I introduced you to this astonishing new book from Te Papa Press called The Curioseum: Collected Stories of the Odd and the Marvellous (It’s filled to an electric brim with poems, stories and illustrations). You can hear some of the writers read here! See my post here.
These are my favourite poems from my challenge to write about an object that fascinates you.
It was really hard to pick just one poet to give a copy of the book to, but thanks to Te Papa Press I am sending a copy to Mitchell. I loved how he used so few words to say so much. He made the watch come alive for me.
First up Ewen‘s terrific poem. I love the mood of this poem and I definitely agree with the ending! She told me: ‘I borrowed this book, The Curiouseum, from our local library and my favourite part was ‘The Saurus’ by Marisa Maepu, I loved how this animal ate so many words that it couldn’t fit in its book! My poem is about my grandfather’s calculator.’
Complicated Simplicity
From my grandfather
math teacher,
something filled
with numbers.
Inscribed in small,
delicate letters,
‘mini calculator’
it says.
Though how
does it work,
my brother comes
to see,
clicking numbers
discovering how.
It’s simple when
you know how
but more complicated
than it looks.
Ewen aged 11, Year 7, Cobham Intermediate School, Christchurch
Dylan‘s poem has super-duper detail and super-duper similes. I love the picture it makes in my head and I love the ending! Great job!
My Witch
I bought a witch from the shops.
Her hat is like a dinner-plate
with a carrot on the top.
Her hair looks like spider webs
her eyes are like pebbles.
Her eyebrows are like caterpillars
or worms.
Her nose is bony
she has a broomstick chin.
Her shoes are black and old
(they are dirty too)
her toes are poking out.
I think my witch
needs a bath.
by Dylan O, 6yrs old, Year 2, Roydvale School, Christchurch
My other favourite poems for this challenge came in a cluster from Russley School in Christchurch. The teacher (and writer!) Melanie Koster told me this: ‘I brought in some old, curious objects to school to inspire the young poets. We had an old pocket-watch, a florin and a battered old German dictionary that was given to my grandfather while he was in a POW camp in Germany.
I got a copy of The Curioseum and read a couple of pieces to the children (fantastic book! Thanks for the recommendation!) We also listened to some of the writers read their work on YouTube.’
How wonderful! Here is what a couple of the young poets came up with (I loved them all but just picked a few to post today):
I love the way Riley‘s poem ends and the way it flows:
Bang! Clatter!
I’m made.
1962 has a new florin in town.
I’ve met up with my million relatives.
I’m thrown in a big sack.
The top opens
thousands of my relatives
start screaming.
As they go away from me
tears start to roll down
my surface.
As 46 years have passed
I’ve nearly been around every shop
but one
antique store.
I see a person walking in
through a small crack
in the cash register
He purchases a pound of butter
he hands over five dollars
the register opens
I’m handed over to the man.
He walks straight over the road
and into the antique store.
He looks at me and I look back
I’m put on the shelf
as an antique.
By Riley G, Year 7
Holly‘s poem has great detail and sounds good when you say it out loud:
I Am the Great Old Book
I’m old
a great old book
I’m thin
the front of me is bent
I was published in Great Britain
my spine is getting wrecked
and turning light green
edges coloured with pinky purple
and cream
By Holly, Year 5
MItchell‘s poem shows how an object can hold such memories and move you:
The soldier’s watch
looks like a circle
the back is green
with silver sparkles
sounds like guns
banging very loud
feels sad in the heart
missing family
smells like gunpowder
By Mitchell, Year 7
Azryn‘s poem is short but full of things to discover in it:
Understanding German
The old tattered spine
has string falling out.
Nowhere to go but on a bookshelf.
Should it be in a museum or
should it be in a house?
My prisoner of war number will always
be remembered.
By Azryn Year 6
Monica‘s poem makes a book come alive inside her poem with stunning detail. I loved it!:
Life of a Book
I was once a beautiful tree.
My leaves were so smooth that they shined,
but the axe cut through my waist,
a disgusting stump left behind.
My body was sliced into slithers,
a needle stitched me together.
Words were tattooed on my belly,
I was bound in a cover of leather.
I rode in a monster of wheels,
to a place of joy and delight.
I was placed with more of my kind,
and stayed there overnight.
In the early morning a bell rang,
adults and kids filled the shop
I felt myself fly through the air,
and then I came to a stop.
In front of my cover a girl stood,
she opened me up wide,
she read the words that covered me
I felt an amazing feeling inside.
I heard her read my story,
of adventure, mystery and quest,
I felt the love that she had for me,
my heart felt very blessed.
Now I’m a very old book.
my home is the little girl’s shelf.
I’ve watched her live her life.
now she’s getting old herself.
That girl made my life amazing,
I’m glad I’m the one that she took
I was once a beautiful tree,
and now I’m a beautiful book.
By Monica K, Year 7
