Mati Meyer, The Personification of Zion in Byzantine Psalters with Marginal Illustrations
Poems With Personification
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Transcript of Poems With Personification
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8/3/2019 Poems With Personification
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Poems with
personificationWillow Class
September 2011
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My house is a couch under a cushion
The people who own me just hurt me.
I am grey, dull, unloved.
I used to be shiny before they left me forgotten.
I wait, day after day for someone to respect me.
But they just sit on me, press me.
Their dog bites me.
They always talk about a new one.
How I hate being a remote control.
The Rubbish Remote
Felicity Holder
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The Poor Cheerio
I live in a cardboard box,
Inside a dark cupboard
Where Weetabix howls and Coco-pops rustle.
When the lady with the golden hair
Slowly opens the door,
My heart races as she picks up my house.
I get tumbled over and pushed against my friends
As Im put into a large, white bowl.
The milk pours in as I hold my breathe
And try to swim to the surface that I cannot reach.
A giant metal object comes,
But when I try to get away,
Im squished and broken into pieces.
I miss the days back in the golden fields
Where the sun gleamed down on me.
by Deryn Campbell
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8/3/2019 Poems With Personification
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The Cuckoo clock
Nobody looks at me,I just sit here.Time passes but nobody cares.Five minutes to spare but nobody cares.If only I could flipping speak.
Just look at me, for goodness sake.Cant you see, youre going to be late!Dont you know, youve got a clock?Here we go again, 1 2 3 Cuckoo, Cuckoo.
I hate it.Every day, Cuckoo, Cuckoo, every hour.It gets so annoying.But nobody listens to me.Its just a joke going on and on.
Darcie Hambidge
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The Unknown ClockI hang on the wall,Day after day
Watching the time go by.
I was silver and sparkly once, you know,Now Im nothing.
No one loves me.I glance here,I glance there.
Does anyone care?
If I were gone no one would know.To them Im a clock with no feeling.
But I do feel.One, two, three.No one cares.
Scarlet Clements
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The busI live in a huge placeIts dark in here.
Staying here doing nothing,Just waiting for my owner.
I see him, I want to shout to him.He goes to the door. It opensI see others. They go out.
He looks at me.Im really excited.
He gets on,He kicks me so I go.I turn without effort
He kicks me againSo I go faster
He kicks me in a different place
I stop. More people come on.
The more people on,
The happier I am.
I go for a round.I see lovely sights.
I stop again, everyone off.
Im turned back,
Home I go.
Robin Disbrey
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8/3/2019 Poems With Personification
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Playing GamesI like to be played on.
I sit on a shelf.Im very sad when I dont get played with,So frustrated, so angry.I just want to be played with.
When Im happy I spin the disc
The players have fun and get excitedPlaying the game.
Suddenly I get turned off.Im so shocked.
All I want to do is spin a disc.
No body likes me,All they do is play on meAnd let me gather dust.
Jack Romanek
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The Cross Clock
I live on a wall or a shelf.
I get cross when people ignore me.Im surrounded by antiques and toysEvery day I look out the window.
Shes gone for a nap at half past three.I ring my bell but she ignores me.I want to scream its half past five,If only I could talk.
Tic toc, tic toc, times ticking away.Youve got your SATs,
Youve got your work,Youve got to go today.
Pia Robinson
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The Crazy ClockI am a clock,A very bored clock.Nobody ever looks at me;Its like Im invisible.
I am pink,
I used to sparkle.No one loves me.I have feelings you know!
3, 2, 1Br, br, br, br, br,I am so angryI hate every clock.
Emily Cole
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8/3/2019 Poems With Personification
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I Want to Be a LeadI am a collar
Attached to a dog!I hate my life,I get ripped to pieces.No one loves me!
No one likes me.I care for the dogBut the dog hates me.
They put holes in me.When they wash meThey drown me.I want to be lead!
Jules Hird
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8/3/2019 Poems With Personification
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The GunI spend hours shooting pigeons.That ungrateful farmer,
He makes me, he makes me!I have to kill things,I dont want to but I have to.
Why, in the factory didnt they turn me
Into a tin, or a clock, or even a paper clip?But no.I had to be a gun.
I love being cleaned with the brushAnd the feel of the shells being loaded.But then I know it will be timeTo spit out the shellsAnd I hear them crying,Bang, bang, bang.
Archie Pope-Kirby
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The Sad Aeroplane
I live in a place that has junk
Im sad because I have gas problems.
Everyday I go off and ??
I have feelings you know.
I wish I could talkI feel sorry for any plane.
I hate my job.
Oliver Cole
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ClockIm a simple thing.
My hands go round, never stopping.They never look at me.
Its like Im invisible.I used to be looked at
All the time.I used to be bright and shine.
Tic tok tic tok.
Im going to be sad until Im looked at.Ring, ring, ring,
There goes his new alarm clock.I hate my life.
Aidan Jones
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The Lonely Ammonite
Day after day I sat there,Staring out to sea.With waves washing over, I think,Of the days when I,Me, was alive.
My carved-looking shellHas a shiny, glossy look.Salty tears fill my eyes,As I sit here dreamingOf my golden days.
Hundreds, thousands,Many years ago,
I was like a monster,
Like a fish in the sea,
With my lined, spiral shell
I lived down deep,
Beneath the monstrous waves.
In a sea of happiness,
With no more salty tears
And just what I want love.
Annabel Skidmore
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The King of AirI live in a shed with others of my kind.Sometimes I rest, but I live to fly.
I see different countries and cloud at the same time.
I move out of the shed and expect the bus to arrive.The people pour out and climb the stairs to me.I await the words,This is your captain speaking,We are flying to SpainAnd expect to be there on time.
I move down the runway,Faster and faster,
To fly higher and higher above the clouds.Three or four hours before I land.
The people have goneThe paperwork is done.
I fly off into the distance.Will I come back?
James Harden
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8/3/2019 Poems With Personification
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The Proud Metal Bird
Im a giant metal bird,
I roar as stuff gets on my back.Im running to get flight.
Im bigger than the biggest bird,
I can fly higher than the highest.I can fly the fastest.
And then Im free.I fly through all weathers
To get to my birth place.
The clouds get in my wayBut I will fly through them.
Nothing is better than me.
Alex Wakley
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The PSP
The psp waits all dayUntil the owner comes to play.It lies behind the curtainGazing out the window.
Longing, longing for the owner to return
To feel the pressure on the switchThe surge of the power.And life begins.
When I play too muchI go slower and slower
And boomThe battery has fainted.
Need first aidNeed to charge it.Get the lifeline quick
Before the memory is lost
Suddenly the lifeline appearsWith a bright screamLife is saved.
Luis Andrade
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8/3/2019 Poems With Personification
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The Sad TVI sit on the wall
Day and night
Looking at an old blue wall.
When will someone turn me on?
All they have to do is turn me on!
I hope someday someone will just turn a channel on.
Shaun Oakey
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8/3/2019 Poems With Personification
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The X BoxIt swallows all games around it
Then it throws the games back up.He joins his flat mate, TV, and his Connect Sensor
To play a game.
He loves to play games.
He is so excited when I walk in the house.
Then he hears the door close and the car start
And his head bows down again.
When I run in and up the stairsHis head comes up.He is so glad when he gets turned on.
The time goes by so quickly.Its time to go to sleep again.Im so bored, Im so bored.When is he going to play again?
I love my life as an X box. Luke Curtis
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The Air BeastIt waits in its bed, wanting to fly.
A ladder hugs it
The people come in.
The pilot starts it.
Soon it walks
Now it runs
Then jumps, eating the clouds
Snorting the air.
Looking forward?? and turning aroundLooking for more airports.
Then finally
It touches the groundIt sighs with relief that it is on the ground.Now he goes to his bed
Before it starts again.
Ciaran Watt
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X BoxIt waits, carelessly
Hours go by.
It waits, lonelyWaiting for its turn.
It entertains its friendsKeeping them busy.
It hears a noiseBursts out with exciting rage.
Nothing.
Hours go by,
Waiting.
Something stomping down the stairs
The oak door slams.
Gutted with rage. Cameron Shankland
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The Lost, Forgotten RadioI sit on the shelf all day every day.
I have never been anywhere else.
I sit and wait for the family,
Wait, wait, wait.
While I wait I stare at a yellow wall.
I try to tell them my facts and knowledge
But they wont listen to me!
I wish someone would listen.
I am buzzing with facts.
After all I get told new stuff every day.
But theyre too busy with their TV and games consoles.Just because I dont have colour or pictures
Oh I wish someone would listen,
I just want to sing my heart out!
I am not sure if I have been replaced
Because I only talk and sing.
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The BookI tell you my story
Wherever I am.Word after wordLine after line.
When I am usedI open and closeDay and night.
When they have had enoughThey feed me.
My spine is breaking
My words are fading.
I do not have long to go.
I was hard wearing but time has ticked on.
My friends and I sit on a shelf,
Waiting to be used.
All of them have a story to tell.
Most of them young, some of them old.
All of them just like me.
Eleanor Daft