Across the school, Curwen’s budding poets have been working hard reading, learning, writing and performing poems as part of our annual Poetry Competition. Following performances to their class and in assembly, the winners worked with our drama specialist Mr Drayton to prepare their performances for a whole school assembly.
All the winners were awarded a certificate and a notebook and pencil so they can continue their poetic writing. We want to congratulate all our poets on their hard work!
Why every school should have a spoken word artist
Curwen's former spoken word artist Pete Bearder recently performed at TEDxBrixton and he was kind enough to mention our school.
Below you will find many exciting pictures and poems written and performed by our talented students.
To view more pictures please visit our Gallary here
Yasin - 6L
Spit fires, heavy guns and huge bombs being made, loading up and preparing to flight for our nation’s name, getting ready to go out…to war.
Bombs are raining, Men are dying, rivers of blood everywhere you go. Many lives being lost, Germans are falling, but Britain are already at the top, Germany are no match for who we are, Hitler already lost all his power and Britain live in peace.
We kneel beside their graves, and there they lie. They still will live in our hearts, and not be left lost or forgotten, the world cries for the ones we lost, their lives senselessly cut short, and too high of cost.
We weep for those, but no tears left to cry, for innocents now gone, no reasoning why.
We may ask for our loved one, and wonder where they could be, children will be lost, to unspeakable tragedy.
Today may that not happen again, and spend some time in thought, and ask our God of Mercy, to heal them with love and care Will this great tragedy ever start again?
Tamara - 3B
Bone sniffer, Cat chaser, Stick fetcher, People licker, Loud barker, Puppy dog maker, Land lover, Food eater, Cat hater, Lazy runner, Sheep rounder, Person protector, Tail chaser.
Ryan - 5DLR
Life in the factory was horrible…..terrible! The people who pay them think it’s hysterical. Some guy Bernado saved all the children, Thank god for him, it must be a miracle! Instead of school, all they have is gruel. Without educational, they’re in a bad situation.
When your hands get bloody, Too bad mate (that’s unlucky), Look around you they’re slaughterers. Maybe you’re a Victorian torturer.
The Mill by Leroy Francis-Robinson - 5S
Buzzing, whizzing, whooshing, crashing. Buzzing machinery, constantly spinning. Buzzing, whizzing, whooshing, crashing. The children are assaulted by the foreman if they don’t do enough work. A mill’s machine as hot as a cooker. The dusty and dirty orphans are dejected.
The Mill by Alexandra Campos Viegas - 5S
Banging, clanging, spinning, sufferering. Ear-splitting foreman is stern and strict. Banging, clanging, spinning, sufferering. Exhausted children can’t walk fast enough. Banging, clanging, spinning, sufferering. The mill is as cold as the South Pole. Deadly machines busily spinning, dejected children must slave away.
Life vs Death by Nawal - 6L
Everyone was paralysed in fear. The whole crowd started to hear. Bombs, bullets and one big blast. How long will this War last? Plop a tear fell from my cheek into the Ocean of sadness. Death rained from the sky whistling through the fearful air. Was it the end of the world-it’s not fair
Everyone was circling round. Bombs laughed their way to the ground. Hitler’s reign of terror came towards us. I wish someone had warned us. Plop a tear fell from my cheek into the ocean of sadness. Death, destruction, demolition, it’s all I’ve ever seen. It can’t be the end of the world-I rue the day the day they made this death machine.
Millions of people died. But still the government lied. They thought they were being kind. There was a blackout in my mind. Plop a tear fell from my cheek in the ocean of sadness. I can’t feel any emotion. Everyone drank the death potion.
From the minute the war started. Everyone darted. Toxic bombs dropping from the sky. All wondering when they’re going to die. Plop a tear fell from my cheek into the ocean of sadness. It’s not what it may seem. I just wish it was all a dream.
The Nile by Mutiur - 3A
The Nile stamped like a chair! The pyramid screamed like dogs, The sphinx slides like grass! The sand swims like a car! The slave sang like rain! The tomb has a watch like books. The pharaoh smashed like a cat!
The Victorian Times by Hubertas - 5W
Oh the Victorian times, Such horrible times they were. With people all over the street, Who din’t even have anything to eat. With houses of every size, who have large families crammed inside. Children searching the floor for shillings. Hatred in those times seemed to be always winning. With children in the workhouse treated like vermin. Who don’t even have anywhere to learn in. With punishments of every kind. The cane seemed to make up the master’s mind. And when the master is smirking, You know that danger is lurking. But the question still remains Of why those innocent people couldn’t live the same.
What am I? by Nelita - 3T
What is covered in spines? What comes out in the night? What rolls into a ball? What has weak eyesight? What has 4 legs? I’m covered in spines. I love the night. I can roll into a ball when I’m scared. I have very poor eyesight. And my favourite meal are insects. What am I?
South Hallsville School Death by Harry - 6L
Hallsville School, the one place of safety, The bus is the way to God, Strangers surrounding me, Children playing, unaware of the death; The mighty rumble of their bellies
Countless hours of death passing over my head. The loud, annoying noise of the planes, Surrounding the Earth like hawks, Distracting my game! Every one wonders if they will die?
Killing machines are continuous. The big bad bombs destroyed my home. It is just like money falling out of the sky. Disappearing when it hits the ground. Eradicating people’s homes.
The bombs, they came too quick! Just like lightning, I tried to stop it. But I couldn’t see it. So many lives lost to the bombs.
In the Basement at Hallsvile School by Deron - 6L
We were bored. No making phone calls. Crying loud. Nothing special found. An ice cube frozen. Just like the people who had chosen. To wait out the war. On the basement floor.
Planes are approaching. No other places to go. Coming fiercely. Nothing to protect us. Not even a bus. As we wait for the evil hand. As they fight for our land.
Bombs are dropping. No people talked. Sobbing quietly. Waiting for their death. While holding their breath. As we get hit. And that was as long as we thought that’s it.
People are dead. No people alive. Fading spritely. As a huge hole flooded the land. Which was 20 ft. deep. Alive people wept. As at the bottom, people slept.
The colour clanger by Wafa - 3B
The colour clanger, what A nosy bum. Sitting down with a big Grown, but so silently like, your dearest chum, but don’t get fooled by this. Believe his thumb as venomous as a little crumb, that can destroy global peace.
He is left alone, just like a pripity-prone, as blumsy as me. Grouking all the way home, like a cruel but sweet morg casting with his big old thumb.
He left the mothers to mock and the cockerels to clock, now with some venomous knees.
He done the same thing this time, niking likekty-lockety-lickety-like.
So kids beware of this monstrous nightmare, wth its evil, evil thumb, like a destroyful crumb, trying to take over the world!
What happens when I’m sick? by Cherie - 4SA
I’m sweating, I’m shaking, I’m coughing, I’m aching, I’m moaning, I’m whining, somehow I keep on crying. I can’t sleep, I can’t sit down, nd this gives me a big frown
my snot is slimy as goo, and I keep on going achoo achoo, I vomit here and there and this I can’t bear. My sick smells like rotten eggs and I can’t really feel my legs. I know being sick is the worst and if you’re sick you better see a nurse.
This is my world by Alyssa -4B
This is my world, when I wake up my alarm clock nags me, my head talks to me and the sun sings to me. At school I’m as shy as shadow. But at home I am as loud as an elephant!
This is my world, my eyes are as dark as chocolate chips, I’m annoying like a squawking parrot, I’m as funny as bird and thats they call me BIRDY!
The Creepy Abandoned House by Julia- 4SA
On a spooky night I hear a whisper come smoking my ears. It was the unseen ghost. It came spookily and wonkily. I saw it with my own big eyes. It was big and had very black eyes. It was called the deaf ghost. Coming, he lived in the abandoned house, where all creepy things come to live like skeletons blooming to live and animal heads. Trying to scare people away and dead blood. Everywhere that’s why it’s called the creepy abandoned house
My Identity by Giovanni - 4SA
I am as shy as a cloud playing peek-a-boo in the sky. As slow as a train crawling into the station. I wonder how good my hair is. I see tropical trees full of pineapples. I hear my belly whispering ‘Stop!’ when I walk. I want to be a funny nephew but I’m boring. I am a handsome happy Frenchman.
I pretend that I have a worried face. I feel like being a big still angry statue when I’m in trouble. I touch a wonderful piece of pineapple and gulp it all in one go. I worry when I’m shy. I cry when people call me a boring nephew. I am the kind of French cousin you will like.
I understand how handsome I am. I say I am a French Congolese. I dream all my football stats are good. I hope all my dreams and wishes come true.
I am Giovanni.