystery
The views of news
The news of views
Words to explain
the words for pain
Doing geography
Autobiography
Arabian Nights
Fighting for your rights
What to do in payphones
Goodbyes on gravestones
Words are ours.
From Michael Rosen's Big Book of Bad Things.
Why not try......
My love is like a well-read book
which makes me smile each time I look.
It shouts and whispers, roars and sings
it grounds me and it gives me wings.
It’s the wizard’s whizz, the dragon’s flame
it’s the firework that writes my name.
Love is long as a giant’s leap
it’s mountains high and chasms deep,
wild as oceans, calm as tea – the geography of you and me.
Love glows bright as firelight
a steady flame on a stormy night.
It’s mine to give and yours to keep
light as laughter and bone-bite deep.
It’s flying for beginners,
gravy boats and roast beef dinners,
bubble wrap with tinsel stars,
Christmas Eve and racing cars.
My love is like the well-worn track
that lets you leave, but wants you back.
It’s strong as lions and quiet as snow
it holds you close and lets you go.
My love is mine my whole life through
that is my love and it is you....
A poem is not an Ant
but it can be quite short.
A poem is not a Banana
but there may be something under its skin.
A poem is not a Coat
but it may have some warmth in it.
A poem is not a Dog
but it might be quite a friend.
A poem is not an Endless pair of trousers
but it can be quite long.
A poem is not a Football shaped like a cucumber.
A poem is not a Great number of things.
A poem is not a Hedgehog
but it might be hard to get hold of.
A poem is not an Igloo
but it can feel like home.
A poem is not a Jumble sale,
but it might contain some rubbish.
A poem is not a Kite
but it might enjoy the wind.
A poem is not a Lightbulb
but you can change it if you want to.
A poem is not a Monkey
but can be quite human.
A poem is not a Nut
but you can give it to a monkey.
A poem is not an Opera score or an open score
but it can be revealing.
A poem is not a Prison
and it shouldn't feel like...