Alban Wood young poets

I recently did some workshops with years 5 and 6 at Alban Wood Primary School and Nursery in celebration of World Book Day. It was a real pleasure to read them a few of my poems and then discuss ‘Recipe for a Wasp’ (available in ‘The Best Ever Book of Funny Poems’ edited by Brian Moses) in more detail. We talked about why I’d used the descriptive language I had, alternatives I could have chosen, and what makes a good ‘recipe’.

We then did a collaborative class poem, with input from everyone - and given the limited time we had, I think you’ll agree that it came out brilliantly. Year 6’s poem is below, and I will add Year 5’s when I receive the edited version back from their teacher.

In addition, 6 children from year 6 went home and independently wrote their own recipe poems - how fantastic is that? I’m delighted to publish their work here and am sure that it won’t be the last time they see their work shared with a wider audience - definite writers to watch. I have made very minor corrections to spelling where needed, but otherwise these are as written.

(We are not sponsored by Doritos, but did think they made a particularly good shark ingredient, representing triangular teeth. They may have made a few more appearances!)

Recipe for A Great White Shark by Year 6, Alban Wood

First you will need:
a bucket of blood
from a dead animal’s guts,
eight dozen chilli heatwave Doritos,
a sense of panic as your feet don’t touch the bottom.

Throw it into the crater of an underwater volcano, season with a pinch of sea-salt.
Add fifteen human toes
which have dropped off from frostbite.
Stir with a plank from a sunken pirate’s ship.

Next you will need:
Your full name spoken loudly by your parents, the silhouette of a figure in the dark,
the fear of a monster under the bed,
the nerves of your very first swimming lesson. Knead into a stiff dough.
Take it to the bottom of the Mariana Trench and leave it under a rock for a century.

Make sure you don’t leave it for too long it might explode!

***

A Recipe for an annoying sibling (for when you are bored) by Nikhita, year 6

First you will need: 

two gallons full of boiling and fuming water, 

ready to explode at your face,

one of your favourite books to add extra spice,

your mum and dad's features to go along with it. 

Stir vigorously. 

Next you will need: 

one dirty nappy, 

full of you know what,

clothes from your own choice, 

any gender. 

Pour into body mould. 

Bake in the centre of the Earth's equator, 

to add extra spice. 

Then pour one drop of cold water from the River Thames.

Now, wear headphones for the rest of your life. 

That is how to make an annoying sibling! 

***

A Recipe for Confidence by Kavya, year 6

Take 3 cups of skill, and a pinch of ambition.

Then, put it in a bowl of confidence. 

Next, add a pair of drumsticks.

Now, pour it into a pan that is shaped as a teenager. 

Then heat at 500 degrees.

When you hear an awesome beat you know it's done. 

***

Recipe for a Dementing Devil by Cameron, year 6

First, take a bucket of blood straight

from a human's soul. Then, take a bumble bee's body 

and squish and squash that in a cauldron. 

Take some raw ham 

from a pig, 

fresh and neat, 

muwahahaha. 

When you get a slap 

from your parents, 

squeeze the redness into the mixture 

and wait until dawn 

and cut the lawn. 

Next you will need to: 

Crush the chilli heatwave Doritos 

and damage the cheetos. 

Don't be cheeky when 

adding them in, 

just try to be sneaky. 

Admire the bubbling, 

struggling to mix together. 

Get the dirtiness of your kitchen floor, 

add the roar of your mum, 

add the burning of your dinner. 

I think you're the winner 

***

Recipe for a T-Rex by Nishma, year 6

Take that old faux snake belt, 

that one in the corner you never wore, 

A feather of a phoenix fiery and dark.

When you visit your grandparents 

make sure no one's watching, 

then open up your grandpa's closet of wonders 

and scoop up a bottle of dust. 

Run it through a pasta maker 

and make sure it’s paper thin. 

Make a trip to your local store 

and grab all the packets of doritos available. 

Chuck it into the mix 

then season with oregano and paprika. 

Next you will need: 

Fear of losing everything, 

a vial or two of poison, 

maybe even the feeling of guilt 

you get when your parents say your full name. 

Take the book Harry Potter and the order of the Phoenix, 

then rip out pages 387 to 396 - the part where Harry goes to the 

bathroom and figures out the clue. 

Grab the flag above the White House and add it in, 

the smell of your baby brothers full diaper, 

your fear of clowns,

and to top it, all of the misty haze 

that surrounds you in the middle of your nightmare 

while the clock ticks away. 

Then take a moment to name your creature. 

After, dig a great big deep hole 

and deep fry your beast for over a century. 

But don't leave it for too long 

otherwise it could turn against you!!!

***

Recipe for a Cobra by Ria, year 6

First you will need:

A squeeze of lemon juice, 

pure and sour. 

Your older brother's attitude, 

whenever he speaks,

5 slices of human flesh, 

preferably fresh. 

Add a sprinkle of fury, 

make sure that there's enough. 

You might need those serious eyes, 

your mother gives you every time.

Now listen carefully, 

and let it sit, 

for precisely 3 decades, 

or you'll find a nasty surprise. 

Be careful when you pick your cobra up you might lose a finger or so. 

You will be needing:

The nasty smell of rotten eggs,

the dread of going to school, 

drizzled in syrupy poison. 

Stir violently with a broken kitchen spoon,

knead your thick dough, 

and shove it into the cast, 

while you get ready for the fun.

A meteor waiting to explode... 

Let your cobra out at dinner,

and pretend that you're invisible. 

That couldn't be me!

***

Recipe For A Ravishing Racoon by Bonnie, year 6

Take a stinky skunk 

from the rubbish bin, 

stuff some rotten fish 

straight from the harbor 

raw and fresh, 

blah blah blah. 

When all your name is called by your parents 

that's when you know 

you have a freshly new pack of toes. 

And the ring of the doorbell is a fresh pack of food shop

alongside some razor-sharp teeth straight out of a lion’s blood-eating mouth. 

Next you will need: 

a nice bumble bee’s sting,

the smell of old people, 

and a tick from the school bell 

to say it's the end of the day.

Hooray! 

A spray that smells like an infected poison 

that has been in the back of the cupboard for many

years on end. 

That's when you know 

you have a freshly baked 

Racoon. 

Straight from an exploding volcano 

then let out in the woods 

with a bit of a hiss 

And then you have yourself a... 

RACOON!!