Poem banned from schools over knife crime fears
"A poem taught to thousands of schoolchildren every year has been dropped amid fears it could fuel knife crime".
Education for Leisure
By Carol Ann Duffy
Today I am going to kill something. Anything.
I have had enough of being ignored and today
I am going to play God. It is an ordinary day,
a sort of grey with boredom stirring in the streets
I squash a fly against the window with my thumb.
we did that at school. Shakespeare. It was in
another language and now the fly is in another language.
I breathe out talent on the glass to write my name.
I am a genius. I could be anything at all, with half
the chance. But today I am going to change the world.
something’s world. The cat avoids me. The cat
knows I am a genius, and has hidden itself.
I pour the goldfish down the bog. I pull the chain.
I see that it is good. The budgie is panicking.
Once a fortnight, I walk the two miles into town
For signing on. They don’t appreciate my autograph.
There is nothing left to kill. I dial the radio
and tell the man he’s talking to a superstar.
he cuts me off. I get our bread-knife and go out.
the pavements glitter suddenly. I touch your arm.
I will take a stab in the dark that it was as a result of Frances Lawrence (the wife of murdered headmaster Philip Lawrence) lodging a complaint which forced the Assessment and Qualifications Alliance (AQA) to bow to pressure.
In any event, I feel it is an unreasonable fear of knife crime to blame either a poem or its author for knife crime. I am amazed that a Hull school tore the poem out of an anthology of poems. What message does this send to children, that vandalism or criminal damage is ok and so is censoring freedom of speech?
A mixture of law, politics, autobiography and humour. Once described as "The Devilish Advocate" (Guardian), I do have the ability to provoke a response. Sometimes it comes from someone who uses a thought process, and sometimes from jerks usually associated with the knee.
2 comments:
Let's see someone rip this poem out of your blog: (altered under artistic licence)
This bloody town's a bloody cuss
No bloody trains, no bloody bus
And no one thinks of bloody us
In bloody Hull.
The bloody folk are bloody mad
The bloody roads are bloody bad
Good night the bright is bloody sad
In bloody Hull.
Oh bloody crows, Oh bloody rain
No bloody kerbs, no bloody drains
The council's got no bloody brains
In bloody Hull.
The bloody things are bloody dear
A bloody bob for a bloody beer
And is it good? No bloody fear
In bloody Hull.
The bloody dances make you smile
The bloody bands are bloody vile
It only cramps your bloody style
In bloody Hull.
The bloody flicks are bloody old
The bloody seats are bloody cold,
You can't get in for bloody gold
In bloody Hull.
No bloody fun, no bloody games
No bloody times. The bloody dames
Won't even give their bloody names
In bloody Hull.
There's nothing greets your bloody eye
But bloody sea and bloody sky
Roll on the mob! we bloody cry
In bloody Hull.
In Bloody Orkney. Feckit!
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