KS3 Wider Reading Poetry - IslingtonCS

[Pages:38]KS3 Wider Reading

Poetry

Contents

1.Listen Mr Oxford Don (John Agard) 2.Checking Out Me History (John Agard) 3.Flag (John Agard) 4.Real (Kingslee James McLean Daley (Akala) 5.Sari (Moniza Alivi) 6.Still I Rise (Maya Angelou) 7.Caged Bird (Maya Angelou) 8.Dear Hearing World (Raymond Antrobus) 9.I come from (Dean Atta) 10.Directions (Inua Ellams) 11.I, Too (Langston Hughes) 12.Old Tongue (Jackie Kay) 13.Brian (Grace Nichols) 14.Sleeping out (Grace Nichols) 15.Like a beacon (Grace Nichols) 16.Hurricane Hits England (Grace Nichols) 17.Praise song for my mother (Grace Nichols) 18.The Law Concerning Mermaids (Kei Miller) 19.This Dog (Rabindranath Tagore) 20.The Fist (Derek Walcott) 21.Be Nobody's Darling (Alice Walker) 22.Library Ology ? (Benjamin Zephaniah) 23.No problem- (Benjamin Zephaniah) 24.Dis Poetry (Benjamin Zephaniah) 25.The British (Benjamin Zephaniah)

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Checking out me history

Dem tell me Dem tell me Wha dem want to tell me Bandage up me eye with me own history Blind me to my own identity Dem tell me bout 1066 and all dat dem tell me bout Dick Whittington and he cat But Touissant L'Ouverture no dem never tell me bout dat

Toussaint a slave with vision lick back Napoleon battalion and first Black Republic born Toussaint de thorn to de French Toussaint de beacon of de Haitian Revolution

Dem tell me bout de man who discover de balloon and de cow who jump over de moon Dem tell me bout de dish run away with de spoon but dem never tell me bout Nanny de maroon

Nanny see-far woman of mountain dream fire-woman struggle hopeful stream to freedom river

Dem tell me bout Lord Nelson and Waterloo but dem never tell me bout Shaka de great Zulu Dem tell me bout Columbus and 1492 but what happen to de Caribs and de Arawaks too

Dem tell me bout Florence Nightingale and she lamp and how Robin Hood used to camp Dem tell me bout ole King Cole was a merry ole soul but dem never tell me bout Mary Seacole

From Jamaica she travel far to the Crimean War she volunteer to go and even when de British said no she still brave the Russian snow a healing star among the wounded a yellow sunrise to the dying

Dem tell me Dem tell me wha dem want to tell me But now I checking out me own history I carving out me identity

John Agard

Flag

What's that fluttering in the breeze? It's just a piece of cloth that brings a nation to its knees.

What's that unfurling from a pole? It's just a piece of cloth That makes the guts of men grow bold.

What's that rising over the tent? It's just a piece of cloth that dares the coward to relent.

What's that flying across a field? It's just a piece of cloth that will outlive the blood you bleed.

How can I possess such a cloth? Just ask for a flag my friend. Then blind your conscience to the end. John Agard

Listen Mr. Oxford Don

Me not no Oxford don me a simple immigrant from Clapham Common I didn't graduate I immigrate

But listen Mr Oxford don I'm a man on de run and a man on de run is a dangerous one

I ent have no gun I ent have no knife but mugging de Queen's English is the story of my life

I don't need no axe to split/ up yu syntax I don't need no hammer to mash/ up yu grammar

I warning you Mr. Oxford don I'm a wanted man and a wanted man is a dangerous one

Dem accuse me of assault on de Oxford dictionary/ imagine a concise peaceful man like me/ dem want me to serve time for inciting rhyme to riot but I tekking it quiet down here in Clapham Common

I'm not violent man Mr. Oxford don I only armed wit mih human breath but human breath is a dangerous weapon

So mek dem send one big word after me I ent serving no jail sentence I slashing suffix in self-defence I bashing future wit present tense and if necessary

I making de Queen's English accessory/ to my offence

John Agard

Real

Not victory, nor slaughter The house of pain, nor pains of laughter Not bombs, nor the dust that was the village Not mansion, nor mud-hut, palace or cardboard sheet Not silk shawl or cotton canvas, Not car, nor carriage All is borne from no-thing Therefore nothing is all that is real The senses are but confusions illusion A compass of false conclusion Ears house some vibrations as cries or music Yet others pass undetected Eyes conclude colour, where some light is reflected Yet most light passes the eye, undetected Noses upturn at the stench of poverty But delight in the rich stink of robbery Hands hold solid, sure of shape Yet that same collection of atoms Is just empty space Tongues taste terrible bitterness where sweet cures reside And delight in deliciousness where pernicious poisons hide. What is real?

Kingslee James McLean Daley (Akala)

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