Task 29

Part 1

If only I could live just by my rules

I know it's wrong but why does it feel right

At first I thought you really were the one
But now I know it wasn't meant to be

It's not my fault you left without Goodbye

You should have thought before you did the deed

Shut up you stupid little girl shut up

It doesn't have to end like this you know

A life where you're not here is much like death,
And dying by your side is much like life.

There really is no point in crying now
What's done is done, no tears can bring him back

My daughter's gone.I have no will to live

Why must we always have to scrap or fight
There's other ways to get your point across.

My heart was frozen by the sight of you,
Now ice cold water runs within my veins.

All the work I did has turned to dust

No power on this earth can break my dreams,
However strong and mighty it may be.

Part 2

Outside the window
The shining sun embraces all her slaves
With open arms.I wish I was outside.

What I'd like to eat
Well, I would like to have a chocolate cake
But Mum insists I have some fruit instead.

A recent dream
This time the horror was to real to bare
I swear I will not ever sleep again.

Annoying tasks overdue
My wrists about to break but I cannot
Afford to stop;stop and I'll be doomed

My body
A stupid little joke has turned to this,
I may not walk,ever again.

task 29

My shed is far to full to keep my bike.

A small smile can be known as charity.

I really should not be rude in class.
but sir and miss always send me out

A beutifuly desighned big pink ball dress.

If Maryam and suhaib were good friends.
i reckon it would be a good miricale

The boy you want is always at his mums.

My life without a mum would be so sad.

Why would i go to the park with you two.

Please do not come to beach with uslot.

You cant join our band sorry were rock squared.

when i went to the beach twenty years
ago.i asked my mum to stay in the water

When i asked for new friends you hated me.

I i could be your best friend but you did not,
want me to stay at your house today

The boy is crying-i know how he feels

I have a good house but my friend does not.

1)Outside the window
the cloud cries its force is fast
like lightning.i smile

2)what id like to eat
no macaronie in jamaica
but instead they have
sweet potato.its lovely

3)A recent dream
it was so scary the fear
grabbed my heart and
squeezed.

4)Annoying tasks over due
the homework was so hard
i did'nt do it but guess the
concequence.

5)My body
my nose is blocked.the
mucas is just there
i really hate it.


By Maryam Abdulghaffar

Part 1

1. The dreams I have had have all been of you.


2. The music that you played to me was great.


3. Your beautiful face swims around my mind.


4. Dreams of you are so unbelievable.


5. The thought of you never seems to leave me.


6. The taste of that meal will never leave my lips.


7. The sound of the waves as they come crashing.


8. The smile you gave me lightened my day


9. I don't believe the energy he has.


10. I completely forgot about this task.


11. He stood there blocking the sun from my face.


12. I dream of the day we are together.


13. I love you as much as anyone can.


14. That chocolate cake was so beautiful.


15. I loved you for everything you gave me.


16. You are only wanted for your money.


17. He was as ugly as an chimpanzee.


18. Those friends of mine I will love forever.


19. I will always be there for all of them.


20. I can't imagine life without all of them.

Part 2

Outside the window
I watch you every day. And each day
I wonder why you're there. And who you are.

What I'd like to eat
A rich chocolate cake. With sauce that melts
In your mouth. As the taste touches your lips.

A recent dream
You was standing there. As if waiting for
Me. But when I turned away you was gone.

Annoying tasks overdue.
The task sits there. As if waiting for me
To complete it. But then i forget too.

My body.
The long bones that builds my skeleton. The
Thing that helps me stand. And to help me move

Task 29; The Truth

The truth is never far behind a lie,
Since only lies can show what truths we hide.
You say you're sorry, but I know you're not.
Relieved and grateful you're the one who's safe.
She likes to hide reality away,
Because she dares not face it by herself.
She hides the stick beneath her pillow so,
The life within her doesn't realise.
The cold blue tears sprint down her tired sweet face,
Because the truth just snatched her dreams away.
She didn't study hard enough before,
Her tests; the keys to her Pandora's Box.
He's gone, he's gone forever, gone for good.
No note, no apology, no not one.
He's flown away, grown wings and taken off.
He's dead. Eternally he's left the joint.
The truth is there to bring you down to earth.
Since lies will only last a certain time
Before they come like tidal waves, that smash
And crumble everything beneath their tides.

1. Outside the window
A car whizzed by, not knowing Eddie's by
The corner. All he wanted was his ball.

2. What I'd like to eat
A sweet ice cream with flakes on top. Just don't
Put nuts please, I have allergies you see.

3. A recent dream
She froze time. Platform nine became this cold
And frightening place. Time was running out.

4. Annoying tasks overdue
The essay screamed my name. I turned around
To witness avalanches cascading.

5. My body
My fingers tapped away. Who knew that they
Could work so fast producing such fast art?

Champion

A Champions hard work never really ends
Most Runners-up will always reach the peak
But both will use performance enhancers,
All work and dedication can pay off
You cannot bear the shame of failing now
Will feelings be the reaper that ends them?
A person hopes to god that they do well
True meanings of skill are put to the test,
They feel the pain and suffer the effects,
Achievement’s when a real champion born,
One injury, one single injury
Is all it takes to ruin all that work,
The bitter aftertaste of pain, begins,
The whirlpool of confusion and delay,
The mind- the soul are all becoming low,
Each drop of perspiration goes to waste,
As it dries so too does my mind and soul
Time to reflect upon careers and life.


Outside the Window
A Harlot stands outside the churches wall
Do holy men dare wonder or to drool?

What I’d like to eat
I see it glistening in the sun’s delight
I’ve got to have that Mars Bar and the Sprite.

3. A Recent Dream
Headlamps of it illuminate my eyes
I’ve but a matter of seconds to avoid it

4. Annoying tasks overdue
My clear head fills with panic and pure fear
My hands an dfeet are frozen as it nears

5. My body
My nose is dripping with each breath I draw
My lungs demand more oxygen, much more.

Task 29: A New Year

I was struggling to think of an apt image to head this post, and so I went for this instead.
My daughter's second name is Kavita (which is the Hindi for POEM)...

So here we are. The first task of the new academic year. And to those of you new to the workshop - either as moderators or as students - welcome to wordvoodoo.

Much of this term is going to return to poetry, on the assumption that it is there that we can all refine our writing skills most effectively, before we apply them to prose and drama later in the year. There is something about the discipline and exactitude poetry can demand that is perfect training ground for the young writer.

But first, a word about rules. Over the next few weeks, we will be mastering a number of different poetic principles and conventions - rules, really. But this is NOT to say that I think good writing is rule-bound. On the contrary, some of the best writing breaks the rules on a regular basis, but it does so DELIBERATELY and for a REASON. And the only way to learn how to break the rules deliberately and for a reason is to learn how to stick to them first. Many of the best and most original (and anarchic) musicians, artists, writers only attained that flair through learning the rules first of all.

Last year, we did a lot of work on IAMBs and IAMBIC METER. Whilst some of you were better at this than others, I don't think ANY of you mastered it completely; and I think I moved on too quickly to all the other types of feet for many of you really to keep up. So, as you've probably guessed by now, it's back to the IAMB.

Before I explain to you again what an IAMB is, you need to understand three other things: syllables; stress; and feet.

A SYLLABLE is, essentially, the building block of sound within any word/sentence. At primary school, you may have learnt syllables by clapping along to a word. For example:

• the word syllable has 3 syllables: SYL-LA-BLE
• the word example has 3 also: EX-AM-PLE

Now look at those two words and say them aloud. As you do so, you will find yourself giving emphasis or STRESS to some syllables and not to others. For example:

• the word syllable naturally has a stress on the 1st syllable: SYL-la-ble
• to stress the 2nd syllable would sound strange and wrong: syl-LA-ble
• although the adjective from this noun WOULD have the second syllable stressed: syllabic (syl-LA-bic)
• as for the 3rd syllable, I guess we could say it is stressed (SYL-la-BLE) or unstressed (SYL-la-ble) - and such flexibility will prove really helpful when writing our poetry.

Now, on your own, write down, on a piece of paper, 10 different polysyllabic (i.e. more than one syllable) words at random. Then work out which syllable(s) within each one is stressed. When we are annotating poetry, we would usually put a / sign above each stressed syllable and a U sign above each unstressed one.

Hopefully, now, you understand SYLLABLES and how they are STRESSED (or unstressed).

So what is a FOOT?

Any of you for whom music makes you want to dance, sing in the shower, or simply tap your fingers or foot (i.e. ALL of you) will have some understanding of the concept of a BEAT. Dance without sticking to the beat and you look silly; dance TO the beat, and (unless you are me) you can look cool.

Well, poetry, also, has a beat - and, once you 'tune into' it, you will find it just as powerful and contagious as any song on your MP3 player. In poetry, each line consists of a number of beats - but, in poetry, we call them FEET.

Look at this famous nursery rhyme:

Mary had a little lamb
Its fleece was white as snow
And everywhere that Mary went
Her lamb was sure to go

If you read this out loud, you will find yourself stressing certain syllables, and, in doing so, you are identifying the beat (and therefore the FEET) of the poem. Here it is again, but with the stressed syllables in capitals:

MA-ry HAD a LIT-tle LAMB
its FLEECE was WHITE as SNOW
and EVE-ry-WHERE that MA-ry WENT
her LAMB was SURE to GO

Now look at the feet (beats). See how there are 4 feet in lines 1 and 3, and 3 feet in lines 2 and 4. How about this famous line by William Wordsworth:

I wandered lonely as a cloud

Or, broken down:

i WAN-dered LONE-ly AS a CLOUD

Again, 4 feet.

Hopefully, now, you have some understanding, therefore, of SYLLABLES, STRESS and FEET.

Now, in poetry, there are different types of foot. To confuse you, here are some of them:
anapest (anapestic meter) = UU/ (dee-dee-DUM)
spondee (spondaic meter) = /UU (DUM-dee-dee)
trochee (trochaic meter) = /U (DUM-dee)

But the simplest (and most common) of all is:
the iamb (iambic meter) = U/ (dee-DUM)

All except one of the feet in the nursery rhyme above is iambic (apart from the first foot, which is a half-iamb - the DUM without the dee); all four feet in Wordsworth's line are iambic too.

Some of you, in fact, have iambic names: na-JAF, a-NIQ-a, me-LIS-sa.

And this last example leads me to my first WARNING. Just because an iambic foot has two syllables, does NOT mean that iambic verse can only consist of TWO-syllable words.
Look at this, for instance:

Melissa is intelligence itself
[me-LIS-sa IS in-TEL-li-GENCE it-SELF]

See how I have built into that line 1-, 2-, 3- and even 4-syllable words, whilst still sticking to the iambic rhythm.

If you are still unclear about all this, you could do a lot worse than have a look at some of the really early tasks from last year (e.g. 2, 3, 4, 5 and 17). Also, I have been browsing through a fantastic little book this weekend all about poetic rhythm and meter. It's called 'The Ode Less Travelled', and it is written, in a completely accessible and light-hearted style, by the comedian Stephen Fry. You might want to mention it, in passing, to your parents each morning and see if they get the hint and buy it for you. :)

Now, your task for this week comes in two parts, both of which will require you to write in iambic PENTAMETER. This might sound like a complicated word, but actually, just like a PENTAGON is a shape with 5 sides, so a pentameter is a line with 5 feet. And, this week, you do NOT have to rhyme!

Part One

First of all, I just want you to write some iambic pentameters for me. 20 lines, in fact.

They do NOT need to rhyme.

They do NOT need to have anything in common with each other.

They do NOT need to be profound or complicated.

Just write about the first things that come into your mind - just make sure you do so in 5 iambic feet.

I don't mind if you write 20 single (and unrelated) lines, or if some of them are pairs of lines. Just let it flow, and don't try to THINK about it too much.

Here is my attempt, just to give you an idea of what I mean:

My bed is far too warm to leave behind.

A little child is lost within the man

I really should not eat so much ice cream,
But Ben and Jerry call me from the tub.

A poor resigned facsimile of joy

If chocolate cake were healthy I'd be fine.
I reckon I could manage five-a-day

The tin you want is always at the back

My life without an iphone is bereft

If only I could tell her how I felt

It comes in waves and takes me by surprise

There's nothing you can do to ease my pain

When I was six I lost the right to smile
You'd think by thirty four I'd have it back

It's finished: don't return it to the fridge

Five thirty isn't morning, it is night.
So please go back to bed and let me sleep.

The sky is crying - I know how it feels

A loyal friend loves ugliness as well

You have to start to THINK iambically

Your moderators will look closely at each one and help you work out how closely you have adhered to iambic pentameters throughout. They will also comment on any particular original ideas, words or phrases, and they will help you explore ways to make some of your lines even more effective.

--------------

What we have worked on so far is individual lines of iambic pentameter - and, even where we have produced pairs of lines, there is still a very obvious break at the end of each one.

The term for this type of line is END-STOPPED. Lots of poetry is written in this way, leaving each separate line kind of self-sufficient, even if it relates in some ways to those before and after it.

END-STOPPED poetry is fine. Honestly. It does the job, and, often, it can be extremely powerful. In fact, some of the best lines of poetry ever written have been end-stopped.

But it can also be a little tedious, a touch restrictive and, sometimes, rather dry. So, with the second part of your task this week, you are going to learn and practise two techniques to free up your iambic verse: CAESURA and ENJAMBEMENT.

A caesura is a strong, deliberate break or pause WITHIN a line of poetry. Sometimes it might be marked only with a comma, but often it will be shown by a semi-colon, a colon or even a full stop. However it is written in, it consists of exactly the same sort of pause we are used to hearing at the END of a line, but right in the middle of a line instead.

Here are some examples:

• I love to go to school; it is my home.
• I seem to have upset you. I will go.
• Some people tell the truth, whilst others lie.

Enjambement is when the entire meaning of a line of poetry runs on to the next, often without even any punctuation whatsoever. The word comes from the French, enjamber (meaning to stride). When enjambement is used, the line makes no sense whatsoever without the line that follows it.

Here is an example:

I cry. I shake. You take me underneath
Your wing. Newborn, I wrap myself within
The warmth of everything you are, my friend.

See how each line is completely dependent on the one before and/or after it.
Notice also how I have still stuck to the rhythm and structure of the iambic pentameter throughout.

And look how, in using enjambement, it becomes even easier to incorporate caesuras too.

Part Two

The second part of your task requires you to write a series of couplets (paired lines), each in iambic pentameter, and each making maximum use of caesura and enjambement.

The themes for this task I have borrowed from Stephen Fry's book, because I love the variety and accessiblity of them and I hope you will too. So I would like you to write 5 couplets, one under each of the following titles/headings:

1. Outside the window
2. What I'd like to eat
3. A recent dream
4. Annoying tasks overdue
5. My body

Your moderators will look here very closely not only at your use of iambic pentameter, but also at your mastery of caesura and emjambement. In addition, they will also, hopefully, be able to identify any particularly original phrases and profound ideas within what you have written. So, if you find that the rules I have set become easy, why not set yourself the additional challenge of sneaking in some stylish metaphors or similes, some alliteration or even some rhyme.

As always, here is my attempt:

1. Outside the window
The willow weeps. Its sombre branches hang
Like mourners at a funeral. I cry.

2. What I'd like to eat
No crunchies in Australia. Instead
They have the Violet Crumble: it's divine.

3. A recent dream
I swear I was awake. The terror gripped
Me hard with all the certitude of truth.

4. Annoying tasks overdue
The bookshelf bursts its banks; it inundates
Each table, worktop, chair with homeless tomes.

5. My body
My tonsils are defunct. A moonscape scarred
By childhood craters of disease, they suck!

Good luck! I recognise this is a pretty meaty task, and each part carries many challenges. But I thought it would be a great opportunity for you all to kickstart the new year with a bang. :)

All submissions MUST be posted by MIDNIGHT on Saturday 11th October. To miss your FIRST deadline would be VERY serious indeed.

I have asked your moderators to log on any time during the subsequent week to post their comments.

If any of you get stuck, you are welcome to email me during the week. In addition, I will make myself available Monday and Tuesday lunchtimes for anyone who wants some one-to-one support. :)

Seeing Red (Leyton Orient Day)

Red. A colour associated with love; yet it shows no relevance whatsoever to love: an indescribable emotion. Violence, fierceness and blood, yeah right, that's enough romance needed to push you over the edge you call life. Violence is red, calmness is blue, yet how does romance, become red too? If roses represent love, yet a sort of hate at the same time, then why are they considered harmess? Love is a guilty pleasure: you hate that you love it. So what does this mean? Is love red?

He used to give me roses; I loved them like I loved him, until an unexpected prick of a thorn changed it all, with pure red blood seeping from my fingers like melting ice cream on a hot summers day. I hadn't expected to lose blood over a rose, then again I hadn't expected to lose love for him either. The more roses I gained, the more blood I lost, the more love I lost simultaneously. It was over before my hands were completely covered in little love cuts.

It wasn't long before his tanned, muscular arms were around another woman. Tall yet slender, brown hair flowing down her toned back like curtains draping over double glazed windows. Gosh. What did he see in her? Except for the fact she was more or less perfect or unbelievably enviably beautiful, she was nothing. She WAS beautiful though, he knew it. They all did. They way he would look her in the eye and shower her with those lovely roses of heartbreak and pain. Oh, how I missed that. Immediately my eyes inspected her long slim fingers, a pebple of shiny rock instantly cathing my attention. Wow, they were serious. Yet, that wasn't what surprised me. No. Her left hand embellished in love, with love cuts almost covering the pale surface.

That was then. If he could move on, I didn't see why I shouldn't. A few weeks later I was back at the same restaurant where I had seen them together and where he had taken me on our first date. Yet I was with the NEW man of my dreams, in my red dress, once again. My love cuts had been patched up by then; my heart sewn together like ripped jeans.

"Elizabeth, this is for you". He took out a ruby red rose from the cheap plastic vase the restaurant had no nerve of misplacing on our table. I was seeing red all over again. From this day forth I've been seeing red. I guess it's true what they say. Love cuts.