8K Poetry Corner

8K have been busy writing poetry inspired by last term’s Poetry unit.

I hope you enjoy reading some of their work!

Mrs Macey

Advertisements
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

11 Responses to 8K Poetry Corner

  1. Eleanor Twigg says:

    They sent me hiking boots,
    instead of uggs.
    Boots the colour of mould,
    I’ll look like a soldier from WW2
    if I ever left the house in these.
    From the box I could tell that I’ll never like them.

    I tried them on,
    I looked like an alien,
    I felt like an alien,
    back in the box they go.

    I wish that I got the uggs I had always longed for
    I can’t leave the house in the these,
    I hope my aunt knows that these aren’t in fashion anymore
    I better text her, quick!

    I know these aren’t the uggs that I had wished for,
    but my aunt bought them for me and that’s all that matters!

  2. Emily Gittins says:

    It took a war,
    To find my identity, half the night
    Tensing as the bullets flew over
    My head, as violently as the men who
    Fired them

    We were savagely pushed into numerous
    Trucks and vans, treated like animals
    Maybe that’s what we seemed,
    As I finally discovered my identity, and
    The meaning of my life

    As I look out across the raging sea
    I loose the last glimmer of hope inside of me
    And begin to fade, my vision hazing and my
    Head spinning, and suddenly, My last thoughts
    Of my family ceased, and I had gone…

    By Emily Gittins 8k

    By Emily Gittins 8k

  3. Emilia Ives says:

    England VS Australia

    The sun on my face
    burning me alive.
    Rain on my newly burnt face,
    I’m wet and cold

    The rare rainy days,
    warm, not cold.
    Cyclones coming and going,
    attempting to damage the
    well built infrastructure.

    The rare sunny days,
    warm to some, cold to me.
    My body used to 33°.
    Now adjusting to 10°c.

    The warm sea, too dangerous to swim in,
    Jelly fish and crocodiles.
    The sand so hot, you hop from foot to foot,
    Blisters boiling.

    The sea, so cold,
    that if one toe touched,
    it would freeze and fall off.

    The memories I made,
    The friends that came.
    I’ll miss this paradise,
    my paradise.

    I’m glad to be home,
    back within a car journey
    from them.
    I can see my family every weekend.

    The memories I made here
    The memories I made there
    I’m glad to be back
    I’ll miss it there.

    By Emilia Ives

  4. Sian Watson says:

    My identity poem

    Forced from their country,
    Their wealth,
    Their home,
    Pushed to a train,
    Their left alone.

    Proof of ownership
    Of mansions and money
    Sewed into a skirt,
    Their frantic feet rushing,
    Their moral was hurt.

    That one step
    Their fate did ride,
    Stumbling and tripping,
    She fell,
    The hem of her skirt ripping.

    Their wealth and money,
    Gone in one stride,
    They crossed the border,
    Leaving Poland behind,
    They arrived in order.

    For many generations,
    They lived in Germany,
    Far from home,
    Far from comfort,
    No place to call their own.

    ^True story about my family during WW2
    Sian 🙂

  5. Millie Weston -Cooke says:

    I am that girl
    That cried today
    That’s my story
    Just go away

    I am that boy
    That told you I was gay
    That’s my story
    Just go away

    I am that slag
    Living in the subway
    That’s my story
    Just go away

    I am that brat
    Obsessed within hairspray
    That’s my story
    Just go away

    This is all
    I have ever heard
    I know I’m the baddy
    But everything is blurred

    Why can’t you understand
    I am sorry, alright?
    The arguing, the fighting
    Let’s just call it a night

    The amount of times
    I’ve been called to that room
    Where the headteacher sits
    And all I feel is gloom

    All the times I said sorry
    But that didn’t work
    The impression I set
    I am such a jerk

    I now understand
    Why I will always be
    I am the bully
    Don’t you see?

    They will never care
    About me or you
    Because we made a mistake
    Feels like Deja by

    I am that bully
    Accept it, ok?
    That’s my story
    Just go away

  6. Matilda and Shannon says:

    They sent me a doll,
    Even though I was thirteen,
    It was made of china,
    And the dress was greeen.

    Shining like a diamond,
    Her hazel eyes,
    Glistening in the sun,
    As big as pork pies.

    They sent me a ring
    As big as can be,
    It didn’t fit my finger,
    Oh dearie me.

    I tried to make it smaller,
    But then it snapped,
    It must of been cheap,
    From Poundland in fact.

    They sent me some shoes,
    The ugliest I’ve seen,
    They sent me a size eight,
    But I just a three.

    Shoes are hard to fix,
    So I have them to my dad,
    Next thing I know they’re in the bin,
    Now I’m not as sad

    They sent me a jumper,
    It didn’t fit me at all,
    It was an ugly patten,
    I was way to tall.

    Although my Grana presents are weird,
    I still love her endless amounts,
    I’m sure I find some use for them,
    Besides its the thought that counts.

  7. Lily thorp says:

    I travelled Half the world
    So far from my own home,
    But as far North we could go,
    There was nowhere we were alone.

    The streets were filled with disease
    No food to spare for a child,
    It seemed the light
    At the end of the tunnel
    Was far from being seen.

    My Brother he got sick
    No doctor we were stuck,
    I wished that war could leave and stay
    Far from my old home.

    A couple weeks later
    My brother he had gone
    We had to let him go,
    To grappling angels, hands outstretched
    Keen to bring him home.

    Me my Mother and Father,
    We were coping all alone,
    But water was running scarce,
    How much longer could we go?

    Father went to find some work
    Returned with his head bowed low,
    My mother tried
     came back the same
    Our time was running out.

    A few years later my mother was gone,
    Bound to join my brother,
    My father wept and held my hand
    While I wished for a better life.

    We struggled on with little hope
    For what was yet to come,
    The winter season was creeping closer
    And still
    We had no food.

    Through ragged breaths and streaming eyes
    We truly defied all odds,
    But father was fading his health degreading
    I could almost see the angels,
    Just waiting yet out of reach.

    With Father gone and nothing left
    Why live on alone?
    I had no food, no wealth no shelter
    My luck is a ticking bomb.

    My lungs were screaming
    Fighting for a breath,
    I try no end to resist the struggle
    But inside, my time was up.

    When I slept that night
    I saw the angels
    They whispered under their breath,
    Looking through lowered lashes
    But I did not hear the words.

    My vacant eyes searched the land
    For signs of any angels,
    But all I saw was death and sadness,
    Does anyone deserve this?

    As my final breath escaped my lips
    I allowed myself a smile
    As I knew that once I was dead and gone
    My poverty
    Would be gone.

    By Lily Thorp

  8. Greta says:

    We came form far away
    A distant country to the east
    I was young, I don’t remember much
    How was I to know that everything
    Was going to turn upside down

    I do not remember the journey
    But I do remember the stress
    The anxiety of a new place
    I remember waking up to new smells
    And an unfamiliar house

    I don’t know how I got there
    Or what I was going to do
    But I accepted it eventually
    And soon it became my home

    I’ve decided when I’m older
    To go back and visit alone
    Go see what I’ve been missing
    And find my real home

  9. Ellen Spencer says:

    They all die one way or another
    Stabbed, shot, bombed,
    What difference does it make
    Because it’s all murder
    Nothing else
    No matter how they go
    You’re still alone
    No one to call
    There’s no point
    Trying to imagine their faces, I mean,
    The lilts and accents,
    The way they held themselves,
    I had to keep replaying scenes in my mind,
    Like an old video camera,
    Grey and faded,
    Sometimes I try to imagine the scars,
    Wounds I’d have if mental was physical,
    Because I feel torn,
    Even if I don’t seem it,
    Outside, a flinch,
    Inside, a scream,
    Ears ringing,
    Mind crumbles,
    Pain doesn’t describe it,
    Nothing can,
    Believe me, I’ve tried,
    Creating a word to sum it up,
    But it’s impossible,
    My galaxy of feelings and memories couldn’t be contained in one light-year,
    Let alone a word,
    Everything’s too complicated for that,
    I guess the only word comparable,
    Is war.

  10. Katie Parratt says:

    Do you see me over here?
    With an expression of no cheer
    Do you see me sat here?
    Trying to hold in the terrible tears.

    Can you see me?
    Sat here alone
    Trying not to moan.

    Why won’t you see me?
    Trying to look as fine as can be
    Just breath in
    One, two ,three

    What have I done?
    I need to know,
    Just tell me please
    I don’t know what to do.

  11. Eloise edwards says:

    A little girl stands innocently at the window,
    Tattered teddy and Wellington boots,
    Peering out to wind blown waves ,
    and holding out her hand.

    A little girl runs,
    With the wind in her caramel ringlets,
    Still with her tattered teddy,
    Making footprints in the squelch.

    A girl splashes,
    Feet in Moltan sand,
    Zipping up her wetsuit,
    Surfboard in hand.

    A girl with nothing to stop her ,
    Riding the wave,
    Flashing back to first time up on the board,
    One of the greatest days.

    A girl with a passion ,
    A passion for the waves,
    Tingling feet amungst the sea weed,
    Done for another day.

    A girl wakes up,
    From a good nights sleep,
    Grabs towel and wetsuit ,
    Sprints down to the beach.

    A girl stands facing
    The wide open ocean,
    Zip,squelch and splash,
    She’s out in the sea.

    A girl is paddeling ,
    Getting a good boost,
    The wave creeps up closer,
    She goes with a “woosh”.

    A girl who’s riding the perfect wave,
    The next two moments,
    would ruin her day….

    A girl who’s board ,
    starts to flip ,
    Twisting twisting,
    She dives in for a dip.

    A girl who has dived
    Head first into sand
    A click in her neck…
    And all will end .

    A sudden silence ,
    The echo of winds above ,
    A freezing cold shiver,
    Sprints up her spine.

    A girl with a story,
    A dream that was crushed,
    A passion with a risk,
    That Could , Be one of us.

    A

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s