Our Learning Will Never End (Found Poem)

school is not authentic

we make our own music

A canvas. Paint. A microphone.

let me quote the lyrics

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Recycled Lyrics #2: ‘Softly Weeping’

In the corner
fixing up my mind,
you can find me
most of the time
softly weeping
safely inside
my cage

And in the kitchen
somewhere down the hall,
I can capture us
standing straight and tall
sweetly dreaming
stealing to the sky
again

clutching on to this
cockeyed good-bye kiss.
Darling you’ve been missed
Darling, I’ve been

In the corner
most of the time
you can reach me
leeching off my mind,
softly weeping
safely inside
my brain.

‘Cause now and then
I remember my place.
Heavy drinking
blinking into space
softly sleeping
slipping away
to your cage

clutching on to this
cockeyed good-bye kiss.
Darling you’ve been missed
and darling, while you’re sleeping
I’ll be softly weeping

Rhyme Exercise: End Times

Some GCSE kids write rock songs about living in ‘the end times’,

fumbling over syllables and the length of lines,

soul searching for the most desperate rhymes.

One of them heard Tom Waits for the very first time.

Now everything’s the devil in disguise,

and that waitress,

sure,

she’s got marmalade thighs

but he doesn’t know why

or whether it’s a good thing, besides,

his lyrics are still sticky and adolescent inside.

Like the tissues hiding down his bedside

This is the kid who learnt how to make love and socialise

By repeatedly watching those Central Perk guys.

His favourite has changed from Joey to Ross.

S’pose he feels like he can empathise.

‘I prefer Seinfeld anyway’ he lies

Still forgetting to dot his ‘I’s

But he pretends to prefer anything his friends

don’t know

don’t like

or even despise.

It justifies him feeling marginalised.

Heck, maybe these are the end times

But who ever promised him otherwise?

Undone v.II

But you’re stuck

Again.

Watching the caught up Sun

come undone

for you.

Watching it strip

itself of colour

and cry

for you.

And wash

out the sky

for you.

But you’re stuck

Again.

Watching the colour ooze

from the easel

from the earth

as it gives birth to excuses

for you.

From the sea

from your poetry

from you.

from me.

Till all you see are

Fleeting glimpses of the nothings

that flash

through the peeking spaces

of closed blinds

in that timeless space

where you’re ‘trying’.

But you’re stuck.

Still.

And when the Sun flicks the switch

and finishes itself

You’ll lay the blame

on somebody else.

So that you might find

yourself un

stuck

for the shortest time.

Recycled Diary Entry #1

A good mood.

Smiling.

Trying to sleep.

Then pictures. Crying. Blood. Weep.

Tell myself I’ve misunderstood.

I AM happy!

So why?

Curse. Gets worse. Children dying. Screaming.

Dreaming.

Switch the light on.

Shared bed.

Shaking, scared.

Very late. Wide awake.

Try to sleep.

Pictures.

Bodies moving.

Breaking. Wasting. Exhausting. Holocaust. Gas mask. Straight back. She.

She.

Sh-She tries to calm me.

Pictures.

Us.

A beautiful room.

A big fireplace.

An empty face. Severed head.

Single bed. Rotting corpse. Staring upwards.

Staring.

Staring.

It’s in my head.

Sleep with the light on. T-shirt too tight on.

Awake with the light on.

Too bright. Too much.

Too dark to sleep tonight.

Undone

But you’re stuck
Again
Watching the caught up sun come undone
for you.
Watching it strip
itself of colour and cry
for you.
And wash out the sky
for you.
But you’re stuck
Again.
Watching the colour fade from the earth and then from the sea
Watching it fade from space
from you.
From me. Till all you see are
Fleeting glimpses of the nothing
But you’re stuck.
Still.
And when the sun flicks the switch and finishes itself
You’ll lay the blame on somebody else.
So you can find yourself unstuck
For the shortest time.