DP English Literature students in Grade 11 have been studying the poetry of Carol Ann Duffy. Students mimicked her style by writing a pastiche.
Pounding on the door.
No I don’t want to open,
Are the wings done?
Here put yours on first,
I’m almost finished with mine.
Hot wax burns my arms,
I pretend not to notice.
The old man waddles to the window, beckons me,
To freedom. Freedom. At last.
I look down to the sea and the rocks and,
The Drop. I take steps back. Door swings open.
The guards run in, glittering armour and swords at the ready, botched our plans.
Old man looked out the window.
And jumped. So I did too.
I flew, the old man had done it again.
Hasta la vista suckers I’m free.
All that planning, all that sneaking around and lying.
No more swords, no more threats, so long Midas and Pasiphae,
Your warships can’t catch up now.
They weren’t built to pluck birds from the sky.
Be warned, don’t fly too close to the sun,
Don’t fly too close to the sea.
You’ll fall otherwise.
So what, I can do what I want.
I’m immortal, I’m flying, I’m a god.
So I fly higher, higher. Higher.
The old man screaming and bellowing my name.
But do I care, no.
My arms start to burn, my feathers start to slip from their cover
And I’m still laughing when to fall to the sea,
Sorry old man,
But I had to be free.
by Ella, Grade 11