For me the most enjoyable modules we deliver on the English curriculum are the poetry ones because they’re a good way for students to play around with language and begin understanding inference not to mention the techniques they will need to espouse for their exams. Of the poets chosen by whoever it is that decides what and who we should be teaching, Wilfred Owen (who would have been a punk poet had he lived in the late 1970’s – imagine ‘Dulce et Decorum Est’ spat out by Johnny Rotten – it works!) and Simon Armitage, a contemporary British writer, are my absolute favourites. I’ve been fortunate enough to see the latter in performance. If he turns up at a venue near you, crawl over broken glass to get a ticket – it’ll be worth it.
Here’s an example of his work, an extract from a longer poem which I’ve posted to commemorate today’s sadly memorable, eponymous date. When this was first released in its entirety in 2005, Armitage was criticised by some – unfairly, in my opinion. See what you think.
Out of the Blue
You have picked me out.
Through a distant shot of a building burning
you have noticed now
that a white cotton shirt is twirling, turning.
In fact I am waving, waving.
Small in the clouds, but waving, waving.
Does anyone see
a soul worth saving?
So when will you come?
Do you think you are watching, watching
a man shaking crumbs
or pegging out washing?
I am trying and trying.
The heat behind me is bullying, driving,
but the white of surrender is not yet flying.
I am not at the point of leaving, diving.
A bird goes by.
The depth is appalling. Appalling
that others like me
should be wind-milling, wheeling, spiralling, falling.
Are your eyes believing,
believing
that here in the gills
I am still breathing.
But tiring, tiring.
Sirens below are wailing, firing.
My arm is numb and my nerves are sagging.
Do you see me, my love. I am failing, flagging.
*****************************************
Click here if you’d like to watch a short clip of Simon Armitage reading his poem.
Never heard of him, but I figured it would be good as you’d already mentioned Owen as a fave. I did Owen for A level and could recite loads of his work at the time, esp Dulce. Can still manage a few lines (the end obviously) nearly 40 years later.
Why the criticism of Armitage? What’s wrong with the poem? But I suppose f one likes Owen’s brutal honesty of WW1 why would an evocative depiction of TT offend?
PS I see Armitage is a fine Yorkshire product 🙂 and was born in Marsden. I stayed at the youth hostel there one New Year’s Eve, it was a former co-op as I recall. Undoubtedly closed by now.
Well isn’t that the sign of how we were all taught back then? I have swathes of poetry and quotes from the plays we studied still racking around in my brain. These days they don’t have to memorise anything because they take their text books into the exam.
Out of the Blue is a lengthy poem that was originally broadcast in its entrirety on Channel Five in 2005. It won the Royal Television Society Documentary Award. The criticism came mainly from the general public where the feeling was that it was too long and too graphic. What do they know, anyway? There are extracts from it available on You Tube, narrated by Rufus Sewell. Needs a bit of time set aside if you’re interested!
They take text books into the exam?
Swoons. Takes fan. Falls on sofa. No wonder the world is falling apart.
Stunned. Just stunned. So they don’t memorise Owen, Keats, Wordsworth, Hughes, Owen, or even text from Middlemarch?
I feel like a dinosaur. And why do they not have to memorise it might I ask? I suppose they take the periodic table into chemistry exams, and a nice little history book so they don’t have to remember that Hadrians wall was 82 miles long, starting at Wallsend and ending in Carlisle etc etc.
Just. Sigh.
Yes, afraid so. Not for history though. No memorising at all – current thinking is that it isn’t true learning. We don’t teach the times tables by rote either, consequently most kids don’t know them. But of course, of the random ones they do know, they can apply them to anything else. In theory.
Lists of subject relevant spellings aren’t learned by regular testing either. Hence we come back to oft mis-spelled words such as separate. Hey, we’ve been here before recently, or is this déjà vu?
Of course not. Why would memorising develop the brain?
No two times two is four, two times three is six? Terrible. I joke not. Seven eights was my bugbear, along with nine sixes. But still, I learned them in my little blue book. And just why is not being able to compute in the head of no value? I don’t want to know.
Ys, it’s déjà vu on my blog probably where I often discuss it with philosopher mouse of the hedge.
One of my blog pals recently pointed out that the average IQ continues to decline. I wonder why.
My best response to teaching poetry for 40 years was from a very normal, average student. She said,”I like poetry. It puts words to my thoughts.”
Brilliant! I love that!
Thanks for sharing this beautiful poem on a day I know I’ll never forget.
My parents were playing golf on a course close to the Pentagon when American Flight 77 crashed. My mother remembers saying to my father, “That plane is so low.” And then they heard the explosion. My father worked his entire career at the Pentagon and he lost a few friends that day.
I’m glad you liked the poem, Jill. I find it very moving and always enjoy the discussion it provokes when we study it.
None of us will forget that date – we know where we were and what we were doing when we heard the news. As the tragedy unfolded so graphically before our eyes on our screens, the realisation that things would never be quite the same again, and the global implications of such an act began to sink in. It must have been very frightening for your parents to be that close, and then to realise what they had just witnessed.
Wow, what an affecting poem. Very dramatic. Thanks for sharing.
You’re welcome – I’m glad you liked it. There’s a lot in it for a class to pick to pieces and it generally sparks off a good discussion.
I cannot tell you why I do not go out of my way to read poetry. For that matter, I have little time for leisure reading of any sort. Having admitted to these bad practices, I do so enjoy it when I am presented with a piece to read. Such as he one you offer here. You may have read, in some of my own posts, that I was always the one who didn’t ‘get it,’ when poetry was read in both high school and in college. I like to think that, as I get older, perhaps I am a bit more ‘chill,’ ‘chill’ enough to allow me to forget about the black and the white and read … just a bit of what’s between those lines. Self-analysis aside, wonderful lines commemorating a day that I, for one, will never forget. I was teaching when it all happened. I remember looking at television monitors in total disbelief … total and absolute. I also remember the day after … a day on which there was NO air traffic above our heads. Weird. D
I think the disbelief was global. I had just returned home after collecting my son from school and my neighbour was in the driveway looking ashen. She told me to try and watch the TV news without alarming my son – she said something truly awful had happened and that life would never be the same.
I don’t remember our skies being empty the day after – that occurred much later with the Icelandic ash cloud.
Jenny, I would love to sit in the back of your classroom and watch you teach, see you draw out the emotions and responses in students, and feel the aura your style creates.
This is a powerful, wonderful and inspiring post.
You are a treasure.
Kind words Marilyn, but I can’t take credit for teaching this or anything else for that matter – my role in the classroom is purely one of support – firstly for our students with special educational needs and secondly for the class teacher. I’ve been fortunate to support some very inspirational teaching, especially in our English department.
Oh, Jenny. How beautiful. How absolutely beautiful. When we went to the 9/11 Museum in New York a few months ago, there was a video in a dark corner. It showed the people jumping out of the buildings. The words next to the video were to the effect, that even though this is painful to watch, (We had never seen this before on the news) these people did not choose to die that day and they should not be forgotten…..I get that from the poem you posted.
Hi Hollis, I’m glad you liked this poem – it certainly resonated with me. Those images are truly shocking – I think I saw them first on a documentary a few years ago and they really depict true desperation, I think.
Oh Jenny, this is a most beautiful poem and stirs such painful memories of those who ‘waved’ from the burning towers, begging to be saved, and then leapt from the windows to their certain death. I watched a documentary of those who died in this way and was deeply shocked by it, as anyone would be. A salutary and powerful reminder etched in our memories of the day that the world changed forever. As you say, Lest we forget…
Thanks Sherri- yes, truly shocking and not something that any of our generation will ever forget. It has changed the world forever – shocking events are still happening. No one can feel totally secure which of course, is part of the plan. But this disastrous tragedy precipitated many others, so this is why I think we must take a moment’s pause to remember this – and this poem is a way to do just that.
A beautiful, powerful poem that depicts the ugliness of war and conflict … today and eons ago. War is never pretty.
About the lack of memorization, especially of the times tables. This explains why many have difficulty doing even the most basic math in their head. It’s a pity.
Hi Judy – thanks for stopping by and leaving a comment.
If I had not memorised my times tables then my maths would be even worse than it is now. It was the only thing I could be confident about – and that’s because I had a good memory for repetitive things. I was pretty good at reciting poems, too!
A powerful poem that I’d never heard Jenny. I suppose we should be thankful that such poems are being taught. I don’t think I was taught anything much about the world wars whether in literature or history – I took O Level history and it was all about the history of medicine – which I thought at the time was a bit random.
My son did the history of medicine at O level (GCSE) along with the American Wild West which I thought was even more random. He really enjoyed it though, and it inspired him to go on and study history at his own pace later on – and look where that lead!
Poems like Out of the Blue are a great way to get discussions going – and to find out just how much general knowledge or not some students have!
This was well written and not sure why it would be considered controversial? Anyone must understand the reason why those people chose to ‘surrender’ as they did, succumbing to the tragedy and allowing the decision to still be theirs. I absolutely enjoyed this poem, the meaning and depth of its words really touched my heart and brought me to tears. I am like Marylin, I would like to sit in on one of your classes, listening to the discussion, Jenny.
Ah, thank you. The poem above is a small extract from a much longer one which goes right through that awful awful day. It charts one man’s experience of being in the North Tower. Some people found it far too personal and disturbing. But of course, that was the point.
Poignant, moving poem by a great poet that until now I did not know existed. Thanks for this Jenny. Being overly sensitive and romantic I had a ‘thing’ for Owens in high school and later Graves and Grenfell…I felt the loss of these talented young men so keenly.
You’re welcome, Yolanda, I’m glad you liked this poem – and I’m with you with Owen – what amazing writing – and for someone that young to write like he did is doubly incredible.
I couldn’t agree more about the Johnny Rotten reference, although I would never have arrived at it myself. It works! Pure anger. A Boston punk/celtic band the Dropkick Murphys sometimes play here and I admit to being a big fan. They have a punk version of “Fields of Athenry” that they do. Pure spite and anger and, yes, it works quite well too.
Oh good, I’m not alone then in seeing the possibilities of angry punks! I can remember the first time I saw the Sex Pistols perform – on a late night TV show and I was horrified – I thought the end of rock music as we knew it had come to an end.
I can see that The Fields of Athenry would work given the punk treatment. It’s an interesting perspective, isn’t it?