Cenotaph - Larissa Ransom

In London stands
Tall pillar of stone
And
Etched upon this grey
reminder
The words of father
author
patriot
Wreathed in laurel crowns
(Grieving victory):
“The Glorious Dead”.

And we look
And salute
And remember
And we add silent words of our own
To the numerous heroes
Whose corpses lie in places
unknown
The ones who saved the lives
of those they loved
And the lives we live today.

The Hidden Truth - Millie Guille

Screams curdle the essence of your blood.
They stop the rhythmic beatings of the heart;
A skittish pulse forms and throbs
And creeps its way towards the temple.

I saved her from her father’s curse,
His frantic hands clawing fabric folds
And tearing buttons from her shirt
To accompany his morals on the floor.

I was the hero, just ask the girl.
She’ll tell you indirectly though.
Her voice is lost – the truth remains
Buried and clasped between her lips.

A Requiem For Dreams - Michael Handrick (Y13, St Bart's)

I find it enticingly deceptive
To get lost within the tainted mirror.
Conjure an image of passionate hope,
Reflect hidden sins into a lurid
Fixation of where we destroy the truth.
You think what we view is reality?
On one side it’s an apple of knowledge
The other, a Fall into destruction.
The Dream is Mirrored, two worlds of confusion.

Black with gold glamour and desperate hopes,
Aspirations lost in an abyss.
How they taunt us in sinister delight:
The abandoned dreams, the dreams unachieved.
This is their elegy, of the dreams that
Forever will be reflected in that
Tainted Mirror of deception. It is
Time to wake up, and
Let the mirror Fall.

Untitled Dream #1 - Daniel Morton (Y13, St Bart's)

I dreamt of the statue,
In the garden,
When I was a boy,
I would imagine her hands.
Frail and old,
Soft and cold.
Taking hold,
Of a hazel handled tool.
Carving hands with hands.
The wires tangled round her fingers
And around the head.
Brushing back the ivy.

I remember those eyes,
Unworldly eyes,
Forgotten in time.
Painted on with her brush,
So the lashes did flush.
Sad and wise.
Then the eyes fall asleep
And wake up.

The Limits of Man - Aidan Clifford (Y12, St Bart's)

I am a nocturnal genius, reeking of ideas, drowning in new principles
Sweating the ignorance out of myself in a shameless sleeping purge
I balance ambitions on a needle point, sink equations into my veins

My pupils dilate with inspiration, it pushes against my skull
I collect it in pools and write it in fluid words that would sway you

It hurts me that you are blind to this, that you cannot perceive my dreams
But I will forget I am a genius; in waking I will be unremarkable, it will not hurt so much
I dream myself unique; can disregard my masculinity and the sickness in the world

How can I illuminate my dreams for you? Project them like a film reel
I want them to be crucified in the sky and see all other human endeavour eclipsed
Quickly! Before the everyday shatters my grand thinking, my revelations
In my waking hours I degenerate into a frustrated madness, trying to reproduce my brilliance
All I am left with is shadows

I try coating myself in my innovation, wrap myself in dirty bedclothes,
My tongue is tied to ordinary proclamations, my mind impotent, my thoughts mundane
What riddle are these dreams which bless me when I cannot articulate word or action?
Then I am hauled into this imbecilic state, drooling in my ineffectiveness; altogether ordinary

My dreams are all I cannot express; all that strays beyond what I can say and all I can be
You will never hear those words

Woman, my dreams are a love song to you

Two-Faced Minds - Chris Bloomfield (Y12, St Bart's)

The windows close and finally my mind is working again.
I ride the rainbow rollercoaster and soar off into the beyond,
I race the stars and shoot across the cosmos,
I dance in the Milky Way and take the centre stage,
The audience applauds me and I see their faces full of happiness and joy.
And I am loved by all.

All of a sudden rose petals fall from above.
They are full of life and colour and they fall only for me.
For a moment I am a legend, I am a star.

But something changes.

The centre stage collapses into a heap of broken hearts,
The rainbow disappears and is replaced with cruelty and malice,
The crowd’s cheers have been replaced with hatred and abuse,
Their faces change into lifeless, malevolent scars with no hope and no freedom.
The petals are dead and motionless,
And when they touch me I am burnt and pain sears through my body.

I am imprisoned inside my mind.
And darkness engulfs me.
And darkness engulfs me.

The windows open.

In The World of Dreams - Larissa Ransom (Y10, St Bart's)

I’m sailing on an Empty Ocean,
The Night Sky, a Curtain of Stars.

I’m wandering through Overgrown Forests,
The Tiger, he sees me, I run.

I’m riding into Battle on the Heath land,
The Army behind me; I command

I’m fighting the Mighty Dragon,
The Creature attacks, I dodge.

I’m in the World of Dreams,
The Places; Creations of my Imagination.

Midnight Music - Miranda Hall (Y8, St Bart's)

Midnight Music
The clock is ticking,
I cannot sleep.
I can feel my heart beating,
At the same speed.

The clock still ticks,
Like a metronome,
Keeping the midnight music in the beat.

Rain taps on the window,
Like the sound of maracas.
My heart is the bass guitar.
Owls sing an eery tune,
While shadows dance above my head.

New sounds break into the song;
Violins screaming,
Trumpets blowing,
Louder and louder…

The car just missed the cat.

Silence.
The clock is ticking,
I cannot sleep.

The Dream - Victoria Weems (Y7, St Bart's)

Lying asleep in your bed,
All your dreams rushing through your head,
Maybe you will go to a fantasy land,
Where a handsome prince will take you by the hand,
Or maybe you’ll find a treasure chest,
The you’ll become a pirate’s guest,
You’ll sail the seas far and wide,
And then you’ll be a pirate’s bride,
Perhaps you will go to magical land,
Taking a ride in a giant’s hand,
Some dreams are nice,
Some are not,
But when you’re awake,
Take what you’ve got.