Forbidden Fruit

See that fruit hanging ripe on that tree,
Flame red, glowing like a ruby,
I say its meant for me, I hear it calling to me.
Who says it’s forbidden,
Who says I shouldn’t try,
who says it’s juicy pleasure I should deny?
If curiosity is a crime, then I’m guilty.
for I want to touch,
taste something real,
not live in ignorant bliss,
no need for the serpents hiss,
I wish to explore, know more,
delve in,
let curiosity be my original sin.


File:Lucas Cranach the Elder-Adam and Eve 1533.jpg


Hurricane Sandy

There’s a hurricane heading up the east coast,
heading for DC and NYC,
it’s not Hurricane Barack, Romney, but Sandy.
his policies are deeds not words,
bringing the winds of change in his wake,
his HOPE is the hope of survival,
for the tempest to pass over.
Natures raw fury, wild,
timeless, elemental,
eternal, not just a four year term,
the ripping of power lines his inauguration ball..
he truly is the most powerful man of all!

Teaching- more than just dispensing facts

Today, Michael Gove has ‘raised the bar’ for prospective teachers by unveiling an overhaul of tests in a move he claimed would improve the status of the profession. Gove said the new “rigorous selection” for trainees would help raise standards in the classroom.

The move came as the education minister David Laws accused teachers of having “depressingly low expectations” for their pupils.

Under the newest proposals, to be introduced from next September, anyone who wants to train as a teacher will have to complete revamped tests in English and maths. A paper on verbal, numerical and abstract reasoning is also due to be introduced in the next few years. Calculators will not be allowed and the pass marks for both the English and maths tests will be raised again, the Department for Education

Also among the measures is a plan for candidates eventually needing to score the equivalent of a grade B at GCSE to pass.

Whilst I understand the need for knowledgable teachers, to me these measures miss something important, the need for a teacher to inspire. In the independent , an interview with the newly anointed Teacher of the year, Nathan Kemp, talked about the impact a male teacher can have in early years and primary education, dating that “it’s not just about giving children from single- parent families male role models. It’s about having that balance – growing up and socialising with both sexes.”

As someone who has had extensive experience in a primary school in anticipation for (hopefully) starting a PGCE course, I completely agree and it reaffirms that a teacher’s function isn’t just to teach facts, but to inspire and aid a child’s development socially. A twitter teacher friend of mine @mattbritland posed a question ‘If I got a C for Maths, does that mean I will not be a good teacher? Is this all that teaching comes down to?’. I think it’s a sad state of affairs when a blinkered view of teaching facts is all teaching amounts to.


A teacher doesn’t just impart facts,
Pythagoras theorem, advanced Maths,
like some glorified encyclopaedia, dry,
the when, how but not why

a teacher is meant to be a role model for those who have none,
from 9 to 3 you should be a superhero,
a wonder woman,
a superman.

A teacher is meant to inspire,
kindle a fire, a desire to learn,
to grow, to aspire, to dream,
that’s what being a teacher truly means.



I’m imperfect,
But that’s ok,
I don’t think the same way,
Football wasn’t a game I could play
This skinny lad with 4 eyes never really fitted in,
I preferred the book,
Preferred to express myself through colour, through the brush and pen.
I preferred to be strange,
Sticking out like a sore thumb,
Better than being ‘normal’, humdrum,
What is normal, what is perfect?
What is it to truly fit in anyway?
I’m imperfect,
But really, that’s ok.


Unemployed- poem

Here is a poem I wrote last week at a workshop ran by the very talented poet Dean Atta, called ‘Unemployment’ about experiences shared by many at present.


It’s like waiting for a bus to come,

waiting, waiting, but they never come.

You feel like a book yearning to be read but constantly being passed by.

“Sorry, not today,

Not enough experience” they say,

That’s when they even grace you with a reply,

Sending off a neverending trail of letters,

applications, cv’s, no satisfaction.

Treading water, constantly swaying, staying still.

It’s like you’re looked down on by society,

No compassion, no pity, the centre of lies,

You’re despised.

Being unemployed is a heavy yoke while waiting for a lighter one to come.