Young Writers’ City at Excelsior Collaborate with Stagecoach
Some of the students in our Young Writers’ City at Excelsior project have had their poems – inspired by Newcastle – published on 200 Stagecoach North East buses for all the whole city to enjoy.
Our young writers produced a series of thoughtful, evocative and striking poems inspired by being a young person in their home city. The collaboration with Stagecoach led to their hard work being showcased on posters across its entire fleet of buses in Newcastle.
The project has been a huge success, with plenty of proud family and friends taking to the bus routes to catch a glimpse our young writers’ debut publication.
Young Writers’ City is a branch of New Writing North’s young people programmes, reaching across the North to help develop the talent of young writers. Read more about this project here.
Check out the featured poetry below.
The Night Out in The City
by Paige, Paige, Angel and Ellie
The bridge is full of magic, once you step on it
it sparkles like a Disney Movie. Step with two
feet and it will turn to glass; you’ll see seagulls
dancing on the water like synchronised swimmers.
On top of Lobley Hill
stands a girl trapped
between her brain and heart.
Neither letting go nor holding on,
She stares at the city across the water,
to the places she has called home.
from the corners of her mind,
like blossom falling from branches;
a perfect tornado of pink and white.
A bus shelter is a concert hall in a rain storm.
The girl stares at her phone
then down the hill as if waiting for someone;
to the house where nobody lives,
the one that has always seemed alive.
My Mother is Fire
My Mother is fire, bright, warm and loving. She is quick
tongued and florescent. She waltzes wildly as she
spreads high and low. She is the free spirit that cannot
be tamed. She is the spark that ignites me. She smells of
spices, of freshly made Joloff. The peppery essence that
haunts my nose. Her dry red dust stains the soles of my
feet. She feeds my wandering spirit with the secrets of
our Great Nigeria.
A Thousand Dreams
a thousand dreams fall onto a thousand tiles,
pour down onto houses, parks, shops,
Darkness covers every inch of the night.
Like a machine gun,
Tick ruins everything, it is everywhere.
It struggles through the small crack in the ceiling,
into a bucket that catches each transparent drop.
Tick Tick Tick, now it gets quicker.
It fills the streets and looks for someone else to bother.
It hits the green hairs of the earth, turns brown black.
It runs into drains, it is stranded in the streets.
It grows every minute, streetlights reveal it;
Bright beams shining from long poles,
guiding feet as they plod toward home.
Dance with the city, because it is empty
Like school corridors at night.
The streets are as loud as early birds,
The bridges are metal rainbows,
The trains are busy with new ideas.
Listen to the dog bark as the light slowly fades
Pigeons peck crumbs from the floor.
Newcastle makes a reality of the dreams in my mind.
Shadows play happily on the river,
protected from the day’s hot rays. Grey’s Monument is burning
with life as workers, stuck in time, stand by and watch.
A bright blue firework
sprays in the summer night sky.
The kids are cheering
I am connected to my ancestors
Though I couldn’t tell you their names.
They are always with me,
Shadows in front
And trailing behind.
Sometimes I feel them
Protecting me, talking to me
Outside room and from within.
I share their blood
And walk in their footsteps.