Welcoming Joshua Seigal, an inspirational poet and performer, to our school, where he not only shared his award-winning poetry through an interactive live performance but also led two lively workshops with Year 7 pupils.

During the poet’s visit, the whole school was treated to an engaging performance of Josh’s poetry from his books, including ‘I Don’t Like Poetry,’ ‘Who Let the Words Out?’ and ‘Yapping Away,’ during assembly. This exciting display not only put a spring in our step but also brought smiles to everyone present.

Following this, Josh took the lead in two lively poetry workshops with Year 7 pupils. Guiding them through an exploration of the power of language, he helped the pupils plan and write poetry, focusing on themes such as ‘Home’ and ‘Colour.’ These workshops provided a valuable opportunity for pupils to contemplate language and tone, enriching their understanding of the art of poetry.

The boys looked at a selection of poems and were tasked to use these as inspiration to write a poem of their own on one of the given the themes. They were reminded that there is no ‘right’ or ‘wrong’ way to write a poem- an important, liberating notion that is clearly reflected in the varied and personal styles of the pieces they produced.

After the session, Joshua offered book signing in the library, creating an opportunity for further questions and conversation with the boys.

We hope Joshua’s visit inspired other year groups to get writing too.

Below, we share some of the fabulous poems that the year 7s created in their workshops with Josh. Explore more of our pupils’ inspired poetry on his blog, here.

Home.
The laughing of my sister
as dessert is served.
The roar of happiness from my father
when his team finally score.
The tutting of my mother as the dishes are left undone again.
Corny 1950s Christmas movies.
The broken chords my 1-year-old cousin smashes on the piano
while the sweet melody of a violin is drowned out.
My snail called Bob sliding across the dinner table.
The look on my grandma’s face.
Running barefoot with the dogs
through the rainforests of Africa.

Home.

My uncle thrashing us on FIFA.
Playing football with my cousin.
Sunday roasts with our family’s twist.
Warm apple pie dripping with custard.
Church on Sunday mornings.
Orchestra, a place where I can
Flow with the music.
These are places I’m always welcome.

by David

What is Home?
Browsing the internet
whilst wrapped tight in a blanket
Or maybe
Having dinner whilst laughing
together with family

Where is Home?

Lying on the sofa
watching a movie
Or maybe
In my room
playing computer games with the boys

Why is Home?

Because it is where
everything feels right
Or maybe
Because it is what
makes my day

Who is Home?
My dearest friend
Where I feel comfort

Or maybe
Family
who never fail to console me

When is Home?
At nighttime
when my head drifts off to Dreamland
Or maybe
In daytime
when the sun grins bright and warm.

by Youngmin

You are my skeleton, my go-to for help.
When times are tough, you hold me up.
You make my sister’s music bearable.
Your creaky floorboards resonate in my heart.
You are more than my house,
You are my home.

You are scratched up doors and sofas,
and the cat that constantly terrorises you.
You are the blood in my veins.
You hold my entire life in shape.
You are my home.

by Zamir

Home,
The place of all feelings,
Happiness, sadness, and confusion.
The comforting feeling of my bed,
slowly drifting off into deep rest.

Icy puddles,
long walks,
a wet dog jumping up at what were dry trousers.

The salty and fresh smell of buttery pasta after a long day at school.
Vivid, bright pictures on the wall.
The blue wallpaper in the hall.
The constant drilling from next door.
The annoyance and anger,
the excitement and anticipation of the cricket on TV,
constantly observing with my cousin.
My friends,
my family.

Home.
I will never let you go.

By Henry