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I really enjoyed inventing and playing with the structure of my poem, envisioning the best way to convey my ideas by both weaving themes together and contrasting narrative threads. I was interested in conveying the clockwork nature that can be forced on relationships by habit and expectation, leading to a misunderstanding of love. The idea of readers drawing their own conclusions about my work is just as exciting as doing the work in the first place - it's a huge privilege to be published and to have an audience!
Christian, Secondary Winner, Revisioning Poetry 2020/21
My dad introduced me to Brian Cox and I have been interested in space ever since. I wanted to bring this feeling into my poem.
Lucy, Primary Winner, Revisioning Poetry 2020/21
Revisioning Poetry Anthology 2020/21 a competition for Bolton schools, organised by Bolton School Boys' Division and judged by Andrew McMillan © Bolton School & authors 2021
REVISIONING
POETRY
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Jordan (aged 16)
CONTENTS Foreword
Andrew McMillan
The Day the Moon Vanished
Lucy (aged 10)
Trench of Youth
Christian (aged 17)
The Disappearance of My Brain
Maisie (aged 10)
These Times
Disha (aged 11)
My Car
Mani (aged 8)
Untitled
Rebecca (aged 12)
Flower Politics
Ryan (aged 15)
Untitled
Tyler (aged 10)
Untitled
Adar (aged 9)
writing prompts and exercises
Muryum (aged 17)
Fo ewo d om And ew M M an photo credit: Urszula Soltys
Are you tired? I know I am. It’s exhausting isn’t it, living through history? At times like this, when everything feels very odd, and a bit scary, it’s really hard to know what to focus on. Something like poetry might seem a little bit inconsequential, or unimportant, but I’d argue that it’s just the opposite. If you think about a history lesson that you might have in school, yes, you might learn about a king perhaps, or different historical events and dates, but I bet you also read other people’s writing. You might read diary entries, or newspaper clippings, or maybe look at songs and stories to try and work out what it was like to live through a certain era. The poems that were written for the Revisioning Poetry competition are a contribution to the popular history that other children will study one day. They’ll read your work to try and imagine what it was like to live now. They’ll look at what the poems focus on, the details mentioned and the feelings that are evoked, in order to try and put themselves in our shoes. Everything written here is an addition to the collective memory bank for generations to come. In our lifetimes, it has perhaps never been more important to share and record our experiences. So, thank you! Thank you to the writers of all of the poems that I got to spend some time with. It was such a joy to be in the company of so much creativity. There was a real plurality of voice in the submissions too, as there should be, because nobody has experienced the last year in the same way. Many of the poems, perhaps inevitably, seem focussed on loss, on what might happen if our school or the sun or own house disappeared; poems like this seem to me to have, at their core, a deep concern for our planet which its great to see and which hopefully we can harness and do all we can to help the environment as we get older.
So many of the poems I read were simply having fun, too! At any time, and particularly now, that’s something to really remind ourselves of - writing and especially poetry should be fun! It was incredibly difficult to shortlist poems, and even harder to rank them, but I’ve had a go. If I was allowed to, I’d have given everyone a prize! Our winner from the primary competition is Lucy (St Catherine’s, Horwich). In her poem the moon disappears, and the world is transformed by this unique departure; the idea that the waves die, the great image of the ‘winking stars’, and the ending are all very powerful. Our winner from the secondary competition is Christian (Bolton School) for his poem ‘Trench of Youth’. Christian’s poem, takes a distinctive, original form - it is really three poems in one; each interleaved poem sheds new light on the others, creating a truly three-dimensional experience! Keep writing, keep telling your story. Only you have your voice, and it’s important that we hear it.
Abou
he Au ho
Andrew McMillan’s debut collection 'physical' was the first ever poetry collection to win The Guardian First Book Award. The collection also won the Fenton Aldeburgh First Collection Prize, a Somerset Maugham Award (2016), an Eric Gregory Award (2016) and a Northern Writers’ award (2014). In 2019 it was voted as one of the top 25 poetry books of the past 25 years by the Booksellers Association. His second collection, 'playtime', was published by Jonathan Cape in 2018; it was a Poetry Book Society Recommendation for Autumn 2018, a Poetry Book of the Month in both The Observer and The Telegraph, a Poetry Book of the Year in The Sunday Times and won the inaugural Polari Prize. Andrew's latest collection, 'pandemonium', will be released in May 2021. He is a senior lecturer at the Manchester Writing School at MMU and lives in Manchester.
The o na ompe on ha en es and n ed a an be ound a he end o he an ho o . Ha e a e n ou own s o !
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PRIMARY WINNER Lu (a ed 10) The Da he Moon an shed I remember the day the moon disappeared, Blackness was brought to the world, Teary faces around the block, Scared, confused and concerned. A few days passed, Months more, No sign, Even the winking stars had lost their sparkle. Now in a world with no moon, The night is no longer pretty, The waves are now dead, Because until something is gone we don’t Appreciate it.
Omer (aged 16)
SE ONDARY WINNER h s an (a ed 17) TREN H OF YOUTH WARNING READ BEFORE READING First read the poem as one. Next, read the even numbered lines. Finally, read the odd numbered lines.
Why do they love? They met with soft skin and clean minds, To hide their hate. In a tight packed corridor, it was awkward. Why do they hate? Through the bustle of bodies they found each other, To drive love away. They exchanged numbers. They are afraid to love. Their smiles of 20 were brilliant white, One day love hurts. They were two, cord connected, China hearts. A yearning since innocence's origin. Love is a flame bird. He loved her before he knew what love was. Ballet on a bonfire. As she desired him mistaking it for love, I watch her spark glance. They danced into the future, Flint and steel ride. Too fast, too vicious a pace, Love is made, I viewfrom the side. They reach an awkward question. Love without love. A question of loyalty. Impure satisfaction. For that future is an obstacle.
A close love, It tears them apart, Now so far. Scattered across the country, The cord stretches, Thrown in the trenches of love, Wraps to be a noose. A deal with the devil. Choked by his own love. ‘We take a break, just for now,' Strangled by his trust. ‘Then if we’re free, if we still love?' Dragged through the trenches. ‘Then we take things to the next stage.' Betrayed by emotion. ‘We will be friends for now.’ Blinded by her words. ‘We do what we want now,’ The cherry of her breath, ‘With whoever we want.’ Her smile still so young, ‘No strings attached, okay?’ They shared their last night. He trusted her words like those of a preacher. He woke alone. He got up from his knees, Seven years gone. He rose from the trenches, A book thrust open, He began to walk forward. Pages splayed open, The meeting place they had agreed, Could not comprehend, When they spoke those years ago. Knowledge blinds. He had been dutiful,
Knowledge is power. He could not have been, Power is pain. But he was, of course, Pain is love. For he was a fool, Love is gone. As he had loved what did not love him. He met longing. He tried to love lust, Longing at the coffee shop, Lust doesn’t love, Staring into the window. Lust only gives, Looking straight back at him, And she gave nothing. He waited patiently. The door would open, He would look each time. Some-body, but not his. She was giving herself, He sipped his coffee. Giving her body. He winced, it was hot. She was smiling and laughing, He smiled, Her hand grew tighter, He laughed. Her body dancing. He realised, Dancing with a stranger. She had forgotten. But hell, what would I know? What he wouldn’t give, I’m just a fly on the wall. To be a fly on her wall.
Serena (aged 18)
PRIMARY OMMENDED Ma s e (a ed 10) The D sappea an e o M B a n I saw the world every day, The sun beaming over my face, Heard the birds tweeting, Changed my pace every step of the way. Then it all ended. I just stopped. My mum and dad were puzzled, Called 999! They rushed over only to notice I was gone. I could see But couldn’t touch. I could see, But they couldn’t see me.
Cameron (aged 14)
SE ONDARY OMMENDED D sha (a ed 11) These T mes I have been worn by people many times now Doing my job which is keeping people safe Some people throw me away Some people keep me Some people change from me to another I am washed often because I am washable I feel those warm hands on me rubbing and washing every bit of me But some of my kind can’t be washed My owner made me She sewed me As I was made, I felt so alive and I am such a bright, lively colour Can you guess what this colour I am? I am used by my owner’s daughter who needs me at school She takes me to school every day, it’s a real adventure and it’s better than being sat, drying on a radiator after being washed She puts me on the other way, instead of seeing her mouth, I see the world around me It’s majestic, magical and adventurous, people and the school I am used for a reason A reason which is so important now I am used to protect people I am a Covid-19 mask
Izzy (Aged 16)
Lucas, aged 12
PRIMARY OMMENDED Man (a ed 8) MY AR My shiny, glistening gleaming car can shine, fly and even glide.
Every second the car goes faster, faster and even faster. It never loses power.
It glides over puddles with ease taking the corners at speed.
My shiny, glistening gleaming car can shine, fly and even glide.
That's my whip, my whip is sick, (sick means cool by the way).
Emily (aged 17)
SE ONDARY OMMENDED Rebe a (a ed 12) UNTITLED Life as a tree is difficult. To watch all precious nature and toxic fumes get entangled, As I stand here for decades, Helpless and alone, watching all of joyful memory fade. Our world is ruined. From top to bottom, it’s ruined, By people and their busy lives, Our world starts to die. From caverns humankind arose, To become wretched with woes, When will they learn? The world is not theirs to burn. Our world is not theirs alone, And though they may act, that all is known, From sweet smelling flowers, To things that devour, Still some remain unknown. But whether lone or not, we trees stand, Our world is prone to the dangers of man.
Serena (aged 18)
SE ONDARY OMMENDED R an (a ed 15) FLOWER POLITI S My Dear and I regard the likes of the fields, a Bureaucracy of flowers sit and pray for sweetness. and grace. and adoration. The Rose meet with The Dahlia they’re silent for a moment and We watch The Hydrangeas bathe in buttercups as they ask Us in for tea, their inferiors limbs swim in cups made for The Beautiful and We drink to the ending of wish weeds. and mint. and such weeds permeating Their Soil. blossoms drop or fruit, under the weight of laughing Orchids but when the lotus flower unfolded its wings from its own mud We looked in awe and the hydrangeas went into the tea that was drank by The Lotus Flower and We drink to the ending of hydrangeas. and wish weeds. and mint. and such weeds whose Only Purpose Is Tea.
The Dahlia chokes its dandelion footstool grinning in its own Elitism and when We leave the Governors of Roses, and Orchids, and Dahlias, and Lotus Flowers fall into a poppy seed sleep, and their Beauty is laid on a bed of asphodel. for they were neither sweet. nor graceful. nor adored. but hydrangeas. and wish weeds. and mint. and such weeds that Rot At The Roots
Victoria (aged 16)
Ella Rose (aged 16)
PRIMARY OMMENDED T e (a ed 10) UNTITLED if earth was gone there would be a black hole with everything dead could we still be alive? black hole black hole black hole is a bad place space is a beautuful place black hole black hole
PRIMARY OMMENDED Ada (a ed 9) UNTITLED I'm a resident here And my life has been turned Upside down I can't read your face like I used to Can't tell a smile from a frown It's that mask you wear It hides your face Plus it makes you hard to hear
I'm a little bit scared
Alice (aged 16)
WRITING
ACTIVITIES
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THE PRIMARY CHALLENGE
Think about something you see every day. You might think about something small (for example, your bedside lamp, a spoon) or it might be something big (a particular tree at the end of your street, your school building). Now, imagine that one day, it vanishes. Try to write about the disappearance . Alternatively, you could write about something you would like to replace the item you selected with.
RE-VISIONING POETRY Explore new ways of looking, seeing and imagining through poetry.
Think about something you see every day. It might be something small. It could be something big. Fill the tree with ideas of big, everyday things you might write about.
Fill the magnifying glass with ideas of small, everyday things you might write about.
Select one item. Now, imagine that one day, it vanishes!
What will change now the item has gone?
How do you feel about the disappearance?
What if the item had never been there in the first place?
What could you replace this item with? Record sensible and silly ideas.
What would happen if your selected item was swapped for something else?
Use the language of cause and effect to describe the impact of the swap.
Now it's time to bring all of your ideas together. Let's think about the ingredients for your poem.
Add details about the item you have chosen to write about here.
Summarise the impact of the disappearance or the replacement of the item, here.
How will your poem feel? What is its mood and why ?
THE SECONDARY CHALLENGE
Try to write a poem with an unusual point of view; maybe your poem will look at things slightly askew, maybe it will be a poem from the point of view of an inanimate object, perhaps it will present a kaleidoscope of lots of different views at once. Try to surprise yourself with your approach - move away from the idea that a poem is just a poet looking at someone or something and describing it.
RE-VISIONING POETRY Explore new ways of looking, seeing and imagining through poetry. WRITING EXERCISES
VANTAGE POINT: View the world from your geographical standpoint. Key terms: multi-directional awareness, sensory connections, mapping, prospect view, Romanticism, word-associations, words/ideas/experiences that are 'geographically distant' BEGINNING A POEM Choose a word - the first that pops into your head. Write it in the middle of a piece of paper. Then, as quickly as you can, jot down any words that you associate with it, making a circle around the original word. In a second circle, write down the words that you associate with the words in the first circle. Continue until you've filled up the entire page. Next, pick out two words that are 'geographically distant' from each other on the page and begin writing your poem. Carry out the same exercise, but instead of plotting words on the page, map yourself in connection with the world around you. Explore 'geographically distant' experiences.
VANTAGE POINT: Begin with disadvantage!
Our fathers
Key terms: fragmentation, dissonance, separation, modernism, Cubism, Futurism, Dada poetry, cento poetry, mercurial connections, concept grouping, synthesis, layering, palimpsest
PRESENTING DIFFERENT VIEWS AT ONCE Here are a few scattered lines from a poem by Robert Lowell. 'Children of Light'. Fill in the rest. Make a Dadaist poem using newspaper cut ups. Follow Tristan Tzara's instructions, here: https://www.moma.org/l earn/moma_learning/themes/ dada/word-play/ Juxtapose viewpoints from a range of different texts - prose fiction, poetry, journals, today's news items etc. Add your own voice to this collage of other voices.
gardens
of light
houses built
Keep writing, keep telling your story. Only you have your voice, and it’s important that we hear it.
And ew M M
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