'Rubbish’ poetry at Weetwood Primary School

Beautiful and full of hope

Blog report by James Nash                                   Tuesday 24 March  2026

Year 5 have been working with me over the last few weeks, writing poetry about recycling and how we can choose to avoid landfill and make a contribution to the environment. It’s probably my eleventh or twelfth year working as a poet in the school and this is the topic that resonates most with me of all that we have covered.

It all started with a visit to the Recycling and Energy Recovery Facility in Cross Green where thirty very excited pupils were shown around the vast building. They ended up on the seventh floor looking from a viewing window into a pit of rubbish before it is sorted and where anything that cannot be recycled is burnt at an extraordinary high temperature. We also had a session wearing virtual headsets looking at all the places in the facility we could not safely go. On the way home we made sure the coach gave us a view of the outside of the building with its marvelous living-wall, of plants and wild-life.

 

Recycling and Energy Recovery Facility in Cross Green, Leeds

Back in school I introduced myself to Year 5 as a poet and writer and explained how we were going to go about writing a poem in the three stages that I, as a professional writer, often follow. That afternoon the children wrote down answers to questions I had prepared for them, responding as if they were a piece of rubbish on their way from wheelie bin to bin lorry to the Facility. These, I explained, were first ideas and I was not looking for right answers but what came to mind. We heard many of these first thoughts as they were shared with the whole class.

Stage two happened the next morning when I came into the classroom with my own responses to those same questions, plus a first draft of a poem using some of what I thought were the best ideas I had had.  We talked about how a poem might sound [not having to rhyme] and how it may look in terms of structure, in lines and verses. Then Year 5 had a go at editing and redrafting their first ideas.

 

‘look in the place where the waste goes

A rancid rainbow of rubbish’

and

‘I enter the belly of the beast

Where it stores its midnight feast’

and

‘Light for a second

And an avalanche of rubbish rushes toward me’.

 

I was certain then that we were going to have some brilliant ‘rubbish’ poems to share with parents, where performing your writing is often the third stage of the process. Talking to the class before parents arrived, we discussed what they had learned from the sessions so far; they felt that they had grown in confidence in their writing and also in their understanding of how a poem works.

The proof came in their delivery to the dozen or so parents who were able to attend the last session. The room was attentive and respectful as many of the young people shared their work. It ranged from one brilliant example of terza rima to equally brilliant free verse.

As parents said afterwards,

‘Such bravery for them to read out their work to the whole class and parents.  Great that such a safe environment has been created for then to do this’.

and

‘Great use of imagination. Love how that creativity has combined with the project on recycling'

and

‘Fantastic exercise for confidence building’.

 

Year 5 were a credit to themselves, their parents and to their school. As class teacher Joanne Parker said, 'It just gets better and better!  Such a creative experience will live with them.' 

 

Sally Bavage writes:

As always, Headingley LitFest are very grateful for the undimmed support of the local councillors on the Outer Community Committee who funded this project.  They have supported this work for over a decade, showing great commitment to the development of confidence and resilience in young people from this area.

I was very grateful for the report written by James Nash himself as I was unfortunately unable to attend the final assembly.  They are always such a delightful occasion, and it is so heart-warming to see joy and pleasure written on the faces of the young performers when they achieve pride in a public recognition of their skills as wordsmiths as well as conquering fears of public speaking.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Celebrating International Women's Day 2026

 

Headingley LitFest sponsors this annual event early in March each year to mark International Women's Day on March 8^th. It was, as always, a triumph of prose, poetry and song that was hard-hitting, thought-provoking and poignant, crafted by the clever local writers from Heartlines.  Tales were spun, poems shared, heartstrings pulled and forgotten history revisited.  We were by turns cheered, appalled, engrossed and entertained by the witty and perceptive writing of the Headingley Creative Writing Group and local songstresses.

 

 

Liz McPherson (pictured) has nurtured these writers over the years and they provided us with varied pieces of writing of such high calibre. Liz opened the event with a 'paperchain' collaborative poem that pulled no punches. Sexual violence, coercive control, FGM, acid for 'honour', rape as a weapon – her words went beyond the unspeakable to words that must be used to educate. 

Her poem appears at the end of this piece.

 

 

Music was a poem by Kaz Byrne that explored the rhythms of life we listen to: soothing lullabies in babyhood; cheerful songs in girlhood; calming melodies in middle age; the lament of the dying. Sing out sisters!

 

Being Cross by Rosie Cantrell was read out by Kaz. Hungry babies, tetchy children, adolescent mood swings, PMT leads to a calm old age.  Really?  Or does partial deafness mute our irritation - until we get to the Pearly Gates when St Peter asks you to show your/you're cross. No problem!

 

 

Harissa are a collective of brilliant a capella singers led by Jane Edwardson.  The ten talents I thought, as they sang three songs: Blue Moon, A Master of Education (poem by Brian Patten, set to music by Frances Bernstein) and Rise Up. A medley of women's voices in harmony with words sometimes a little less harmonious! As the name Harissa implies. 

Rise up indeed was the invitation to the audience.

 

Shame was explored by Myrna Moore.  In the context of well-known greats such as Joan of Arc, Marie Curie and Malala Yusufai, a new addition to the pantheon is Giselle Pelicot.  She is a heroine of our era, who declared that 'Shame must change sides.'  Should women hide from the glare of prurient publicity?  No.  She is not vengeful, freeing herself from consuming hate and walking with dignity to face the world's flashbulbs. Other sisters will now follow.

 

Ivy Benson's extraordinary life was explored by Doug Sandle. Local girl from Beeston, she played piano at five years of age, learned the clarinet and saxophone and by 1943 was leading the BBC's resident all-girl dance band before she was forty years old. 250 girls played with her during her dance band years. Doug had been so proud to give a speech as she was presented with an Honorary Doctor of Music by the-then Leeds Polytechnic. Spice Girl Mel C is a strong supporter of a woman who had generated girl power half a century before her.

 

Salem in 1692 was explored by Jackie Parsons.  Girls who used egg-white divination to see into their futures were condemned as witches after they complained of itching and scratching and gave out odd little cries.  Was ergotism caused by contaminated cereal grain ever suggested? – the symptoms are strikingly similar and it was not unknown.  But male Puritan justice prevailed in the witch trials of which we perhaps do not know the whole story.

 

Bill Fitzsimons read us his poem, As Long As Men Do Likewise, based on a picture of a girl confronting a line of soldiers and offering flowers. It's the sort of image we have seen many times and that has all too many echoes this very day. But “men will follow their leaders' lies.”

 

Maria Sandle performed two songs accompanying herself on guitar and harmonica. The first was by the iconic Joni Mitchell, a powerful exploration of the horrors of the Magdalene Laundries. Prostitutes, destitutes and temptresses (as described by the priests) – all woe-begotten-daughters impregnated by fathers, priests or ignorance. 'Fallen women' whose babies were neglected and ended in the septic tank. Girls buried without ceremony or note. Truly still shocking thirty years later.  A more cheerful song of Give to Gain – it's in giving that we gain - was written by Maria herself, with audience participation to lift our spirits.

 

Malcolm Henshall told us a tale of North Berwick, opposite the Bass Rock, famous for many things. It was once home to the largest colony of gannets in the world before avian flu.  He too touched on witches in a little known history of the town's treatment of over 70 local women. They were healers, teachers, environmental supporters, stepping outside their gender roles, just different. Persecuted by the men who feared their knowledge, skills and self-confidence and who sought to control them. Same as it ever was?

 

A Traveller in Residence: Barbara Lawton recounted the life of Maeve Brennan, basing her exploration on a picture of a fragmented scene with a women half-buried in the shards.  Maeve's father Robert was imprisoned for his support of the Easter Rising in Dublin in 1917 but later in 1934 was sent to Washington, with his family, as a representative of the Irish Free State when Maeve was 17.  Maeve became famous as a short-story writer, feted for her literate tale-telling before she hit hard times (yes, there was a husband involved) and her life spiralled out of her control into mental illness and alcoholism.  She never settled, remained a traveller from boarding house to hotel room to the streets where she died.  Her work was rediscovered recently and republished; she takes her place in the cannon of Irish literature.

 

Howard Benn wrote in praise of Augusta Ada, the Countess Lovelace, a daughter of Byron who is known for her work to support the Babbage prototype computer and was indeed a countess in her enthusiasm for calculation. Sadly, she was lost to opium and time.  “Too much Byron in you?”

 

Linda Marshall's short poems Annie and True Glam were read by Liz McPherson and gave a picture of two very different women.

 

Liz McPherson provided us with the final piece of writing, Mary makes a new start. She updates her look, enjoys some me-time with well-being treats, sells the place in Nazareth, develops her credentials as an influencer with 50 million followers. #MotherofGod.

 

Harissa sang a rousing finale, I Tell Me Ma, to send us on our way to refreshments and a chance to mull over the many ideas and images generated by the words we have experienced. Once again, such a delightful morning of entertainment provided by the research, craft and skills of the writers of Headingley and the talents of the wonderful local musicians.

 

 

This poem is not about women

This poem does not tell of rocks and rusty screws

forced into wombs. This poem can’t repeat

the messages of hate, driven inside them,

cannot count the lives ruined.

 

This poem will not ask why girls are still cut

to satisfy tradition, why education is withheld,

why permission to go outside, to drive a car,

to travel, has to be given.

 

This poem never talks of acid flung in faces,

of bodies burned, disfigured for ‘honourable reason’.

This poem will not measure families ripped apart,

it will not hear the children crying, the bullets flying,

the blood-soaked fields, streets, houses, schools.

 

This poem won’t speak of women kept like beasts,

compelled to spend their lives in servitude.

This poem won’t examine how the world can choose

to make a child bear a child.

 

This poem will not document how rape is used as gun,

on women, girls, tiny children. This poem will not bear

witness to all this suffering, pain and slaughter.

This poem is not about women.

 

Liz McPherson. 2025.

 

 

This poem is published in Safety in Numbers, a Poetic Conversation, edited by Gill Connors (Yaffle Press) and launching this week at various venues in the region. Copies are available from Yaffle Press or at the events below.

York. Spark, Piccadilly, York. Thursday 5^th March. 7 pm

Keighley Library. Saturday 7th March. 5- 6.30 pm.

Zoom. Sunday 8^th March. 6.30.

Ilkley Library. Saturday 19th March 6-7.30 pm

(Ticket and link enquiries to safepaperchain@gmail.com)

 

 

Transformations at Weetwood Primary School

When Year 5 finally had the opportunity to share their original poetry about waste and recycling with parents it was to a full classroom.  Full of both excited youngsters and enthusiastic parents.

 

The pupils had been working with local writer and published poet James Nash.  This followed a visit to the Recycling and Energy Recovery Facility (known as RERF) at Cross Green.  They had explored what happens to the contents of their bins and how it is transformed into electricity for 20,000 homes. The thinking that then went into their creative writing was transformative too.

 

The RERF building includes a mix of innovative and sustainable materials and techniques, including a 42m high timber arch forming the main process hall – the largest timber structure of its type in Europe. The facility was awarded the 2015 Project of the Year at the National Structural Timber Awards.

 

James led them through some of the processes he uses to write a poem: from first ideas (where they had been challenged to imagine they were a piece of rubbish in a bin); describing their journey to the recycling centre; thinking about what their senses would tell them about the experience; how they might feel at different stages on the way. These are pretty sophisticated concepts when you're only nine or ten years old! They handled it brilliantly and no-one produced any throwaway lines.

 

In the next session with James, Year 5 worked hard on how to edit and redraft those first ideas into a poem.  They thought about what they really wanted to say and how to express it most effectively.  They were looking for powerful vocabulary, great metaphors and expressive writing while considering how to organise their thinking into lines and verses, using what they had learnt about the form and structure of a poem.

 

While they worked on polishing and improving their poems there was lots of opportunity for them to practise reading their drafts aloud in preparation for the classroom finale sharing their work with parents, other school staff and visitors.

 

The journey, a furious mix of jerking and jostling,

The wall of glass intimidating

 

wrote one gifted poet. While another, conscious of the sound of their words and managing rhyme beautifully, said

 

Jumbled and tumbled,

Crumpled and rumpled

Locked in a lair

Filled with despair

 

Another young writer wrote,

 

The last journey is a sonic fast from waste to aggregate

The colossal claw is grabbing

 

Year 5 really enjoyed the experience of working with a ‘real, live’ poet.  ‘He was really friendly,’ said one pupil, 'and he knew how to help us’.

 

The parents in the audience were very appreciative of the work of the class.  One youngster had a sibling who had take part in a previous year’s workshop with James, and whose mum was moved to say, ’The kids’ creativity was off the scale! It’s such a great event’.

 

 ‘They had such self-confidence in reading out their poems,’ an enthusiastic audience member said, while another valued the cross-curriculum impact of the poetry writing, ‘It was so good that it was a part of another project - a big one that they are doing - and the idea of writing from point of view of a piece of rubbish was brilliant!’

 

Mrs Joanne Parker, class teacher, concurred, ‘Every year we say how fantastic this poetry unit is .  This felt like the best ever’.

 

Perhaps it’s appropriate to give a Year 5 pupil the last words,

 

I cannot go home now

I’ll be burnt in a furnace

Used to tarmac roads

Hurled onto a fiery rock

Gone and never coming back

 

Maybe the rubbish is gone and never coming back but the school staff were as one in hoping that James could indeed come back to work his transformation on the next year group.

 

Headingley LitFest is very grateful once again for support for this project from the Area Management Committee of Leeds City Council and the local councillors who allocate the grant.

 

 

 

Emotional performance at Brudenell Primary with Malika Booker

 Richard Wilcocks writes:

The Year 5 class at Brudenell Primary School was full of questions soon after we arrived towards the end of a Maths session led by class teacher Tom Nutman. It any of the children thought poet Malika Booker might be merely a welcome novelty, they were soon to be proved wrong when she revealed  a plan for intense creative activity which would finish with a poetry performance for their parents. First, she read her poem about a cat which had to go when she was born. Then -

 

Q.  When did you start writing poetry?

A. In my teenage years, but I read a lot of it from the age of four.

 

Q.  Is your poetry all true or made up?

A.  I think maybe there’s a little bit of a lie, with the use of exaggeration. It’s true to life though, and there’s a lot of imagination involved.

 

Q.  Which poets do you like?

A.  I like William Blake, and I’m inspired by Caribbean poets.

 

Q.  Did you do poetry at school?

A.  Yes. I was inspired by some teachers, especially one particular English and Drama teacher.

 

Q.  Did you ever get bored of poetry?

A. No. I loved performing poems at school.

 

Q.  Have you always been working as a poet?

A. I’ve spent twenty-five years with professional poetry. I once had it in mind to be a teacher or a singer. I can’t sing though. If I could sing I wouldn’t have been a poet.

 

Q.  What starts you writing a poem?

A.  I read other people’s poems to inspire me before I write.

 

Soon the class was responding to her questions with its existing knowledge of similes, metaphors and the five senses. Malika asked for striking examples (of similes in particular), to go with a wide range of emotions. Working in pairs and small groups, and following her advice that clichés must be avoided, the children came up with plenty of imaginative comparisons:

 

Jealousy is like cockroaches crawling on your back.

 

Anger sounds like a cat hissing.

 

Anger looks like broken crockery.

 

Love is like tasting smooth chocolate on a sunny day.

 

Soon, the pupils’ whiteboards were full of ideas and the fort lesson with Malika came to an end. The work continued with Tom Nutman until her return the following week. In the second lesson, she used one of her favourite teaching aids – the poem ‘My Father’s Hands’ by poet Lisa Mahair Majaj (Palestinian – American poet who was brought up in Jordan) – which was followed by an instruction for every child to draw an outline around one hand. “Make it big,” said Malika. “Don’t just use your hand as a stencil”.

 

“Now choose someone you love. It could be a family member like your mother or father or a grandparent. Yes, brothers and sisters are fine.” This was followed by discussion on the typical actions of the chosen loved one (mostly mothers, a few grandads) and similes which might be useful. Emotions were so important – how they were connected to body language, or rather hand language. Some of the children’s ideas were really memorable:

 

She puts her hands together and looks like an Olympic swimmer diving in.

 

Her hands are like window wipers on her eyes.

 

Her fingers tap like on a little drum.

 

“And what if you never saw that loved one ever again?”

 

It would be like entering a dark tunnel.

 

The third lesson a few days later consisted of the performance by every single child in the main hall, to which parents had been invited. After preliminary work on projecting the voice from Malika and Tom, and a noisy warm-up using a tongue-twister led by Malika, the show commenced. Hearts and souls went into it.

 

Some reactions:

 

Having members of our community come in and share their passion for literature is always a welcome addition to our curriculum. Some of these chlldren have come to this country with no English. This is such a great achievement, and the poems are absolutely beautiful. (Headteacher Jill Harland)

 

I couldn't be more proud. (Tom Nutman)

 

I am nearly ten and I felt really confident when I was sat down but then I didn’t expect so many people but it was all right when I did my poem. (Ayra)

 

It wasn’t that scary. (Rayan)

 

I enjoyed speaking out loud. (Ali)

 

It was done really well so I enjoyed it. So much confidence! (Rhada Bhakar, parent)

 

It was so good for building confidence. Thank you in the LitFest very much. I am starting a debating club for primary school children in the community. I now think poetry could help. (Sinab, parent)

 

Performing in front of people is so good for their confidence. (Julius, parent)

 

I cried a little at the words. (Anon. parent)

 

Some of the lines broke my heart ( Cllr.Tim Goodall)