Climbing the charts

My book seems to be climbing the charts! Number 12 out of nearly 44,000.

Christmas poem

Thought would have a go a a not so classic Christmas poem.

Christmas shopping

Crush, push, wait,walk.
It is the last minute Christmas shop.

Indistinguishable mutterings over the shop loudspeaker, directing a staff member, like a Devine message, to where they are needed.

Bags full of worry, weighing down already sunken shoulders. Presents of ‘will they like it?’ and ‘do they already have it?’

Modern bands covering classic songs, regurgitated each year. Played earlier and earlier and earlier.

Christmas is coming. The threat of this mammoth beast, ready to come and take over your life.

The look on the persons face when they open the present, the sunshine smile that spreads across it. The forgotten memory of the battle, once glory has been achieved.

The annual mantra of ‘I’ll start earlier next year.’

Elf poems

As promised, here is the poem for my first book. It’s available on IBooks and amazon. Just type in squidge and look for the little elf on the front cover.

I also included the first paragraph so it all makes sense.

 

There once was a time, long, long ago,
When toys were simple, and making them slow,
The elves would carve and chop and sew,
But that was a long, long, long, time ago.
And now, every year, as we get the first snow,
Santa opens his letters, but he does not know
What the children have asked for. He says: ‘Ho, ho, ho!
‘Such new fangled things, with screens all aglow!’
And so our story starts: ready, steady …

 
‘Go and fetch me the laptop!’ shouted an elf. Santa’s workshop had changed a lot. So much so that Santa was still trying to catch up with all these new-fangled hoojamaflips and wotsits. The workshop was still run by the elves,
but instead of toy soldiers and dolls, children now wanted all manner of things. Santa had tried to get most of the stuff made abroad and delivered to his workshop (like MP3 players, Plasma TVs and handheld games consoles) but
he still had lots of things that he made right there in Lapland. Santa still remembered the days when his workshop was full of elves hammering and sewing, but now they all worked on big machines and it looked more like a factory than a tidy little workshop. Santa had moved with the times and updated, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

Simple Poems

So much depends
upon

a small white
envelope

sitting in the post
box

waiting to be
read

Just a little William Carlos Williams.

More Street Music

Here is my attempt to capture the sounds of East London. Mainly used as an example for the kids in my class (year5 – 9 and 10 year olds). They seemed to like it. Inspired by Arnold Adoff.

Street Music

My city:

the always shouting

screaming

noise of the park at night.

The bad boy racers

V   r   o   o   m    v   r   o    o   m   v    r    o    o    m

Ding

goes the

bell of the nearly run over cyclist.

Shake

rattle

rattle trains

screeching down the track with their

chugga                                                  chugga                                                 wheels

The low planes in all

V             o             c              a              b             u             l               a              r              i               e             s

of rumble

whoosh

noise.

My city: the never ending barking of wanna be gangsters dogs and jingle of their leads.

Bark                       bark                                      bark.

Shhhhhhh.

And finally sleep.

 

Street music

Just another quick note about ‘love that dog’ by Sharon Creech. Just finished marking some of the poems based on street music by Arnold Adoff. It’s amazing the things kids in a inner city school hear and are immune to. Things that would have made me run a mile as a kid. Some amazing poems, full of onomatopoeia and set out in wonderful ways. You can almost hear Deptford while you read them.