School's coming to an end,
and it's GCSE's,
using all my expertise gained through-out the school years,
It could all end in tears.
Teachers say it's a big deal,
that's what they convey,
it is for them, anyway.

The last few weeks of term and you hand in your coursework,
that was fine, I wish I could shirk the exams,
not very good at revising,
but our teachers are advising us to watch GCSE Bitesize,
but it doesn't really cover what we've learned,
which is a bit of a concern.

We all cram into the exam hall,
it's a bit last minute,
but I'm trying to recall my revision notes.

An Inspector Calls by J.B Priestley,
something's stirring,
Arthur Birling,
a public scandal is too much to handle,
Eva Smith,
Eric and Gerald both had affairs,
but the latter actually cared.
That's a start, I guess.

The exam invigilator sets the clocks,
and permits one hour and forty-five minutes.
The Science exams are multiple-choice,
Biology is fine, but Physics and Chemistry haunt me.

Geography next,
tectonic plates,
and the traits of EDC's,
as well as Less Economically Developed Countries.

That's all over,
we await our mark,
the best part is still to come,
everyone meeting down the park,
and that too me is the abiding memory of my school days,
one last time we're all together in glorious weather,
before going our separate ways.

Poem 3
How to raise kids

How can you raise kids that are in good health when you don't see the lies that you're selling to yourself?

I got into to teaching to make a difference,
To add some joy to a kids existence,
I knew, so well, the hurt and pain
That kids in secondary school sustain
The tears and the fears and the dread and the...
"Ahahahaha! Look at his Nicks!! He thinks he's got Nikes but he's wearing Nicks!"
And how it switches you off and makes you not care,
Because you just don't want to go back there.
So, you wander into town to HMV
Til your parents feel let down when you only got an E
Until you failed Art and Graphics and Literacy
But at least you got an A in history...
Because academic subjects are "more important"

How can you raise kids that are in good health when you don't see the lies that you're selling to yourself?

So I left 6th form and I needed change
And wanted to go to somewhere strange
(And new)
Somewhere away from all the drama
At 19 I went by myself to Ghana
"God bless our homeland Ghana
And make our nation great and strong,
Vow to defend forever
The cause of Freedom and of Right"
And I taught
Maths and English
With no books
And no training
And no observing
And I was ******* at it... Really bad
But somehow, i felt the change
Just because I cared and they cared

How can you raise kids that are in good health when you don't see the lies that you're selling to yourself?

A few years later I started teachin.
GTP, hands on, straight in.
My teaching mentor was called Mr Hickey,
He smoked a pipe and drank down whiskey
(In school)
My first proper job was Bradford inner city
It was a bit rough and the buildin was ******
There we had a guy who was a lazy old ****
And he had kids tracing instead of learning Art
When I first got there I was overwrought
These weren't like the training lessons that I taught
These kids had opinions. They needed to engage...
To be taught in a way that suited kids of their age
I nearly gave up, because I felt so scared
But at the end of the day, I knew that I still cared

How can you raise kids that are in good health when you don't see the lies that you're selling to yourself?

In my 3rd year I had this year 11 class
They wanted a good lesson and they wanted to pass
But they needed convincing and I nearly cried
So I tried and I tried and I tried and I tried
To listen
And react
To change
And Adapt
And those kids made me better
And for 3 years I got better
Our grades were sky high
The kids wanted to try
They wanted learn, they wanted to know "why"
But I got to the top and I needed to fly
Because I needed somewhere that I could ask the "why"

How can you raise kids that are in good health when you don't see the lies that you're selling to yourself?

You have those moments sometimes in life, where you know that a decision is important, but you don't know why and you don't know which way is the right way to go with it. This was that point for me. Sat in the interview, saying I wanted to pull out but letting them convince me to stay. That was the point, I think where everything changed.

2010. New job. New government.

How can you raise kids that are in good health when you don't see the lies that you're selling to yourself?

I was head of Art and I got noticed
Within a year I got promoted
Faculty leader of creative skills
This is the part where it really kills
What do you do when you just aren't wanted
When people are angry that you're there
When all of your decisions seem to be haunted
By the ghost of a culture where they just don't care
Where nastiness and gossip always bite
Resting in the coffin of a lost tradition
Kids so bored they're turning white
Beaten down to bored submission
And everyone seems to have given up the fight
But they're still convinced that their way's "right"

How can you raise kids that are in good health when you don't see the lies that you're selling to yourself?

After so much pain, we were getting through it
We realised there was much more to it
No more easy working out of booklets
(The teaching equivalent of rhyming couplets)
But every time you made a shift
The goal posts seemed to start to drift
And this all caused a further rift
The final one I couldn't lift

How can you raise kids that are in good health when you don't see the lies that you're selling to yourself?

Gossip and lies caused by others stress
Creates a catastrophic mess
Turns people's lives upside down
Gives off the sense that they're a clown
They're trying. They're just really down
Simply trying not to drown
Marriage ending
Friends unfriending
Children's lives are slowly bending
House and finance are up-ending
Mediation sessions need attending
Everything seems to need mending
And the pain seems to be never-ending

How can you raise kids that are in good health when you don't see the lies that you're selling to yourself?

Professional life vs Personal life
Professional strife = Personal strife
Personal wife goes through professional strife
Personal strife =

"I understand what you're going through, but we need to think about the learners."

Stress in teaching is the expectation
Work life balance has no correlation
The pressures of a confused nation
Makes teachers into the poor relation

Goodbye btec, goodbye vocation
Hello Gove and his minds creation
Goodbye Gove and hello Morgan
Hiding behind a gritty slogan
Creating the pressure of pointless change
For teachers to correct and rearrange

How can you raise kids that are in good health when you don't see the lies that you're selling to yourself?

But here's the thing. It's not their fault.
Sure, they've no idea MPs
They've less common sense than a piece of cheese
But all MPs really do is set
Some criteria that need to be met
A league table
Academies
Appraisal
Curriculums
It's nothing new. They've always done it
But it's given to schools to interpret
We don't lose money, we just get judged
We need conviction that can't be budged
We need to get a message out
To every parent, round about
And what this message needs to say
Is "we aren't doing extra maths today,
We're going to go outside and play
Because whatever MPs say
We'll do what's right for the kids
And here's why it's right you know
Cause we want to see your children grow
We're not just for levels, grades, progress
We're also here to relieve stress
We're also here to make your child feel
That happiness is something real
That in spite of all the crap you see
You can become head of art when you failed gcse."
Learn People skills
Determination
Creativity
Imagination
Honesty
Integrity
Sen­sitivity
And empathy
It's not an easy sell I know
You can't measure how people grow
You can't report or give a grade
But they're qualities that are heaven made
And maybe think the same for teachers
We're all very caring creatures
We care about how kids are raised
We don't need to be constantly appraised
Default 100%?!?
Like energy is heaven sent
Like when your kids are down with flu
You just man up, there's work to do
When you've got a quality person who just needs backing
Why give pressure and then threaten with sacking?

How can you raise kids that are in good health when you don't see the lies that you're selling to yourself?

School - this week mark all your books
I need them up to date so I can look

Teacher - I've got to take my daughter swimming
I've got to see my son try winning

School - read through your teaching standards mate
And leave your children at the gate

End of the week the books are done
But head and deputies are overrun
"We'll have to put these books aside
To push our children down the slide"

And good for them. They work really hard. It's not a job to take lightly and they deserve to be there. But they don't have the time to step back and think "big picture"

Let's flip it round and just imagine

Teacher - I'm sorry, I'm afraid I'm ill
School - you can't be ill the learners will fail
Teacher - I need some patience, I need some time
School - the kids need work which is sublime
Don't they deserve that? Don't you think?
Do you really want your learners to sink?

And there it is. The teacher guilt.
Because that's the way that we've been built
We care too much
We try too much
We give too much
We work too much
And we lose too much
We get ideas above our station
About how this job is a vocation
When we stop and look around
The evidence just can't be found
Someone tells me what to teach
Someone tells me how to teach it
Someone tells me how to plan
Someone tells me when to plan it
Someone tells me how to mark
Someone tells me when to mark it
We work to targets, get appraised
Residuals to get profiles raised
It's industry. I rest my case.

How can you raise kids that are in good health when you don't see the lies that you're selling to yourself?

Or, put it another way.

I just think that teaching has lost all its common sense. And it's kindness. It behaves like an industry which is about getting results and meeting targets. There's nothing that measures people's happiness or how deeply moved or affected someone is by what they've learned. It just checks that they learned it. And we are given this guilt trip. That it's about children and that we are affecting their lives if we don't meet targets. We give up more and more because "teaching is a vocation"  "it's about kids", and yet schools use cover supervisors, cut subjects, limit choices etc to save money and get results. So the profession behaves like an industry but the teachers have to give their lives to it like its a vocation. It's not a vocation. At all. It's a job.

How can you raise kids that are in good health when you don't see the lies that you're selling to yourself?

I felt you.
I, felt, You.
Before I even met you.
I had dreamed of you since the 90's
and never known it;
Through episodes of byker grove and Dawson's Creek,
I longed to be the rebel in the story,
and we would ******* into the sunset.

I felt you
In every GCSE and A-level result;
Elation and deflation of achievement,
which led to me to feel the same
in kissing one boy, whilst dating another,
like I was tasting ying-yang in my mouth
pretending it was double dip; sweet and sour,
and realising I never much liked sweets anyway.

I felt, you,
From the take-off at MCR
through the greyhound at NYC central station,
to the VIA rail stop at SBURY.
I felt you in the air of the smoking car,
in the hard ******* in the train toilets,
to falling in love with a twist I was never meant to curl.
And 10yrs later I can still tell you what that tasted like.

I felt you.
In every dance move I learnt to attract a beneficial gaze.
In each time my lover ****** me and left me.
When I was lost in textbooks
and I fell in love with the wrong type of girl;
And as she drowned me in champagne, and I ****** her with my eyes,
I felt, I was a fool for, you.

I felt you,
Each time the make-up *** started,
to when the bruises began to heal;
To when I walked away and became the hunter,
with my tequila shot eyes casting a weary bedroom glaze.
I felt you as I licked each shot glass clean through,
and put on my moves, snorted a line of gunpowder,
and ****** to the beat of the dance.

I felt you,
In every ***** I kissed,
Knelt on my knees, watching the time,
as ***, sweat and spit filled my mouth and nose,
and I thought thank god for that, when it was over,
and I got to light a cigarette,.
I felt you,
As she whispered, panting and hoarse,
'no-one's ever ****** me that good'

I felt you.
As I brought the girl home for the first time,
and she threw red wine round the flat
and ****** me like it was my birthday on the 4th of July whilst celebrating Holi.
She ******* made me that night.
She was ******, and she still tasted like water after getting lost in the desert.
In the red wine we drank, I felt you,
from the seed, to the sun, to the water, to the grape,
as you fell dripping down my throat.


I. Felt. You.
The first time a man undressed
in front of me and I blushed,
whilst running my tongue across my teeth, tasting lust and my heartbeat.
I felt you in each ******, each stare that wanted to slap me for *******, then **** me harder each time; in each bead of sweat that would be licked from my body, to the way I was smelt, to the look in his eyes
and each cup of tea we drank copiously throughout the night.
I felt you as a power was unleashed and surged throughout my body and mind in cruise control.

I felt you.
In everything I ever wanted in my teenage rebel dreams.
In everything I ever wanted in learning the bitter sweet crescendo of taste
In everything I ever wanted in a worldwide love affair.
In everything I ever wanted in a 5yr cocktail world with a dancing girl
In everything I ever learnt from a hidden bruise
In everything I ever wanted in salt, lime and a gunfight, stalking my prey
In everything I ever licked, ******, devoured and became a karmic bruise on my heart
In everything I ever found in the never-ending well of love and heartbreak
In everything I ever learnt about loving something that was broken.

I know this.
I felt it as you kissed me,
and I felt you move
like the universe was between us, within us
and we were joined once more,
by a lip's caress.

Explain why fluorine and chlorine
are in the same group of the periodic table.

He blunders. There’s a question
on polymers soon
so he knows he’s *******.

An afternoon in June
spent regurgitating answers

rehearsed a hundred times
in overcast classrooms.

He knows there’s a matter
of days before his mates
will go their separate ways.

Names he’s spoken for years
will decay over time,
cemented over by people

he hasn’t yet met.
Two, seven, two, eight, seven.
Seven electrons in their outer shell.

He’s surprised he knows,
the answer chiming
in his head like a peal of bells.

general certificate of secondary education
so why the hesitation
this generation
can be whatever they wish
if they do themselves a favour
get a grade 5 over 25 papers
because having a gcse
tends to be
the best way to succeed
but if you need
a 5 in maths and english
to get a history degree
whats the point in trying to reach
what you dream to be?

We're just a bunch of stupid kids. We pretend to know about love in the hopes that it will fill the gaping hole in our chests caused by the lead bullets of our parent's words or our friend's mockery. In truth we try to be mature and 'grown up' but we're not.  We're just 9 year olds stuck in a 15 year old body, trying to create a jigsaw but we've got missing pieces where our dreams should be and Reality has either hidden or destroyed all our aspirations that were so important when we were little. Now we're struggling through GCSE's and getting by solely on coffee to hide the lack of sleep, expected to decide our future when most of us can't even decide what to have for breakfast in the morning. I guess what I'm trying to say is...
We're just children.

They are digging up Richard the Third
under a car park
the last warrior King
to die in open battle,
whilst 10,000 youth cower they were
cheated out of  their Grade C's
in  GCSE English.
With Chivalry sped,
the bien-pensants long gone
another message reads,
the anonymous ripen
their secular plot,
trust in no one
not even yourself
yet blame the last of the good.

If you are not like me then you will never probably see
The million thoughts I dream of being everyday
A sailor, a wrestler, but never a candlestick maker (ambition people, come on!)

We all think outside the box but end up never breaking out
Tesco’s, stuck on the till, idealist conceptions up on a hill but sat here earning nowt

Its human instinct to better yourself
Flunked GCSE’s, a mortgage to pay but still dreaming of better days

Am I the only one who thinks like this
I work to live, not live to work, the optimist in me always wanting his bliss

Life begins to **** this wanting of a concept
Sorry lads, the time is now, be like them and live with the debts

It’s what you do that counts, that journey from start to finish
Live like a king or slide away and diminish,

A million thoughts

JJB

I,m sitting here wondering
why I ever went to school
cos every course I go on
they treat me like a fool
they ask me easy questions
that my nine year old can do
like three times three
or what is two times two
so was there any point
in learning what I learnt
my gcse passes
might as well be burnt
no offence to my advisor
or the learning concepts staff
but you really got me thinking
someones having a laugh
cos I really aint a fool
I,m a pretty clever bloke
and I,m really wondering
if this all a joke
it makes me feel inadequate
I feel like shouting out
come on Jeremy beadle
its about time you popped out

i make no apologies
for my words steadily
building into anthologies
but i feel i must say im sorry
for my lack of poetic knowledge
leading to reams of verbal slurry
i must add at this point in proceedings
that i think im doing well given educations failings
but dont expect too much entertaining
theres only so far i can go on my GCSE gradings

At least I'm not you. I used to look up to you but I'm taller now. Sure, I've yet to get a job, because I've gone from education to education for the last 16 years but at least I have GCSE's, and less scars, oh and less drug addictions. I've yet to have a girlfriend for more than a year, but then again I don't have a son I cant see without a social worker present. Sure we both spent time in Winchester but I was at Uni drinking pints and forgetting to do the reading whilst you were sat in a cell in HMP Winchester for possession and assault. You are every excuse I make when I don't want to be nice for a day, my reasoning for why smoking can't be that bad and definitely the reason why my Mum is so proud of me even when I don't do as good as I could. I feel angry yes, but I write poetry or listen to Les Mis whilst you punch holes in walls and ingest things designed to knock out horses. Yet despite your immoral, at times repugnant behaviour, I'm still jealous because your beard is better than mine.

The invisible things of the Order of India
is in the wilderness of the west, Caste is an injunction,
should be optimistic he left the cat's kind of food
in the crowd; Point to The fear of the rose, is the image
of the things; by the fear of magical things,
and I have a kiss and began at the harlot's house,
thou didst break to cry, to the detriment of the machine.
Tom, my servant will be at Georgia's birth,
Barbie, the fiery brightness of the color of a wild beast
shall surely be ***** as it stands an amazing tasting
the ancient language into a bar cool dog stuff stupid
idea ceilings pistol in which all agree is buried in a hole
in the shadow of the mountain, carrying the interim ZONE -
other cities. Blue, blue, blue green and red, blue,
Hilary cheerful, Russia, the United States products
in the US, textiles, and three women in the divine.

And finally, a and Adam, ETC. is the *** change,
and to increase with the dog neadification Rufus,
yum,
and is quick with one another and also the sum
of money; I have your name, the time of year
without Sarmacia. Germany cerebral antioxidants.
Seeks reliable old book tour of yogurt's
Frequency of images of Investigation
and the results of the year further strengthen
the reference data, new GIDE Robert, a little
history of thousands of pounds in an urn or history,
a $ about drink, drink ththiopiam prsesebant
Saudi Arabia and export approved in Kenya radio
holy Ayers Arab Brazil scientists
Paniban Phoenix Samui play sleep problems
Kapolei Vap Ustazis black heart
of the Christian Community asks a question
concerning other Christian Aesian; the Asian
market in the city center, in the English
intelligence market centers, center of the city.

Dig right! Down? !! GCSE dark
templom vehicle Christopher
Columbus fat is the fat wrinkles,
wounds laboratories shine dark
Hochnovo dentist in the *******'s
sleeping boy was very unexpected;
garlic Edition Saturday pop electronic
dance pirates same prophet. West
called cat litter nightfall; Ephraim
killing cats America's gay gas
conservation welcome. US U
Keeley "to sanguina;      Little
Germany's Jeremiah, kemeras
Spantrialis spices Sumerabant
Somenabunt Somnyabunt;
drop struck gold triangle of Book
stomach parasites, animal Somnia
burnt mother of friendship with Russia.

Sitting watching the rain fall
Long needed after the heat wave
But dealing with temperatures of 40c
Gave me a focus other than pain

Four months have passed by
And I still wake up with aching heart
Even now I try to fathom it out
But still not knowing why

I still go to pick up the things
You loved from supermarket shelves
I look at the empty spare room bed
Where you used to lay your head

No more writing journals together
And listening to your stories or news
All that is left is an empty space
In my heart that is full of the blues

I’ve begged and I’ve cried
Knocking loudly on heaven’s door
For her to please get in touch
Either to her dad or me once more

Does she even care, does she know
The pain that we feel deep inside
Perhaps she thinks we cut her from our lives
I can only suspect and surmise

I hold onto the hope that all will be restored
That life will return even better
We didn’t even get to see her prom
Or know her GCSE results
How are we meant to forget her?

Four months and still no change
The world keeps turning days come and go
Our hearts keep on yearning
Rain is falling life is hard
And still we do not really know
WHY!!!

I'd like to pepper my poems
With referenes to Greek mythology
Or sprinkle a little Norse legend
Throughout my stanzas.
But, alas, it will never be:
For, you see,
I utterly failed my Literature GCSE.

I ponder the fact if I am man-made
If God lost his plans and I was part of the trade
Here you go computer brain, have a go on this
See if you can upgrade here, an upload from my GCSE brain list
You see, we download our knowing from everything we see
From TV programmes, Netflix, and the BBC
Onto our time at school and our parent's philosophy
Why study if I am DNA-made, who needs trigonometry
Then again, are my parents just an implant of imagination
Are my emotions really real, such as love and frustration
As I watch the news and the world as a nation
All governed by robots on a far away station
And to think, they'd even let me think this speculation
...
Wow
Am I different and the last man on Earth
Allowed to write this drivel as mother was the last to have given birth
Have I broken the code they did not want us to see
Or maybe thats it, the last man to haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa­aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaavu;iogbo'ubou'bipbipbipoub
buo
uhbo;ugb
'ougb;i­uv
kjvb;iuvv
bkiuvbyvyyvvviy
Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeelp!!!!!!!­

JJB