Poems & stories by young people
Have a read of some of the excellent work produced by students during Writers in Schools sessions.
Kate Newmann Residency, supported by the Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade.
The work below was created by students of St Genevieve’s High School, Belfast during a residency with poet, Kate Newmann, which was supported by the Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade.
by Holly Mulhern
I heard him breathing, my stepdad. One month after his death it started. Each night I’d lie awake in the dark, aching for sleep that would not come. Around the hour of 3 am it would start. It wasn’t normal breathing; it was as though he was sleeping. Time and time again I would try to dismiss it as lack of sleep teasing me. But one night the silence stayed. I remember deciding I would get up to reassert the normality of my house, and as I walked up the landing I passed my mother’s open bedroom door, the darkened room empty of her but full of her sadness, that refused to sleep in a bed without him, destined for the lumpy sofa. He stood in the eerie light cast by bedroom down the hall. He stood there and then I blinked, and he didn’t.
I listen like the insomnia that plagued us.
Silence chooses my volatile understanding.
The relationship bone and breath share, is rhythm and empty promises, once full now impossible.
Belief is the moment when you remember someone’s meaning on a normal day and you see your reflection in the glass of your back door for a moment and the emotion of your own face pounds its fist into your chest sharply.
by Danny Rafferty
The rock was different and jagged. It took many by surprise. That rock was given to me on a cold winter’s night. I greet a sour expression as the rock is thrown angrily into the back seat of the car. The rock was small and soft but in time it grew, and with that so did my love for the rock. The rock cracked as it fell into the ground, and with that, so did I. But we slowly tried to make do with the rock we now had, because in the end it was the same rock. The rock and I cracked together, and before I realised it was breaking, it was taken away and deemed broken.
by Tara McCann
A dragon eye that is black and purple.
Its language is time.
The mountain fears to be alone.
Poetry Day Ireland 2016
These poems were created in response to Poetry Ireland's Poetry Day Ireland classroom resources in 2016.
Poems by children in Milford National School, Castletroy, Co. Limerick
>> Read poems
Poems by children in St Michael's National School, Bere Island, Co. Cork
>> Read poems
JCSP Library Project with Mairead Duggan
The Boy on the Train, by 2nd Year Áine Class, Mount Carmel Secondary School.
>> Read story