#11. Roses are red, violets are blue.

It's been four months. I'm so sorry. I don't know how to make it up to you but I will try, therefore, if you used to keep up to date with this blog and feel cheated as I've abandoned you for too long, I will take personal requests for poems. That's right, if you want a personal poem from the Queen of Language herself, just request one and I will present you with a personalised rhyming sensation. It'll be worth LOTS of money one day. Trust.

So, this post takes on the dreaded topic of poetry. Don't cry, don't run away. I understand that poetry to you probably means Presents From My Aunts In Pakistan and searching for so many metaphors your eyes start to bleed. I'm sorry that this generation of teaching happened to you. I'm sorry that you now hear the word "simile" and want to die. I'm going to try to change your mind. It may not happen, it probably won't but all I can do is try.

I used to hate poetry with a passion. I used to think I couldn't write poetry because I couldn't rhyme and I wasn't emotionally damaged enough to even contemplate something along the lines of Carol Ann Duffy. I also used to be sure that poetry was for people who didn't have friends and couldn't afford counselling. Or on the other hand, it was for people so posh and pretentious that I couldn't possibly enjoy it because my name isn't double barrelled and I didn't get a pony for my fifth birthday. However, I now think poetry is sexy. I really do. I'm not talking Hugh Jackman sexy, I'm talking Stephen Fry sexy. Poetry is linguistic foreplay.

I started teaching poetry in October and I did it wrong. I'm sorry Year 9s, it's true. I asked them to search for the metaphors and the similes and the enjambment, when actually, I should have been asking "why did the poet write this?" and "how does it make you feel?". We (as a teaching force and a nation) are so obsessed with results and levels that we force intelligence upon children. "You will learn metaphors and you will search for them." This is wrong and makes me cry. Poets don't write poems so that Year 9s can write an essay about the shape on the page or the number of rhyming couplets. Poets write poems because they have something to say. Poets write poems because they feel something and they want you to feel something. But, we mustn't forget, poets something write poems because they sound good.

I'm changing my teaching tact and I'm going to try and inject some of the joy back into poetry. Emphasis on the try. I can't change the world but I can try to stop poetry driven depression. I am offering you the chance to try it for yourself. Here are two rules. Firstly, poetry doesn't have to rhyme, secondly, poetry doesn't have to make sense.

Here's a starting point for you. I want you to fill in the blanks. Well I say blanks, I mean where I put "NOUN" you put an actual noun like "cheese" or "blanket".

I will be your friend until the last NOUN VERB from the last NOUN

Until the last NOUN VERB from the last NOUN

I will be your friend until the last NOUN VERB from the last NOUN

Until the last NOUN VERB from the last NOUN

You are my friend because you make me VERB like a NOUN

You are my friend because you make me ???

Here's my attempt  at filling in the blanks....

I will be your friend until the last song sings from the last bird

Until the last raindrop falls from the last cloud

I will be your friend until the last creme egg is bought from the last Tesco

Until the last light shines from the last star

You are my friend because you make me laugh like a loon

You are my friend because you make me really good coffee.

Does it rhyme? No. Does it make sense? Kind of. Does it mean something? Yes. Does it make you feel something? Probably. Is it a poem? Yes. Why? Because I said so. I haven't changed the world but maybe now you can attempt your own poem. If not, don't worry. I won't hate you but maybe you'll stop hating poetry.

Give poetry a chance. It wants to be your friend.

Over and out.