This week our creative writing class explored two poems by Seamus Heaney and Philip Larkin.
Seamus Heaney’s Punishment poem evokes imagery of crime and injustice that has weaved through both neolithic times and Northern Ireland during the troubles.
Philip Larkin’s Next, Please poem references life through nautical imagery – suggesting we are always waiting for the next good thing in our lives or we worry that a ‘ship has sailed’.
Participants at the class then had 20 minutes to write their own poems taking inspiration from these themes. Here are their poems:
Degrees – Robert Philips
Gone are the days
Of stressless life
Never knowing if
You’re going to be
Caught in the way
Of the knife.
Ruthless people.
Con man or rat.
You can’t catch
Their eye
Or tip your hat.
Disrespect is a one-way street.
Cold, lonely, desolate.
Bodies beaten
To shades of night
Has never ended this sorry blight
It takes silence
To breed contempt.
An empty void
Of ignorance.
Protester of inactivity
Good men must stand
To stop this insanity.
Bitter sweet
Emotion not much
Space between love
And rage.
We need to consider
To turn a new page.
Waiting – Mo Hewitt
Hot and tired waiting for you.
Sitting like statues
Frozen, unable to move
Not wanting to miss you
Hope ever eternal for your arrival
Sun getting high
As I start to fly
Crick in my neck
Watching the corner
To see them come
Crossing and uncrossing
My legs I daren’t go in
Don’t want to lose this spot
Feeling a thirst
As time goes by
Sun starting to set
Feeling like a tyre
Flat and deflated
Night approaches
Hope all gone
Having to drag myself in
So disappointed no one came
Bye.
Feel so low started to cry.
Self Published – Gemma Ray
I jump chapters, flicking forwards
Eager to reveal the end.
There’s different paths to take,
As the story twists and bends.
I’m in control – the author
The writer of my life.
Skip a section, go back 10 steps
Avoiding all the strife.
Screw it up, start again,
Write in a pseudonym!
Always striving for more
Why can’t I be like him?
He knows his end, working back
From grave to life to cradle
Sometimes I feel he’s in reverse
Something I am not able.
Settled, happy, in routine
Waits for final salary pension
Stable, comfortable, secure
Causes me to feel such tension.
Mortgage, life path, responsibility
Like a lead weight round my claws
Dreams like wild wings clipped
And the sound of shutting doors.
So time to pen a second draft
Protagonists face to face in trust
Weave strengths within the story
Turn weaknesses to dust
Flicking forwards, referencing back
There’s no right or wrong
Each person’s story is unique
Some journeys short, some long
Remove the shackle from the foot
Lay blame right by the door
Open the wings, look to the sky
Poise. Now prepare to soar.
Fly through themes and thoughts
Of life, death, joy and grief
Please, write your own damn story!
(But pen it with self belief).
