2014

Index

p.02 Creditsp.03 Foreword

p.04 Burnage Collegep.08 Whalley Range High School for Girls Y9p.10 Loreto High p.16 Whalley Range High School for Girls p.18 Xaverian College

p.21 RESULTS BHM 2014p.22 THANKSForeword

Year after year I am overwhelmed by the commitment, the confidence and the capability of our young people when they become part of the Wordsmith Awards. The progress made in ten weeks is astounding, with pupils developing real life skills and building meaningful relationships with their teammates.Wordsmith draws out the passion and individual voices from young people who are under so much pressure to fit a mould; it creates a platform for students to explore feelings and express opinions. It is the not-so-secret club where it truly is about the taking part and the enjoyment where self-reflection and evaluation occurs no matter what the outcome of the final showcase.We are proud to take part in Wordsmith each year and delighted to support the projects continued success and growth.

Becci Wadeson Burnage Academy BoysCredits

Shirley May Reece WilliamsNicole May Chris Jam

Flo WilsonZuza Grubecka /http://www.zuzazuza.tumblr.comRicardo VilelaChris Jam

Thanks to

CommapressYoung IdentityManchester United FC CommunityCommon Word

Wordsmith team:

Live event production:Magazine photos:Magazine design:Magazine Content Manager:

"If a caged bird sings, a beaten dog will bark"Abdul Rahman

"But when did a helping hand lead to prison?Adnan Mohammed Burnage Boys AcademyTutor: Yussuf Mrabty

Team:Ijaz RanaAdnan MohammedAdam MussaAraful HaqueAbdul RahmanMurshed Ali

Most improved:Abdul RahmanMake my mark

I am the shining light when you see darkIm the voice of the voiceless An ordinary man but I make my mark

Ive made my choice and my choice is stark I spoke for the rest and spoke for the choice lessI am the shining light when you see dark

I saw the floods of injustice and built an arch They tried to drown me in the water that was poisonousAn ordinary man but I make my mark

If a caged bird sings, a beaten dog will bark Im not intimidated by my enemies, theyre only boisterous I am the shining light when you see dark An ordinary man but I make my mark.

By Murshed AliDo you know why the caged bird sings?

It sings when in depressionTo escape eternal oppressionShe knows her song will not be heard It sings so people will recognise that birdDo you know why the caged bird sings?The small bird songs because it knows it cant escapeBut its voice travels further than any cage you createAnd while you thought you had the upper handThe bird strives on continuing its standDo you know why the caged bird sings?It sings because it knows simple iron bars cannot stop its burning passion and it will burn through Metal in any way shape or fashionAnd where ever that bird sing hope is what it bringsDo you know why the caged bird sings?It knows the cage is where her body will always be But her soul will be freeAnd while her heart is stuck in this cageHer soul soars free on the world stageSo the pain of tyranny may stingBut its the reason the caged bird sings

by Adam Mussa

Why the caged bird sings?

Do you know why the caged bird sings?It sings when in depressionTo escape eternal oppressionShe knows her song will not be heard,It sings so people will recognise that bird.

Do you know why the caged bird sings?The small bird sings because it knows it cant escapeBut its voice travels further than any cage you create.

And while you thought you had the upper handThe bird strives on continuing its standDo you know why the caged bird sings?

It sings because it knows simple iron bars cannot stop its burning passion and it will burn through metal in any way shape or fashion.

And wherever that bird sings, hope is what it bringsDo you know why the caged bird sings?It knows the cage is where her body will always be But her soul will be free.

And while her heart is stuck in this cageHer soul soars free on the world stageSo the pain of tyranny may stingBut its the reason the caged bird sings.

by Adam Mussa Explanation

I know why a caged bird singswhile cruelty undergoes a promotion.Living the dream. Worrying about which outfit goes with which shoes. Tormented and abused.

Gurgling on the very water that ends your life.Lying crooked on cold concrete. Moaning the words help me.Thrown away like unwanted furniture. Backs turned, disgusted faces, precarious civilians,But when did a helping hand lead you to prison?

A society truly infiltrated by propaganda,feeding on the naive minds,I know why a caged bird sings.Faint voices, whispering torment.Blank faces.

Expunging the nauseating site from their feeble mindsbirds sing as words inspire but words create a freedom fighter.Maya Angelou, her words so strong that swing low leaving dropped jaws after painful punch lines. Her words so extreme a voice is yet just a projection. Tweet tweet the bird tweets courageously.

Tormented, standing proudgetting back up after being thrown down.Why?Well because it knows its soul roams free. So now you know why a caged bird sings.

by Adnan Mohammed

I know why caged bird sings

I know why the caged bird sings, I was there, stuck in a world of darkness,I dont feel stable,I want to get out but sadly I'm stapled.

Why am I being accused of something for doing nothing?Why am I being kicked off a bus?Why am I going to jail yearly?I feel like I'm in hell, my guts are burning In my head my emotions are turning.

Sleeping in the room of lonesome dark, I hear the whistling of the lark,I walk towards the sound, full of empty joy.

Now Im whistling too and we are joinedI hear the lark my heart feels lightIm not here to fightIm here to live my life.

Look into my eyes you will get lost,Too much emotion,Too much loss.I know why the caged bird sings.

by Ariful Haque

Nelson Mandela

No matter your race, Im part of the historyI am a resilient manRight now justice is a mystery

I lived a life of hope and miseryHell in a beautiful landNo matter your race, Im part of your history

Locked in the dark, I had my epiphanyWe have to make them all understand Right now justice is a mystery

Released in the shadows, to re-shape my imagerySet on a mission to save my motherland No matter your race, Im part of the historyRight now justice is a mystery.

by Ijaz Rana

Crazy Thoughts

I am the one whose thoughts couldnt be crazierI am the one with a burning desireI am the killer of racial segregation, an unholy creation

I am the martyr I am the one with intentions more intense than fireI am the one whose thoughts couldnt be crazierI am the instigator of war against the insane nationAgainst insidious liars and heretical hypocrites.

I will make my legacy worthy of being mentioned as I am the killer of racial segregationI will form a free nation in which the helpless will not be subjects of annotations.Racial diversity will be sanctioned, my legacy will be mentioned.

I am the ones whose thoughts couldnt be crazier, towards my goal I draw near.I am the killer of racial segregation;

I will not be denied my deserved elation.My creation will be holy, echoing throughout the new century.My words will be so loud that they will make the sly haters cry.

by Murshed Ali

Will my hopes and dreams be buried in my soul, like that of Princess Diana?who? "Because like a rose I too have thorns, like a tiger of the woods, I too am formidable when provokedwho?

its only 9.99, 999 pennies to look beautifulwho? Whalley Range High SchoolTutor: Miss S AmirAmy ChadwickCoach: Nicole May

Team:Siddiqa HashmiAisha ShahidSeher AhmedIqra AliMadiha ChaudhryAva MicklewrightNadia BellMyesha AlamMasuma AkhtarSumaya Aboukar

Most improved:Iqra Ali

Awards:Best Team 2014 (High Schools)

To be beautiful

At first I was dying to be beautifulBeautiful just like mummyWith her hair tied up and her face untouchedSandals clacking with confidence, her head held highWill she be remembered for her inside beauty?Her love and affection for me, her hard work and motherly duties?

The advert on the TV shows a different side of beautyA girl with bleached blonde hair and face powdered with product.Will she be remembered for her body and face?Her slender figure and petite waistits only 9.99,999 pennies to look beautiful.

To cover up my face with foundation so my complexion is perfect,My eyes lined with black to make me stand outbecause Im worth it!

This is our societyWe hope you like your stayPlease feel free to be yourself...As long as its in the right way!

Make sure you love your bodyNot too much or well tear you downWell ask why are you smiling?And well question you when you frown

Do you feel beautiful yet?The magazine told me HE would,He would now notice my baby blue eyes surrounded by make-upHe would now notice my skin, my unwrinkled and flawless skinMy curves that werent too curvySo I was gorgeous I was thin.

This is our society.

Wear whatever you want!As long as its what WE chooseHold your own opinionsAs long as they follow our views.

Let us tell you that youre worthless And that you shouldnt make a sound.Well be the first to lend a shoulderAfter weve kicked you to the ground.

Im no longer dying to be like mummyWho didnt care about how she lookedWith her hair tied back and her face untouched.How ridiculous was that?

Finally I am dying, dying to be beautiful like herThat girl I saw on TV with the bleach blonde hairThat girl with the face full of product That girl without a flaw

by Seher better than, Ava Micklewright, Sumaya AboukarDo you know why the caged bird sings?

It sings when in depressionTo escape eternal oppressionShe knows her song will not be heard It sings so people will recognise that birdDo you know why the caged bird sings?The small bird songs because it knows it cant escapeBut its voice travels further than any cage you createAnd while you thought you had the upper handThe bird strives on continuing its standDo you know why the caged bird sings?It sings because it knows simple iron bars cannot stop its burning passion and it will burn through Metal in any way shape or fashionAnd where ever that bird sing hope is what it bringsDo you know why the caged bird sings?It knows the cage is where her body will always be But her soul will be freeAnd while her heart is stuck in this cageHer soul soars free on the world stageSo the pain of tyranny may stingBut its the reason the caged bird sings

by Adam Mussa

Nadia Bell:Theres always a fairy tale with these aspects, but what about life?What I expect isnt reality And what I want is impossible

Siddiqa Hashmi:The shattered pieces of glass poke into my eyes,The shattered pieces of glass that once were my dreams, As I look at those shattered dreams now, tears of blood roll down my cheeks,

Aisha Shahid:I heard of Beauty, Beauty and the Beast,The beast that then became a gentleman, But what about this beast, will he become at least human?

Masuma Akter:Will I ever see the love and affectionthat was in the eyes of Prince Charming for Cinderella in his eyes for me?Will I ever feel his hand in my hand when I die, like Snow White who lay dead after she ate the poison of life?

All: Will my hope and dreams be buried in my soul, like that of Princess Diana?Will my beginning be my end before I live through the middle,like that of Princess Diana?

Will my heart and my soul be crushed in the hands of my Prince Charming, like that of Princess Diana?

Ava Micklewright:But Cinderella lived happily ever after, and Snow White gained a breath, when the lips of her Prince touched hers,

Seher Ahmed:and the Beast loved the Beauty, his words so full of fondness and warmth, not planted on her heart in the form of scars,

Sumaya Aboukar: You say, Princes and Beasts do exist but only in the stories, But if Cinderella, Beauty and Snow White can have their Happily Ever After, so can I.

Madhia Choudhary:So I will wait, and wait and wait, And one day eventually he will become human, and one day I will see love in his eyes for me, and one day eventually his heart will achewhen I breathe my last.

Like that of Princess Diana.

by: Iqra Ali, Madhia choudhary, Siddiqa Hashmi, Ava Micklewright, Sumaya Aboukar, Myesha Alam, Nadia Bell, Aisha Shahid, Seher Ahmed and Masuma Akter.To my destination

Siddiqa: As I walk towards my destination, I hear noisy cars and the bustle of daily life.I see people in different shades of life, carrying their emotions like a fragile glass.

Nadia: As I walk towards my destination, a sudden smell of smoke engulfs me, suffocates meAs a man passes by,judgement in his eyes burning like a dark river at midnightand hate worn as a crown, like a mosquito sucking every particle of confidence.

Sumaya: As I walk towards my destination, it is sad I think, that in a country that boasts a freedom of expression, my veil is subjected to discrimination

Terror terrorise terrorists.

Seher:As I walk towards my destination, they ask me if Im oppressed, how pathetic is that? I think, they pick out flaws that I didnt even know existed, cackles in my face, pricks and prods me, feeds me feelings of hatred, so that I question my own existence.

Myesha: As I walk towards my destination, I am broken from the inside shattered, crushed, crippled, the wounds will heal away with time, but what about the scars on my soul?Left by the words so full of hate and abhorrence that not even the words themselves can contain them.

Madhia:As I walk towards my destination, Dont offend my religion, Dont offend my veil, Because like a rose I too have thorns, like a tiger of the woods, I too am formidable when provoked Ava: I will not be belittled by you. My bones will not be crippled by you. My skin, my race will not be flawed by you. My worth will not be scored by you.

Fairy tales

Myesha Alam:The beginning dangerous, dark, dull.The middle confusing, adventurous, amusing.The end perfect, happy, expected.

Aisha:So tread carefully I say, lest you be pricked, bit, torn from limb to limb, A confidence so high,shattered and replaced by regret and bitterness Masuma:As I walk toward my destination, dont be shocked with my grisly behaviour, it is just a mere defence, Accept my veil, my way of life Accept me for who I amAs I reach my destination;my will, my choice and my voice will over power them.

Do you know why the caged bird sings?

It sings when in depressionTo escape eternal oppressionShe knows her song will not be heard It sings so people will recognise that birdDo you know why the caged bird sings?The small bird songs because it knows it cant escapeBut its voice travels further than any cage you createAnd while you thought you had the upper handThe bird strives on continuing its standDo you know why the caged bird sings?It sings because it knows simple iron bars cannot stop its burning passion and it will burn through Metal in any way shape or fashionAnd where ever that bird sing hope is what it bringsDo you know why the caged bird sings?It knows the cage is where her body will always be But her soul will be freeAnd while her heart is stuck in this cageHer soul soars free on the world stageSo the pain of tyranny may stingBut its the reason the caged bird sings

by Adam Mussa

Grateful to be a Woman Education is the most powerful weapon,We can use to change the world.

But what if it has been used against us?

Siobhan Dawson:I wish school had taught meThat poetry doesnt write itselfThat I can dance without stepsAnd sing without wordsThat I can see without lightBut never forget

That real life can be cruelAnd true love can be fakeThat you can play by the rulesAnd you get what you take

I wish someone had taught meThat my story wont write itselfThat I make the steps to my danceAnd the lyrics to my songI make the light in my darknessAnd choose remembrance.

Amy Porter:I wish school taught me how to be my own person,that your life isn't defined by a grade or number.I wish it taught me how to be an astronaut instead of teaching me how to play it safe.

I wish it taught me things that I enjoyed, things that I wanted to partake in, instead of being submerged into a 50 minute lesson that my heart or mind wasn't in.

I wish it taught me that it was okay to daydream, that the things I thought about while looking out of a window could actually amount to something.

I pledge to learn that life isn't about playing it safe, that if a child has dreams of becoming of the world, then authorities shouldn't dismiss this, simply because they don't have the confidence or drive to try for anything spectacular.

I pledge to learn that exceeding peoples expectations isn't a something to be sheepish about,dreams are a sole basis of who you are and should never be forgotten about, just because your parents may think that they're unrealistic.

Nothing is realistic in this world, and it is our jobs to go above and beyond, as we only have one life.

I wish school taught me that I only have one life.

All:Education is the most powerful weapon,We can use to change the world.

It is time for parents to teach young people early on that in diversity there is beauty and there is strength.

Patricia Snake:I wish my school had taught me how to tell liesHow to keep my mouth locked shutAnd my fists clenched tightAnd my eyes wide open and say"No, you did not see me with that girl."

I wish school had taught meThat they would not believe me.I wish school had taught me how towrap up my hands andpatch up my woundsand speak with a voice as heavy as a church sermon when I say"I will stay with you no matter what."

I wish school had taught me how tofind a safe placeinstead of the square root of piand how to reach for a peninstead of a blade.

I wish school had taught meHow to ask for helpInstead of a box of pillsAnd how to say yes to myselfinstead of saying no to other people.My God, I wish school had taught me how to survive.My God, I wish school had taught me how to tell lies.

Eleanor Moss:I wish school taught meto memorize a fact doesn't come with a free pedestalgoing high horse-less is the road best travelled.

that others aren't a theorem, feelings are no equation,that wearing your heart on your sleeve isjust asking for a punch to the wrist.

Why did I have to find self-lovealone and hiddenin hard to reach places? Why is wholeness unbidden?

I pledge not to come out of my shell,but to grow enough it no longer fits.

I pledge to learn the outskirts of my boundaries,and learn how to take each one of life's hits. I pledge to learn all that I can, then still want more and know my knowledge is just a dropin the earth-sized ocean.

Hannah Sypula:I wish school taught that not everythingyou need to know is taught in schoolTaught tolerance, patience, kindness and understandingTaught that it's okay for a girl to not want to wear a skirtTaught that it's okay for a boy to want toTaught that it's okay if your gender doesn't match your sexTaught that not everyone has a genderTaught that it's not okay to call him, her anymoreTaught that you can love them, him, her, anyone, everyone and no one and it's always okayTaught that you can't help who you are and who you love and that's okay

All:Education is the most powerful weaponWe can use to change the world.We need to unlearn the way weve been taughtTo see ourselves.

I am grateful to be a woman,I must have done something great in another life.

So Im sorry, but not sorry, for fighting for the outcomeIm the King to the Martin Luther and Im the X to the Malcolm Im the full Nelson in Mandela, the Kuti to the Fella,Because our people were rich prior, to Rhianna in umbrellaGodwill Bosama

Diana died driving with Arab blood in her stomach,To preserve the family line she was killed by her own motherMatthew Baines

Loreto CollegeTutor: Kat ONielCoach: Saquib Chowdhury

Team:Maisie Metcalfe-ChungInes Da SilvaGodwill BosamaMatthew BainesAnna TarpeyOlivia Dale-Makin

Most improved:Olivia Dale-Makinif your black don't speak proper because that's too whiteAnd if your white don't speak gangsta because your skins to light . And all Muslims are terrorists right?Anna Tarpey Reality hits hard like baseball bats wrapped round with barbed wireInes Rosario Da Silva

Legacy of RacismTake the lead or take your life. Empire or island? Triumph or tragedy?

Malcom gambled with life and lost,dice rolled round and he got a flush Along with Elvis dying of an overdose.

Terrorist. Burden. Destroyer. Benefactor. Hero. Nelson stood up for what he believed in and Rosa stay sat down. Martin Luther killed King Dictionaries and the stereotypes printed in between the lines. So the CIA took out the King and he was left as a martyr to us and a false prophecy to them.

Your granddad looked up and saw stars and mine saw dead charred bodies hanging like mobiles, mothers no longer singing like lullabies, didnt even get to stay behind. Their sun of freedom set as their wrists turned into metal and they left behind everything and were given a new identity; slave.

Reality hits hard like barbed wire wrapped around baseball bats, took it like gifts but never gave back. Dont fight fire with fire admitting they started the fire. Still savagely attacking us, history rewritten when Panthers protecting cubs turn barbaric, ballistic, brutalyet sheeted ghosts are remains of what is Christian. Flat hands raised in the air we turned into raised fists but paper beats rock.

Words children cannot fathombut still echoed during rap songs,fired down through school corridors and muttered under harsh breaths.

We hear all of this and are told not to react scorned for being the aggressive black man, the passionate Latina and as always pulling out the race card.

Expected to be dormant volcanoes whilst hearing of Trayvon Martin and the words I have a dream at the same time.A broken record of lies repeating the same storysaying it wasnt their fault like they dont benefit from our oppression.

Because we all look alike and they have benefited a thousand times, Because we dance and twists our wrists while simultaneously bending ourselves into a new society. Because were ashamed of our accents broken English and ugly accents. Because black children being murdered gets drowned out in the news. Go to the beach and pick up a shell, youll hear their voices; What are you following me for? I dont have a gun, stop shooting! Why did you shoot me? Please dont let me die. And yet the dead are still painted as thugs, told they deserved it because of their looks, racism simplified in black and white, crushed paracetamol hidden in cocaine lines.

#HandsUpDontShoot turns into #PantsUpDontLoot, as if wearing a belt changes your complexion and people will look at your skin without question. Theres only one way to kill a tree; you take away its roots.

Ines Rosario da Silva

Were not Racist

Everyone over the age of 18 can vote, black, white, man, woman, gay, straight,as long as you live in the countries that matter,the ones who's wallets like their stomachs only get fatter the ones who get their rights served to them on a silver platter. If not, you better stab, shoot, bomb the ones who leadtill the knife wounds in dictatorship bleed.Till all your children breatheIn the dust of defeat or victory.But that's okay because we're not racistDifferent races no longer fight But if youre black don't speak proper because that's too whiteAnd if your white don't speak gangsta because your skins too light And all Muslims are terrorists, right?

Anna TarpeyOverdose

Many people have OD'd or got shot in the head,I want to be known for what I've jotted in lead,Cobain took his life,He was a slave to the trigger,Made a lot corporate money but lost a lot of his vigour,Diana died driving with Arab blood in her stomach,To preserve the family line she was killed by her own mother.Biggie and Tupac got bullets between their eyes,Because money in man's hands makes man demonise,Demons in the alleys and street corners we walk through,How many deaths have we actually thought through?I want to wonder through the sand and carve art into the rocks,Why would you try and confine an artist to a box?I am the war torn force inside the army getting shot,I am the cast iron cannon shell left for dead to rot.Mandela delved far too deep into the food chain,Died too soon before welcoming a new day,Who will be remembered forever or for a century?Who will remember me for marking my legacy?I will paint words on the walls of the Vatican,Induce panic, send death threats to Cameron,I'm not trying to be arrogant,I'm just trying to be truthful,I'm not searching this world for approval.for approval.

Matthew Baines

Group Poem: Im Sorry

I'm sorry I ripped your heart from your body and placed it in your mothers tears I'm sorry I tore the world from your eyes and nailed them shut I'm sorry I pulled the words from your lips and suffocated them with soil I'm sorry I bound your hands with bandages and bouquets

I'm sorry I broke your bones and filled your carcass with earthworms and dirt I'm sorry I cut out your soul and wove it into their mournful hymn I'm sorry I covered your ears so you can't hear them singAnna TarpeIm sorry for believing that we had freedom,Leading the lost sheep to follow a righteous causeAnd living in age where we wouldnt need to fight these sinful warsIm sorry for, having dreams about equalityHaving sustained a great amount of loyaltyBut imprisoned for expressing my individualityHow can this be the land of the free?When youre still locking me up for my ethnicityIm sorry for, asserting my views on living in paradiseThough for every coloured man who speaks: another must pay a priceThey eliminated Red and King to be preciseWhile Madiba got lucky with his breathing deviceIm sorry for, our sacrifice, educating the future generationsSo children of colour can prosper in life just like the CaucasiansNot that being Caucasian is bad,But white privilege is something we never hadSo Im sorry, but not sorry, for fighting for the outcomeIm the king to the Martin Luther and Im the X to the Malcomn Im the full Nelson in Mandela, the Kuti to the Fella,Because our people were rich prior, to Rhianna in umbrellaIm sorry, but not sorry, about the things that I sayBecause our death is just another scene in the length of a playSo I promise you this when I lay in my grave My coffin will be another slab in the path that we pavedGodwill BosamaIndifference

What is the yearning for our dust to bescattered? Small pieces and small memoriesCould I ever live up to the fantasy of that one child full of energy?Waiting for the pleasure of the futureshe prays with not enough for the day never will she find her right suitorhow many hours did she let slip away?Now shes the girl on the screens at homeno nothings going to get in her way.Praying to a god she doesnt knowshes going to get herself hurt someday.When I look back it was always a waste of timefrom that perfect start to the finish lineBecause when it flashes,flashes just before my eyes, it wont be starsand the endless universe and possibilitiesit will be where I was once grounded,but I ripped out my roots when they were thriving so deeply.but the earth they grew in didnt want to be the thing to hold it in.I wish they held that little girlwho wanted the stars,endless universe and possibilities.Maisie Metcalfe-Chung

Addiction & SicknessIm on the verge of tears, but I cant tip over into the sea.Im as dry as a withered orchard, with its twisted, copper leaves.I could have been beautiful its probable that I am in some unreachable nonexistence; a place desirable, so grand.

I am not the perfect catch, for I cant be spontaneous and adventurous if I cant even move.I am one with this bleached bed by metaphorical, translucent tube roots.

It narrows down my opportunities when Im as influential as an ant; I stand for the CANT in INSIGNIFICANT scratch that. I cant stand.

When your life only counts for a statistic, nobody will hang onto your arm. Nobody will kiss you just to kiss you, or work to see you smile.

I guess Id like to formally apologise for being alive. Occupying a hospital bed and draining tubes of white lines; draining oxygen from the air for lungs destined to die. From within this cocoon, Ill form a corpse, without a butterfly.

I am worthless! I am worthless. Its fed into my brain. I read these lines and watch the 2D screens, and nothing will ever change. These patches on my arms only leave my skin to turn a shade of green I feel envy for the living, for they live for more than me.

Oh, no. Im a disease. The sickness within me has become my anatomy. I breathe in the helpless cureand they shoot fluids into my veins but, as I exhale the waste, my throat becomes enflamed. Matthew Baines:

You deodorised the room with incense,Caught globules of blood on your tongue as my lips bled,You want me to talk,With shallow eyes and a concave facial structure,You held time between the tips of your fingers.Running your mouth,Letting your tongue tiptoe across ledges,And I cling to your words,You cut yourself and bleed, Please tell me it hurts.This is the moment where time is indescribable,And indefinite,The needle trips across my arm,Causes harm, but feels delicate,You are my carefully selected saviour,Turned my back on the world and was stabbed in the trachea,I romanticised the act of lying,This apple green dishonesty,Was the taste of bitter aniseed.A passion died today,A heart bled away and fell precisely four feet beneath ground,I saw your recycled brain in the lost and found,Stop and bow, the sun thirsts for your obedience,Your tin foil fingers left prints on my skin,And tinted me devious,Please tell me it hurts.

Consumed by misery and bound by white walls and signatures, God is absent in this existence, for his preachers have never saved this nonbeliever. I am not lost, yet never found, with the erasure of a body in a black bag with one name and no face and a fading memory that leaves the Earth with one simple breath and I am gone, with my last.

I lack love and livid rage; a thirst to live again or for my enemy, sickness, to be slain. I am gone, with no remains, save for one headstone amongst thousands in hospital records.Still Born AbortionMaisie & Ines:How many deaths have the walls of womens insides seen?How many times have women watched as their lovers dream,Of being somewhere else where they didnt lose their greatest treasure.A child that couldve wished for their forever.

Ines:Wild nights and craving attention merely a teen, yet you still go on what could have beenMy life tearing at the seams, a graveyard of faulty dreamsPro-life rallies knitted together, however thread looser than ever

Maisie:Sat, crawled, walked, talked, recited.You can see pain through shuteye lids,Dont feel it on dead flesh,Your child was not destined to die but to take its first breath.

My child cant wonder what gentle song would be played next.But yours couldve.My child cant wonder which sweet theyd like best.But yours couldve. My child cant wonder what treasures lay under the Christmas tree.Yours could have.

Ines:Sympathy is what you lack, do you even care about the clothes on my back?Life already living but you want the ones that due,sorry his room wasnt painted baby blue

Maisie:My child doesnt have the chance to wonderif their first love could be the everything they wished for.And yours couldve loved,Loved as much as a mother kissing her baby goodbyeas she would a thousand times over.There may never have been a child with a gentler face and a weaker grip on the worldAnd to have taken the world by a storm,Wouldve made it rain but it didnt grow to form by simply not being born.

Ines:Maybe youll realise when youre older, I didnt have the devil on my shoulderI could have been mother of one and you were left as mother of one.

But I did not kill my son.

Anatomy does not equal PersonalityCan you hear the people sing?Can you hear the innocent lives thud across the concrete?Can you hear the chants from their throats as they march on, tear up and choke?

Can you hear the ignorant claim that justice was dealt to the pile of stagnant corpses they turn away from?Can you hear the people sing?

No. The voices of the slain are inaudible.Just because it is 2014, it doesnt mean racism is nowhere to seen.It doesnt mean discrimination is dead and gone, for you risk slaughter if you walk the streets and your skin colours wrong.

If your gender is wrong.If your sexuality is wrong.If you are religious, then you must consider that we are all made in the image of God despite different faces, different names.

And, the person that you judged before you met has a piece of that within their heart, their head.And, if science is your jam then you must understand that the only difference between a white man and a black man is the pigment of their flesh.

No one is born a devil, and all are born fresh.Hands up, dont shoot!But, the only person with a gun here is you. The policeman, the protector -the one who claims that he is the bringer of justicewhen an unarmed black kid is shot until his death.

Screaming in the street lights with tear gas in their eyes,with fire in their throats,they make a deal with the night.

If their legacy spreads from the way they fought and all they have done is for more than noughtthen the night may have its victims.But, the night that falls over Ferguson, L.A, New York, Syria, Palestine, Iraq, Gaza-that night is a dirty, cheating thief.

Its demons and its deeds breed disease into those who cling to the right to breathe.They strike down the many for the views of the fewleaving kids burning from seething burdens of bullet wounds.The scars embedded in their flesh in grotesque, bleeding runes.Didnt they deserve the right to choose?

All is dead and gone, save for those left to lose more.Save for the ones left to abhor the corpses of the slain, the ignored.Those beneath police car rims, bruised, bleeding from their cores.

They are the victims left without recognition; villanised in the public eye with no respect despite the injustice leaving them cast aside.

Whilst Im thinking: have you done your research?Its a recognised condition to live a gender dysphoric existence.A development in an embryo that just doesnt go and leaves you feeling like you must undergo surgery and change your anatomy, change the you that everybody knows.Why is it your business what somebody looks like beneath their clothes?

Whether theyre an attractive woman or a transgender stranger or a black man with a hanging belt that makes him look like he has a gun -its none of your business, and you probably wont know if you have any common sense and leave them to themselves, unless they give you consent.Olivia Dale-Makin

WRHSG 6th formWhalley Range High School for GirlsTutor: Desiree Reynolds

Team:Rowan MohammedAshia KhanHannah GhafoorAsma AmirMaaria Ahmad

Most improved:Asma Amir

Awards:Best line: a womans blood is the ink which etches every mans name into existence Aisha A

Postponed Ambition

An illusionary world is the place of all beginnings You may attend due to your hesitation, When they cry they shed their tears hoping to conquer their fears,Over a thousand years.

Devastation was used as an excuse to cover their lack of passion. You see those who pardon themselves for all achievements, where no word has a sound or vibration delve within their bereavementa recurring scene within a location. It is devoid of all people it goes on forever with no sequelBut for those who do achieve say it pays off at the end of the day. Only those who can cope will find it easier to elope the misfortunes and problems. Obstacles may arise there is nothing you can do but synchronise.

Harmonise your thoughts and enjoy your detours Because if you don't then your true ambition has been postponed.

Asma Loud and Clear by MariaI say it loud and clear I conceive it right up here I believe and achieve right in hereL ilha ill-llh, muhammadun raslu-llhThere is no god butgod, Muhammad is the messenger of God.

Its a way of life it teaches us what is right But some of you portray it as a frightI do wonder why the skies are feeling so blueI guess its the reflected truthThat some people just dont realise.

The pain they cause to those who feel alive I feel upset when I see my own murder our ownThey seem to forget we are all one, not to be alone, But some of you blame us all and say our minds are born the sameTry to put us to shame and all we do is endure the pain, for the sake of our own game.

A reflected truthAll we strive for is peaceAs long as there are no feesSo tell me please what I have to doTo make you see what I believe.

Cos Im Muslim you think Im husslin but Im only strugglingCos you make me feel Im troublingI dont know why we always blamed for everything.

Even though we gaze so lowAnd we tiptoe so you dont even know,We cant even breathe Because you seem to leave Anything good we try to achieve.Untitled

Let your brother collect you from school, it will be safer

O-Hella no You better hold on Cuz hes only seven and ben 10 still rules

Would a fair fight be between a man whose half the age of a woman?

Some might say yes!Cuz whats the worst she gonna do?Cant hit hard enough!And all shes good for is making tea

Well if it takes two to make a child, why is it that we always make the dinner?

And why is it that what men fear most about going to prison, is what women fear most about walking down the street?

So when youre chattin to girls Oi sweet bits,Can I have your digits?But wait, hang on broYour mums back at home And shes slaving over your tea.Not because its her jobBut because you give her no choice

Or is it a cover up?You can choose what you believe, Whether Allah, God, or someone who you devote yourself toDont let anyone choose for you.

Patriarchy is the main enemy,As they have a tendency towards extremity.So dont walk along their frequency Heads will roll, but to what purpose?

You stereotype all men and women You see a Hijabi and be like woah shes a Punjabiand so is a jihadi.

Like an Iron Man villain, spitting and crazyMuslim is the new blackBut the oppressors oppress the apparent oppressedNo one can be the blessed and not bless the rest,Im blessing the stage with a reflected truth.You see a man with a beard and a hat on his head Straight away you think hes gunna shoot everyone deadBut all the looks seem to be mislead.

Hey, wait a minute I see all this fussin as good attention So long as I dont get mentioned Otherwise Ill be sentencedBut you know what? I dont care The police have stopped me time and time again,even when Im taking out my bin.

Dare to wear a rucksackLabelled me with convictions and yet again there are other victims.

But nothing can stop me, drop me or even trap me As Ill remember the words of Maya Angelou I rise and still I rise Ill rise above mountains, fight for my freedom in any kind of kingdom,I say it loud and clear and believe it right in hereIm Muslim and proud!

Because its too much for you to comprehendDoes the sugar come before youve dunked the bag in hot water?Or before the milks pored over?

So welcome to the struggle homie!Lifes a b**ch

But She Aint Yours

So if you wanna play the feminist game at least know how it goes!

So your lovely mummiesShes worth all your dirty nappiesAnd all your yellow stains,Cuz guys dont lie You know you cant aim.

Your girlShes worth more than all your Soddy, damp textsAll your tell-tale liesAll youre understated comments that proveYoure not sure what you see in her

And ladies and gentlemen Heres a tipIt takes two to make a child So it looks likeSon

Youre on dinner!

I want to be free Free of restraints Free of codes of conduct Free to be a pen which adheres to no laws made by man Free to travel where no border meets my arrival To stare down at my captors with defiance Free to be me with no fear of violence A girl who knows that: a womans blood keeps this world rotating on its axis. A girl who knows that:a womans blood is the ink which etches every mans name into existenceThe silhouettes bounce of the walls, Morphing into another of my pre-conceived fears Fear of beingA woman A female A girlA second class citizen Fear of existence I awash the room in watercolours With liquid dust I paint a picture of the girl I want to be.

Aisha PoemI want to be a book An idea which cannot be conceived Because my pages are a dozen roses Whose thorns pierce through your skinTo shake the fear from every girl To tell them that the world still worked When there were no mirrors to be afraid ofI want to be that girlA woman neither caged in 5 letters 2 syllables and 1 word Nor someone who allows these 5 letters the power to absorb all that is within meAnd pin me down to the nearest dictionaryThey tell me not to let loose too many opinions; As if I were beggar stealing gold from the rich.My words are a sword; they are not fixed by their beauty But by the speed in which they roll of my tongue and cut you. Now, tell me if every other girl is just like me

Nothing is realistic in this world, and it is our jobs to go above and beyond, as we only have one life. Amy Porter

you can love them, him, her, anyone, everyone and no one and it's always okay Hannah Sypula

Only the deaf can hear us scream,Only the blind can see us dream. Ryan Miles

we're not here to fulfil sexpectations,nor to be meek, or to make your food. Eleanor Moss Xaverian CollegeCoach: Reece Williams

Supporting Staff: Marianne Daniels & Guy Perry

Team:Ryan MilesAmy PorterEleanor MossSiobhan DawsonPatricia SnakeHannah Sypula

Most improved:Eleanor Moss

Awards:

Best Team 2014 (Sixth Form Colleges)

Best Performers: Amy Porter,Patricia Snake Hannah SypulaAnother It's just another tear in the rain,Another heavy sigh in the wind,There comes a point when you're lost,Where every step is in the wrong direction.

It's the crossroads uneven,It's the breeze of change settling in,A point where every action has no meaning,It's pointless fighting anymore.

The best has come and gone,Whilst the worst is non-existent,Off the coast in a sea of grey,You'll drown in the monotony.

It's the feeling of giving up at last,Once the mundanity has worn you out,You lose all sense and feelings,You take your eyes off of the road.

Once all focus is lost from you,One little spark will set the world alight,Once your world is in ruins,

Then you'll know what you miss and regret.Once the ashes settle in the rubble,The flood come to take it all away,Then the storms catch you in the eye,And all hope is gone.

There's no way out but giving up,So closing your eyes seems the only option,But we can brave the bitter storms together,So please just stay awake with me.

It is a long walk to freedom

By Ryan Miles.Looking at meShe is looking at meWith big brown eyesThe colour of chocolate,Not that she knows what that is.

And her feet dig into the sandWhich is nothing like the beaches in Hawaii,Not that she knows what they look like.

She is looking at me,And she does not know how to tell meThat she is hungryThat she is lonelyThat she is afraid.

Just like I do not know how to tell herThat her father is not coming home.

Just like I do not know how to tell herThat the world is not coming to save her,Because it would rather talk about celebrities and bank accountsThan listen to her story.

And she is looking at me andIAmLookingBackAtHer

And I realiseThat the news does not always tell usThe stories we ought to hear.

And Mayas words ring true,There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside of you.

by Patricia SnakeEVERYONEEducation is the most powerful weapon,We can use to change the world.

But what if it has been used against us?

SIOBHANI wish school had taught meThat poetry doesnt write itselfThat I can dance without stepsAnd sing without wordsThat I can see without lightBut never forget

That real life can be cruelAnd true love can be fakeThat you can play by the rulesAnd you get what you take

I wish someone had taught meThat my story wont write itselfThat I make the steps to my danceAnd the lyrics to my songI make the light in my darknessAnd choose remembrance.AMYI wish school taught me how to be my own person,that your life isn't defined by a grade or number.I wish it taught me how to be an astronaut instead of teaching me how to play it safe.

I wish it taught me things that I enjoyed, things that I wanted to partake in, instead of being submerged into a 50 minute lesson that my heart or mind wasn't in.

I wish it taught me that it was okay to daydream, that the things I thought about while looking out of a window could actually amount to something.

I pledge to learn that life isn't about playing it safe, that if a child has dreams of becoming of the world, then authorities shouldn't dismiss this, simply because they don't have the confidence or drive to try for anything spectacular.

I pledge to learn that exceeding peoples expectations isn't a something to be sheepish about,dreams are a sole basis of who you are and should never be forgotten about, just because your parents may think that they're unrealistic.

Nothing is realistic in this world, and it is our jobs to go above and beyond, as we only have one life.

I wish school taught me that I only have one life.EVERYONEEducation is the most powerful weapon,We can use to change the world.

It is time for parents to teach young people early on that in diversity there is beauty and there is strength.

PATRICIAI wish my school had taught me how to tell liesHow to keep my mouth locked shutAnd my fists clenched tightAnd my eyes wide open and say"No, you did not see me with that girl."

I wish school had taught meThat they would not believe me.I wish school had taught me how towrap up my hands andpatch up my woundsand speak with a voice as heavy as a church sermon when I say"I will stay with you no matter what."

I wish school had taught me how tofind a safe placeinstead of the square root of piand how to reach for a peninstead of a blade.

I wish school had taught meHow to ask for helpInstead of a box of pillsAnd how to say yes to myselfinstead of saying no to other people.My God, I wish school had taught me how to survive.My God, I wish school had taught me how to tell lies.ELEANORI wish school taught meto memorize a fact doesn't come with a free pedestalgoing high horse-less is the road best travelled.

that others aren't a theorem, feelings are no equation-that wearing your heart on your sleeve isjust asking for a punch to the wrist

why did I have to find self love alone- hidden,in hard to reach places? why is wholeness unbidden.

I pledge not to come out of my shell,but to grown enough it no longer fits.

I pledge to learn the outskirts of my boundaries,and learn how to take each one of life's hits. I pledge to learn all that I can, then still want more- and know my knowledge is just a drop in the earth size-ocean.

HANNAHI wish school taught that not everythingyou need to know is taught in schoolTaught tolerance, patience, kindness and understandingTaught that it's okay for a girl to not want to wear a skirtTaught that it's okay for a boy to want toTaught that it's okay if your gender doesn't match your sexTaught that not everyone has a genderTaught that it's not okay to call him, her anymoreTaught that you can love them, him, her, anyone, everyone and no one and it's always okayTaught that you can't help who you are and who you love and that's okay

EVERYONEEducation is the most powerful weaponWe can use to change the world.We need to unlearn the way weve been taughtTo see ourselves.

I am grateful to be a woman,I must have done something great in another life.

RYAN Emotional baggage weighs us down,Whilst a dead issue helps us drown,Only the deaf can hear us scream,Only the blind can see us dream,We can only find guilt in bliss,So suffer eternally after this.

We can only watch as accusations fly,No matter who they hurt or who will die,There's no empathy in the world we live in,A life differentiated is not lost in sin,Why should we be uncomfortable in our own skin?When all evil is rooted deep within.

It is all dependent on where we lay our stones,Or which hollowed soul lives upon our thrones,Throughout the darkest nights our worlds were torn apart,One by one, they tore out our still beating heart,This is a day to washed clean and buried away,Keen hatred still keeps the wounds fresh today.HANNAHYou are a liar beyond any doubtYou are the one we were all warned about,You are the pathetic excuses to our governmentYou are a criminal you'll get your punishment.

You abuse your power like the American policeYet you still stick around can't you leave us in peace?You are the mislaid trust in our justice systemYou know what you've done are you ready to listen?

We are many and we are strongWe see through your stories now we know you've done wrongWe are no longer just passive wallflowersNow we've seen your colours we will no longer cowerWe are not afraid we will not runWe will be relentless until justice is done.ELEANOR (Women Do as They Please):Prettiness is not what I'm here fornot your eyes, nor your enjoymentcatcalls aren't compliments and you're notinnocent

I'm here to laugh, to fight, to struggle - to cryif I don't wear a smile I don't have to trywomanly is synonymous with warlikeladylike with dangerousfeminine with ferociousfor who ever fights the system for longerwho is beaten down, but comes out stronger?

makeup isn't a lie, it's war paint.they try to divide us into boxes,bitch, slut, prude,we're not here to fulfil sexpectations,nor to be meek, or to make your food.

don't you dismiss me, disrespect me,we refuse to hide who we are, what we want to be,to make you comfortable.

women will do as they please,with or without you on your knees.

we don't need any permissionto exist, treated right-bloodied war queens bulk our might.

I do not know how to tell herThat the world is not coming to save her Patricia Snake

I wish someone had taught meThat my story wont write itself Siobhan Dawson

Nothing is realistic in this world, and it is our jobs to go above and beyond, as we only have one life. Amy Porter

6th FORM WINNERS:

BEST TEAM: XaverianBEST PERFORMER: AMY PATRICIA HANNAH WHALLEY RANGEBEST STANZA: AISHAA womans blood etches vwery man into existenceYEAR 9 WINNERS:

BEST TEAM: WRHSG BEST PERFORMER: ADNANBEST LINE: INES DA SILVA The only way to kill a tree is to pull up its rootsRESULTS BHM 20142014

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