Tag: poetry

Poetry on the Hoof: Terraced? Semi? Detached? Year 7 plan their future homes.

You gotta decide the lighting,
It’s November, remember.
You gotta agree,
Sort it out reasonably.
You gotta think it out,
You’ve gotta act quick.
Silence hush descends.

You’ll need pools of light
You’ll need water, air, space.
Somewhere to park the car
When the days close in.
Can I get a red phone box?
Can I get an allotment?
Silence hush descends.

You’re gonna see nothing
With windows like that.
You’re gonna be a resident, remember.
You’re gonna freeze to death
With walls like that.
Are we gonna pretend?
That we have to pay mortgages an’ ‘owt?
Silence hush descends.

You gotta make a choice,
Or you’re gonna get stuck.
Best to say little,
If you’re not sure.
If you don’t wanna pay for ‘owt can we live in a toilet?
We could use our imagination.
Silence hush descends.

Everyone’s gotta live somewhere
Everyone’s gotta have a place
They can call their own.
But if you’re gonna want a family.
But if you’re gonna get you a mortgage,
You gotta be quick,
You gotta be sharp,
You gotta get rid of those ghosts that moved onto your land.
Silence hush descends.

Some responses by then young people of Kingstone School, Barnsley to recent exhortations to a ‘Housing Revolution’. Readers may be interested to know about similar revolutions being plotted in education.

The rhetoric of crisis is also echoed in housing and education too here.

Poetry on the Hoof: Triangulated Data (v1.0)

Did he? Did she?
Does She?

Will he? Will she?
Would (will) She?

Did they? Would they? (if they did…)
Would She? (have…)

Maybe they did? Maybe they didn’t? (perhaps they couldn’t?)
Maybe She would maybe She wouldn’t (perhaps She couldn’t?)
But perhaps they did, perhaps they could have,
Perhaps She might, perhaps She would have,
Perhaps She dared where they feared
To tread
And perhaps they couldn’t.
When She would and could have
And perhaps they all just might have
Conspired, together, in cahoots
A perfect triangle
A seamless bubble
A little bit of surreptitiousness in the undergrowth.
Perhaps (they did) perhaps…

Poetry on the Serbian Hoof

Some great stories and poems from young Serbian creatives here:

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Poetry on the Hoof: I am not a mere Biochemist

I am not a mere biochemist
I am a DNA replicator
Intent on duplicating  my Genome
Through Vivisection and Genetic trials on Mitochondrial Enzymes.
My Phage like protein coat mutates
and my skin steams with Sulphuric acid.

A poem on the hoof: thanks to Cliff Yates