Congratulations to Zaynab and Iqra!
The Museum of London, in partnership with BBC100 and TfL, launched a poetry competition for young Londoners to share their best short poem on the theme of a London bus journey.
We are delighted and incredibly proud to announce that our Year 11 student Zaynab Alam won this competition, and her poem ‘A slideshow of London’ will be displayed at London bus stops from Mile End to Paddington from National Poetry Day on 6 October until the end of November along a bus route chosen by Zaynab.
Iqra Alam, another Year 11 student came runner-up in the competition with her poem ‘Riding Through Time’. Both Zaynab and Iqra took part in the First Story writing programme facilitated by school last year and we are delighted that our First Story alumni are continuing to develop and demonstrate their talents. Well done Zaynab and Iqra on your incredible achievements.
‘A Slideshow of London’ by Zaynab
I tap then beep. She taps then beeps. He does a tap then beeps.
Like a rhythm we’ve all memorised
Ultramarine Blue, Blinding Red and Friendly Yellow smirk as I
Run, leap to the backseat
Twisting the Friendly Yellow poles
Before the bus driver competes in the Grand Prix
The scratched, smeared window – my lenses – to see a slideshow
of London
As I sit higher than the peasant cars, I ask you to
Show me the plethora of fruits showcased in the market stalls
Show me the elderly woman trudging with her trolley case,
back from her trek in Iceland
Let me sympathise over the people that sprint towards – the doors that
swish shut
Suddenly you wheeze and turn – reminding us of the ceiling handles
swinging like a pendulum
Eternally neglected
Then the deafening teenagers clamber on the top deck of the bus.
Superior.
Then the metallic smell writhes into my nose, snaking through the
crevice in the window
Then he hops on to chat jubilantly with his mother, pram shifting
in its tiny area
A satisfying click
Blinding Red
The culprit who ended the presentation
’Riding Through Time’ by Iqra
Outside the familiar corner shop, my mum and I would wait at the bus
station
Hand in hand
In thick coats and gloves
Waiting for next grumbling sound of the red block bus approaching us,
to save us from the sharp cold
There would be a long queue of rhythmic beeping
As tall grown-ups tapped their Oyster Cards
We’d almost always pick a seat at the back, especially if there were two
Even if my organs vibrated in the heavy shaking
Like plane turbulence, like the waves even
The vibration would rise but then crash down when the bus moved again
My mum pulled out a small white crumpled paper bag from her backpack
Which sounded every time a mini chocolate cup would move
The chocolate sat comfortably inside a vibrantly coloured foiled cup
I separated the foil and placed a chocolate in my mouth, maybe even
two or three
And they melted as I held the foil in my hand
And tilted it in all angles in front of me as I tried to figure out how I
could use it
In some artistic way
I would look outside only to realise that we were at the stop
outside my aunt’s house
I would get the much loved privilege to press the red square
button as the bus halted.
