Am 25. Mai 2023 war der britische Dichter und Performance Poet Ty’rone Haughton in der 7D zu Besuch. Die Schülerinnen und Schüler lernten im Rahmen des Poetry Workshops zunächst über die Theorie des Gedichteschreibens; dann trug ihnen der Autor eines seiner Gedichte vor. Im Anschluss starteten sie ihren eigenen Schreibprozess. Im und nach dem Workshop entstanden bemerkenswerte Texte und Gedichte.

Hier ist eine kleine Auswahl:

It was a hot, sunny day,
the first one after weeks full of rain, which made it seem warmer.
You could hear the thunder crackling, rumbling and rattling,
slightly off beat, which made it seem louder.
You could hear flies, beetles and bees,
hear them chirping, buzzing and squeaking,
causing distress in different pitches.
You could hear birds whistling, humming and tweeting,
singing to different melodies,
irritating with different symphonies,
causing a cacophony that builds bridges.
‘Cause no matter the age, gender or name,
everyone here hated this soundcheck the same.
On this hot, sunny day.

It was a loud, sunny day,
There were drums crackling, rumbling and rattling,
louder than ever thought possible,
and louder than humanly bearable.
There were violins, basses and cellos chirping, buzzing and squeaking,
not one of them hitting the notes
crashing all of our hopes.
And there were flutes whistling, humming and tweeting,
and somehow playing different pieces.
As the discomfort increases,
all one can do is leave,
quiet and fast, just like a thief
on this loud, sunny day.

by Eleni

Painful it was
I needed a pause
My eyes filled with tears
While most had other fears

My hands squeezing a ball
To make the pain go small
However, not helping at all
I’d rather fall from a wall

Three people were around me
All three were clad in white
One speaking to me calmly:
“Two minutes and you’ll be alright”

Two minutes? No, eternity
A pinprick here and a stitch there
Still being tied to this stupid chair
“We’ve finished now, finally”

Now, all in all it can be said
What I would call my biggest threat
Worse than an impact with a cactus
It’s a treatment at the dental practice

by Manuel

I remember that I will also have to get down on the floor again.
Count the steps while looking down.
There are eight, nine, maybe ten,
Which didn’t seem so high from the ground.

Now I’m at the top,
And don’t know what to do.
The others say I should let myself drop,
So I do, woo-hoo.

I fall onto the mat,
Like a heavy ball,
And realise that
It isn’t scary at all.

by Emma

Rhymes on time
At about 10 to 8
I stepped out of the door
I was in a hurry, I was late
I didn’t find a rhyme, no time anymore

I ran to my car
because I was too late for the bus
but to my school it isn’t far
Why am I in such a rush?

Actually I have enough time
I’d be there in ten minutes at most
enough time to find a rhyme
on time, or most, like toast.

So what should I say,
I came on the dot.
You ask where did I stay?
There was a twist in the plot:

There was a car on the road.
It drove very slow,
because it had a big load
and I thought: oh no!

But everything worked out
I came here on time
and now I’m thinking about
all the things that rhyme…

…rhyme on time

by Jana

Witness Statement
He wasn’t moving for a moment,
It felt like time was frozen,
When the car stopped in front of the roundabout,
And the motorcyclist’s head hit the ground

It felt unreal, he wasn’t moving,
The car just stood, the situation wasn’t improving
We all got out and he got up
He wasn’t in pain, he stood right up

We exchanged numbers and moved on
He started his bike, then he was gone

by Moritz

On a hot sunny day,
in the middle of May.
There were annoying flies,
which were telling me lies.
They were bothering me,
nothing but grass as far as I could see.
As my thoughts slipped away,
to my bed made of hay.

On a hot sunny day,
in the middle of May.
I heard the bells ringing,
and the birds singing.
I look up at the sky,
and see them fly.
To where my family lay,
in the delicious grass far away.

I want to shout,
but it doesn’t work out.
And everything I can do,
is a loud moo.
I’m remembering now,
that I am a cow.

by Live

A casual morning
I sit up straight in bed,
my dream, still in my head.
Get up and wash my face.
Tired? Certainly the case.

This nightmare I just had,
really makes me mad!
However, should be glad
that it doesn’t make me sad.

In it my cat went crazy,
though it’s always lazy.
It threw up on my rug,
and I just had to shrug.

Thank God it’s just a dream,
don’t need any of this cream.
I have to get to school,
even if it’s not that cool.

Go downstairs, pull a chair,
grab a mug, pour some tea,
then sense, I have to pee.
Too late, so don’t you dare.

Suddenly, there’s a noise,
it’s not the neighbour’s boys.
Instead I see my cat,
eating a small black rat.

And as I approach it,
my cat vomits on my rug,
like it was on some drug.
Don’t like it, not a bit.

Now I am late for school,
what’s actually cool.
But I have much to clean,
which I find rather mean.

by Michael

Poem: A walk home
I arrived at my home at half past one.
Sounds boring, I know, but this story isn’t yet done.
School’s last lesson had ended at twelve-fifty,
which – on a Tuesday – was quite nifty,
so I walked to the bus station through the woods
and felt the gravel crunch beneath my boots.
Because the woods had a way made of gravel
and when you walk on it you’ll feel something unravel –
which are all the negative emotions in your head.
After the walk, you’ll feel a little less dead,
though you may feel the urge to lie down on a bed.
Because the trees you admired
made you quite tired
even though they were all you desired.

After the woods comes the bus station.
There are, after all, quite many in our nation,
because public transport’s important, as we all know,
to fight climate change, and everything it has in tow.

Anyways, the bus came ten minutes later,
and when I walked onto it, I felt like part of something greater,
as if I had done something against climate change.
Or maybe it wasn’t so strange,
And I only wanted to decrease the range,
between me and my bed,
so I wouldn’t have to dread,
to lean my head,
onto something comfortable,
which, to sleep on, would be questionable.

by Benedikt