From the author:

From the Author:

I will not introduce myself.
I will not ask "How do?"
I will not wave, I will not bow,
Or shake a hand with you.

For I am not polite, my friend;
I have no social grace.
Like you, I have no manners,
And I never learned my place.

Instead I'll write a poem
And I'll put myself in verse,
And if you like the sound of me,
Well, THEN we might converse.

So read a line or two of me,
Or don't, if it's a chore,
But since you've read fifteen of me
I bet you'll read one more.

Click here to contact the author
(...or don't...he doesn't really trust emails from children. They can be sticky).

Monday, 30 May 2011


I’m hanging upside-down from the monkey-bars at school.
It isn’t very popular and sure as heck ain’t cool.
The other kids are staring at me, thinking I’m a freak,
But I don’t mind, cause if I could, I’d hang here all the week!

Cause when the blood goes rushing down and roars around my head,
It sounds as though I’m not at school, but on the sea instead.
The waves are washing on the shore; the wind’s a wailing blast;
The clouds are sailing through the sky, like galleons plunging past.

So why should all those teachers get all crotchety and cross?
I know the recess bell has rung, but can’t they tell I’m lost?
I’m far a-sea; my loyal crew are pirates, hard but brave:
The storm has swept us far off course on every scurvy wave.

But still they tap upon my shoes and pull me from the sea,
And I look down upon the sky as they look down on me:
“My child, come down at once, for this is not where you should be.”
“I know,” I say, and in my head, I’m sailing on the sea.

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