A new addition to the literary calendar, Poetry Slam marked a move away from the longstanding tradition of the reading competition and placed original writing at its heart. Embracing the art of spoken word, every year group explored a different theme, and every pupil wrote their own poem, shaping words into personal and powerful expressions.

“We decided to take a risk with the Poetry Slam, breaking away from tradition and shaking up the curriculum, and we feel it really paid off.” – Mrs Chacksfield, Head of English

Poets from every year group, along with those in the Westminster Platform programme, shared work that they had developed over the term. With guest appearances from acclaimed poets, John Agard and Joshua Seigal, the evening highlighted the power of poetic language and the confidence found in sharing it aloud. 

The performances represented just a fraction of the incredible work produced. With so much talent, selecting pieces was no easy task. Some poems were chosen for their lyrical power, others for the progress their writers had made, and some simply because they were too good not to share. The results were as varied as they were compelling – from quiet reflections to vivid storytelling, from moments of humour to poetry of depth and seriousness.  

Each year group engaged with a different literary focus: Greek mythology in Year 3, the language of emotion in Year 4, nature in Year 5, and heroic narrative in Year 6. Older pupils explored questions of identity, culture, and conflict. Every voice, whether performed on stage or not, contributed to the depth and variety of the work produced across the term. Platform pupils also contributed to the event, performing poems developed during their monthly Saturday lessons, as part of the programme’s English focus. Their enthusiasm and hard work added to the richness of the evening. 

Mrs Jones, Director of Platform, commented: “Watching our Platform poets pour their hearts into their words was truly inspiring. Their creativity, confidence and passion illuminated the stage.” 

Joshua Seigal, a familiar face at the Under School, returned to perform his poetry. He has previously led workshops, assemblies and judged past reading competitions for WUS, and his work – including the popular Who Let the Words Out – continues to inspire pupils across the school. His performance, full of warmth and energy, reminded the audience of poetry’s power to connect, both with others and within ourselves. His reading of Backstage seemed to speak directly to many of the pupils preparing to perform. 

Aryan, Year 7, said: “Addressing an audience is something that can be quite daunting, but with my friends surrounding me, family members encouraging me, and the teachers inspiring me, I eased into the flow. When Joshua Seigal read out his poem Backstage, it clearly resonated with my emotions.” 

John Agard, one of the foremost poets and cross-cultural voices in the world, also performed. His work is studied as part of the GCSE English curriculum and includes widely recognised poems such as Half-Caste and Checking Out Me History. Known for his wit, energy and insight, Agard’s reading brought new meaning to familiar poems, offering a fresh perspective beyond the classroom. From the humour and rhythm of Taking the Dogma for a Walk, to the lasting impact of Half-Caste, and the personal touch of Bisector, which was dedicated to our Head of Maths, Mr Matthews, his reading brought a profound sense of occasion to the evening.  

In his closing remarks, Agard spoke warmly of the quality of the poetry he had heard and of the creative spirit that had made such an event possible. He reminded us all that language, when allowed to flourish, can unite the arts and sciences – not divide them – and that creativity belongs at the heart of education. 

The Master, Mrs Jefferson, reflected: “Poetry Slam was an uplifting and joyous celebration of the power of the written word, so creatively and powerfully expressed by a wide range of pupils from across the School, as well as a group of specially invited pupils benefiting from our Platform programme. Thank you to all parents for their support with this event, and to Mrs Chacksfield and the English Department for organising it.” 

For those who performed, the experience left a strong impression. Marcus, Year 7, said: “I felt a bit nervous when rehearsing, but actually performing my poem felt great and was really fun. It’s something I will always remember”. 

The following poems were performed on the night and represent just a glimpse of the voices shared on stage: 

Hades by Zain (Year 3)
Swallowed by his father, Cronos,
Like all of his brothers and sisters before.
Zeus rescued his brother 
And started the sibling war. 

Zeus captured the Titans,
Not knowing what would come next.
Hades ruled the underworld, 
Deep beneath the surface.
Cave of lost souls
Long since forgotten. 

Down, down, down beneath the Earth, 
Hades’ kingdom is there.
Without company.
All alone and aloof is Hades, 
With his terrifying dog, Cerberus. 

The River Sytx flows deep and wide, 
Hades lurks on the southern side.
Caron, the boat-man is waiting for you.
Hopefully you will never meet him.
Just remember to have a gold coin if you do…
 

Nonno by Davide (Year 4)
My grandfather was a great man
Everyone who knew him was a big fan
More than a friend and the light of my day
I’ve never had more fun than when he and I would play 

He was a biscuit loving cuddly bear
With a round belly and soft silky hair
Bello, buono ed elegante he would say 
Always prepared, job’s done without delay 

His family meant the world to him
With them there was never a moment of grim
Football ruled, Forza Napoli!
That passion he passed on to me happily 

Him and I together were an invincible team, 
Together with him I could conquer my dreams 
We played cards, ping pong and football 
Hours of fun on the beach.. we did it all! 

I miss him more than anything
My time with him was everything 
He is a star brighter than the sun
I will always be proud to be his grandson.

Nature Dying by Emily (Year 5 Platform pupil)
Trees swaying with nature’s song
Leaves dancing all day long
Acorns falling
As birds are calling
The sun shines bright
As owls wait for night
When chainsaws are getting ready
Trees try to stay steady
Trees disappearing
Forests becoming into clearings
Trees on the ground lying
Animals crying
Kids drawing on paper
People using tree-oil products later

The Battle by Ayaan (Year 6)
The caves cowered and the winds wept
The good people of the Geat now grim and stony faced
For they had to face the wrath of that evil.
Satan’s brother bane of many a brave soul.
Men to eat, carrion to become.
The winters were cold, cursed but…
The dawn is breaking, god’s son has come Hrothgar anew, a perfect prince.
Shall he be sung by bards or sunken to the graves?
Now night falls… and Rygor approaches.
Inhuman curse! Whip handed horror!
Wild with wrath, eyes on stalks.
All seeing, all finding All killing, all dying
Yet Beowulf, unfazed, dropped his armour and rose to rid the world of its sin.
The Titans tumbled, locked in a fight.
Wrestled and wrecked in ruinous combat.
The world held its breath.
Beowulf indifferent to death was a true wolf of wounds
Rash, risen, raged, Rygor made a mistake.
Blood erupted.
With triumph he heaved and Rygor’s eye loosened be.
The land licked crimson, the fish carriers ruby.
And Beowulf’s name rode the heavens.

In My World by Vyom (Year 7)
In my world,
My flag is an Indian flag
Combined with an English one.
A blue Indian wheel with a red English Cross
Overlapping each other.
In my world, You can drink tea With samosas and chutney.
The irresistible spice of the samosa Mixing with the tangy milk of tea.
In my world,
Big Ben is on the
Same skyline as the Taj Mahal
The Royal Observatory with
The Gateway to India.
In my world,
You can go pond dipping
In the iconic River Ganges.
You can cleanse in the Thames
Like it is a holy place.
In my world, India and England
Are equal like one and एक.
They are different ways of saying the same thing:
A part of me. 

Gotcha by Alex (Year 8)
This poem follows a young man from Birmingham during the 1890s to 1914.
I grew up with the Brummie boys, 
Belting down cobbles, dodging the barrels.
Played a game, ‘Gotcha’ was its name-
A rough boy’s lark, shot through with fear. 

 A big lad, Tom, ran the game.
I wondered what being got was like, 
So I asked him to join one day.
Cocky little fellow I was then. 

Bashed so hard one night, limped
Home over muddy fields in the moonlight 
Covered in blood. Cost more to my dad 
Than a month’s wage. Sorry ma, sorry.  

Then the army came calling, and the King 
Who wanted me to play his game.
Same thrill as the cobbled yards, guns 
In hand, pride in our gleaming eyes.
But it was hell. Got ripped by the wire, 
Frozen by the ice and fear, burned 
By the shell blast and the running, 
Running in the mud till silence fell. 

I’m back at home, in my warm bed, 
No more bombs, the light streaming 
Even though my body is shattered in Cambrai 
My soul is back. So sorry ma. So sorry.