Stealing – Carol Ann Duffy

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Stealing – Carol Ann Duffy Starter If you had to steal something what would be the most unusual or useless thing you could steal?

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Stealing – Carol Ann Duffy. Starter If you had to steal something what would be the most unusual or useless thing you could steal?. Stealing – Carol Ann Duffy. Starter If you had to steal something what would be the most unusual or useless thing you could steal? A Snowman? Why steal a - PowerPoint PPT Presentation

Transcript of Stealing – Carol Ann Duffy

Page 1: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy

Stealing – Carol Ann DuffyStarter

If you had to steal something what would be the most unusual or useless thing you could steal?

Page 2: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy

Stealing – Carol Ann DuffyStarter

If you had to steal something what would be the most unusual or useless thing you could steal?A Snowman?

Why steal a Snowman?This is the questionThe poem tries to answer.

Page 3: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy

As we study this poem you will learn:• The story and hidden meaning of the poem • About the terms,

Form & Structure, Alliteration, Imagery & Sensory Imagery.• You will also complete some mini tasks and a quiz on the

poem. The poem will also be set as a question in the final exam.

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Learning Objectives

Stealing – Carol Ann Duffy

Page 4: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy

The most unusual thing I ever stole? A snowman. Midnight. He looked magnificent; a tall, white mute beneath the winter moon. I wanted him, a mate with a mind as cold as the slice of ice within my own brain. I started with the head. Better off dead than giving in, not takingwhat you want. He weighed a ton; his torso, frozen stiff, hugged to my chest, a fierce chill piercing my gut. Part of the thrill was knowing that children would cry in the morning. Life's tough.

Sometimes I steal things I don't need. I joy-ride cars to nowhere, break into houses just to have a look.I'm a mucky ghost, leave a mess, maybe pinch a camera. I watch my gloved hand twisting the doorknob. A stranger's bedroom. Mirrors. I sigh like this - Aah.

It took some time. Reassembled in the yard,he didn't look the same. I took a runand booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standingalone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world. Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself.One time, I stole a guitar and thought I mightlearn to play. I nicked a bust of Shakespeare once, flogged it, but the snowman was the strangest. You don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?

Stealing – Carol Ann Duffy

Page 5: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy

The most unusual thing I ever stole? A snowman. Midnight. He looked magnificent; a tall, white mute beneath the winter moon. I wanted him, a mate with a mind as cold as the slice of ice within my own brain. I started with the head. Better off dead than giving in, not takingwhat you want. He weighed a ton; his torso, frozen stiff, hugged to my chest, a fierce chill piercing my gut. Part of the thrill was knowing that children would cry in the morning. Life's tough.

Sometimes I steal things I don't need. I joy-ride cars to nowhere, break into houses just to have a look.I'm a mucky ghost, leave a mess, maybe pinch a camera. I watch my gloved hand twisting the doorknob. A stranger's bedroom. Mirrors. I sigh like this - Aah.

It took some time. Reassembled in the yard,he didn't look the same. I took a runand booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standingalone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world. Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself.One time, I stole a guitar and thought I mightlearn to play. I nicked a bust of Shakespeare once, flogged it, but the snowman was the strangest. You don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?

Stealing – The Story of the Poem

Mini Task 1Write down what you think is the story of the poem.

Page 6: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy

The most unusual thing I ever stole? A snowman. Midnight. He looked magnificent; a tall, white mute beneath the winter moon. I wanted him, a mate with a mind as cold as the slice of ice within my own brain. I started with the head. Better off dead than giving in, not takingwhat you want. He weighed a ton; his torso, frozen stiff, hugged to my chest, a fierce chill piercing my gut. Part of the thrill was knowing that children would cry in the morning. Life's tough.

Sometimes I steal things I don't need. I joy-ride cars to nowhere, break into houses just to have a look.I'm a mucky ghost, leave a mess, maybe pinch a camera. I watch my gloved hand twisting the doorknob. A stranger's bedroom. Mirrors. I sigh like this - Aah.

It took some time. Reassembled in the yard,he didn't look the same. I took a runand booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standingalone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world. Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself.One time, I stole a guitar and thought I mightlearn to play. I nicked a bust of Shakespeare once, flogged it, but the snowman was the strangest. You don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?

Mini Task 1Write down what you think is the story of the poem.The speaker of the poem appears to be talking to someone (a policeman? a counsellor? a teacher?) about the various crimes he has committed. As the speaker talks about the strangest thing he ever stole - a snowman - we begin to sense that this is an lonely, sociopathic person with little empathy and few morals. We are also made aware of the fact that the speaker feels detached from society and knows that no-body really understands, not only what s/he says, but his situation, motives or life.

Stealing – The Story of the Poem

Page 7: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy

The most unusual thing I ever stole? A snowman. Midnight. He looked magnificent; a tall, white mute beneath the winter moon. I wanted him, a mate with a mind as cold as the slice of ice within my own brain. I started with the head. Better off dead than giving in, not takingwhat you want. He weighed a ton; his torso, frozen stiff, hugged to my chest, a fierce chill piercing my gut. Part of the thrill was knowing that children would cry in the morning. Life's tough.

Sometimes I steal things I don't need. I joy-ride cars to nowhere, break into houses just to have a look.I'm a mucky ghost, leave a mess, maybe pinch a camera. I watch my gloved hand twisting the doorknob. A stranger's bedroom. Mirrors. I sigh like this - Aah.

It took some time. Reassembled in the yard,he didn't look the same. I took a runand booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standingalone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world. Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself.One time, I stole a guitar and thought I mightlearn to play. I nicked a bust of Shakespeare once, flogged it, but the snowman was the strangest. You don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?

Mini Task 2What is unusual about the character who is telling this story?

Stealing – The Story of the Poem

Page 8: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy

The most unusual thing I ever stole? A snowman. Midnight. He looked magnificent; a tall, white mute beneath the winter moon. I wanted him, a mate with a mind as cold as the slice of ice within my own brain. I started with the head. Better off dead than giving in, not takingwhat you want. He weighed a ton; his torso, frozen stiff, hugged to my chest, a fierce chill piercing my gut. Part of the thrill was knowing that children would cry in the morning. Life's tough.

Sometimes I steal things I don't need. I joy-ride cars to nowhere, break into houses just to have a look.I'm a mucky ghost, leave a mess, maybe pinch a camera. I watch my gloved hand twisting the doorknob. A stranger's bedroom. Mirrors. I sigh like this - Aah.

It took some time. Reassembled in the yard,he didn't look the same. I took a runand booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standingalone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world. Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself.One time, I stole a guitar and thought I mightlearn to play. I nicked a bust of Shakespeare once, flogged it, but the snowman was the strangest. You don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?

Mini Task 2What is unusual about the character who is telling this story?First I think the character is a boy aged between 14-18. Girls do not tend to manifest this sort of deviant behaviour, at least not on their own. Even boys driven to vandalism tend to act in gangs so the fact this boy is out and about at midnight in the middle of winter is unusual and quite disturbing.

Stealing – The Story of the Poem

Page 9: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy

The most unusual thing I ever stole? A snowman. Midnight. He looked magnificent; a tall, white mute beneath the winter moon. I wanted him, a mate with a mind as cold as the slice of ice within my own brain. I started with the head. Better off dead than giving in, not takingwhat you want. He weighed a ton; his torso, frozen stiff, hugged to my chest, a fierce chill piercing my gut. Part of the thrill was knowing that children would cry in the morning. Life's tough.

Sometimes I steal things I don't need. I joy-ride cars to nowhere, break into houses just to have a look.I'm a mucky ghost, leave a mess, maybe pinch a camera. I watch my gloved hand twisting the doorknob. A stranger's bedroom. Mirrors. I sigh like this - Aah.

It took some time. Reassembled in the yard,he didn't look the same. I took a runand booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standingalone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world. Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself.One time, I stole a guitar and thought I mightlearn to play. I nicked a bust of Shakespeare once, flogged it, but the snowman was the strangest. You don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?

Mini Task 3. What does the poem tell you about this boy’s family life and background?

Stealing – The Story of the Poem

Page 10: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy

The most unusual thing I ever stole? A snowman. Midnight. He looked magnificent; a tall, white mute beneath the winter moon. I wanted him, a mate with a mind as cold as the slice of ice within my own brain. I started with the head. Better off dead than giving in, not takingwhat you want. He weighed a ton; his torso, frozen stiff, hugged to my chest, a fierce chill piercing my gut. Part of the thrill was knowing that children would cry in the morning. Life's tough.

Sometimes I steal things I don't need. I joy-ride cars to nowhere, break into houses just to have a look.I'm a mucky ghost, leave a mess, maybe pinch a camera. I watch my gloved hand twisting the doorknob. A stranger's bedroom. Mirrors. I sigh like this - Aah.

It took some time. Reassembled in the yard,he didn't look the same. I took a runand booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standingalone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world. Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself.One time, I stole a guitar and thought I mightlearn to play. I nicked a bust of Shakespeare once, flogged it, but the snowman was the strangest. You don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?

Mini Task 3What does the poem tell you about this boy’s family life and background?His family life must be lonely and unloved or else why is out so late on a winters night and able to spend at least an hour re-building the snowman and the destroying it without anyone noticing.

Stealing – The Story of the Poem

Page 11: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy

The most unusual thing I ever stole? A snowman. Midnight. He looked magnificent; a tall, white mute beneath the winter moon. I wanted him, a mate with a mind as cold as the slice of ice within my own brain. I started with the head. Better off dead than giving in, not takingwhat you want. He weighed a ton; his torso, frozen stiff, hugged to my chest, a fierce chill piercing my gut. Part of the thrill was knowing that children would cry in the morning. Life's tough.

Sometimes I steal things I don't need. I joy-ride cars to nowhere, break into houses just to have a look.I'm a mucky ghost, leave a mess, maybe pinch a camera. I watch my gloved hand twisting the doorknob. A stranger's bedroom. Mirrors. I sigh like this - Aah.

It took some time. Reassembled in the yard,he didn't look the same. I took a runand booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standingalone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world. Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself.One time, I stole a guitar and thought I mightlearn to play. I nicked a bust of Shakespeare once, flogged it, but the snowman was the strangest. You don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?

Mini Task 4What do most of the objects he says he has stolen have in common? Like the snowman they are all pretty useless and only the Bust of Shakespeare seems to have brought him some financial reward. Even the cars he steals take him nowhere and bring him no ‘joy’.

Stealing – The Story of the Poem

Page 12: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy

The most unusual thing I ever stole? A snowman. Midnight. He looked magnificent; a tall, white mute beneath the winter moon. I wanted him, a mate with a mind as cold as the slice of ice within my own brain. I started with the head. Better off dead than giving in, not takingwhat you want. He weighed a ton; his torso, frozen stiff, hugged to my chest, a fierce chill piercing my gut. Part of the thrill was knowing that children would cry in the morning. Life's tough.

Sometimes I steal things I don't need. I joy-ride cars to nowhere, break into houses just to have a look.I'm a mucky ghost, leave a mess, maybe pinch a camera. I watch my gloved hand twisting the doorknob. A stranger's bedroom. Mirrors. I sigh like this - Aah.

It took some time. Reassembled in the yard,he didn't look the same. I took a runand booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standingalone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world. Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself.One time, I stole a guitar and thought I mightlearn to play. I nicked a bust of Shakespeare once, flogged it, but the snowman was the strangest. You don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?

Mini Task 5So if not for money, why does he steal things?

Stealing – The Story of the Poem

Page 13: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy

The most unusual thing I ever stole? A snowman. Midnight. He looked magnificent; a tall, white mute beneath the winter moon. I wanted him, a mate with a mind as cold as the slice of ice within my own brain. I started with the head. Better off dead than giving in, not takingwhat you want. He weighed a ton; his torso, frozen stiff, hugged to my chest, a fierce chill piercing my gut. Part of the thrill was knowing that children would cry in the morning. Life's tough.

Sometimes I steal things I don't need. I joy-ride cars to nowhere, break into houses just to have a look.I'm a mucky ghost, leave a mess, maybe pinch a camera. I watch my gloved hand twisting the doorknob. A stranger's bedroom. Mirrors. I sigh like this - Aah.

It took some time. Reassembled in the yard,he didn't look the same. I took a runand booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standingalone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world. Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself.One time, I stole a guitar and thought I mightlearn to play. I nicked a bust of Shakespeare once, flogged it, but the snowman was the strangest. You don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?

Mini Task 5So if not for money, why does he steal things? He would seem to steal things to get a perverse sort of ‘thrill’ out of the pain, suffering and upset he causes his victims. The thought that the children who built the snowman would be upset when they see it is gone in the morning, seems to give him pleasure. Likewise he’s a ‘mucky ghost’ so he will wreck a home he has broken into without probably stealing anything.

Stealing – The Story of the Poem

Page 14: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy

The most unusual thing I ever stole? A snowman. Midnight. He looked magnificent; a tall, white mute beneath the winter moon. I wanted him, a mate with a mind as cold as the slice of ice within my own brain. I started with the head. Better off dead than giving in, not takingwhat you want. He weighed a ton; his torso, frozen stiff, hugged to my chest, a fierce chill piercing my gut. Part of the thrill was knowing that children would cry in the morning. Life's tough.

Sometimes I steal things I don't need. I joy-ride cars to nowhere, break into houses just to have a look.I'm a mucky ghost, leave a mess, maybe pinch a camera. I watch my gloved hand twisting the doorknob. A stranger's bedroom. Mirrors. I sigh like this - Aah.

It took some time. Reassembled in the yard,he didn't look the same. I took a runand booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standingalone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world. Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself.One time, I stole a guitar and thought I mightlearn to play. I nicked a bust of Shakespeare once, flogged it, but the snowman was the strangest. You don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?

Mini Task 6What motivates him then?

Stealing – The Story of the Poem

Page 15: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy

The most unusual thing I ever stole? A snowman. Midnight. He looked magnificent; a tall, white mute beneath the winter moon. I wanted him, a mate with a mind as cold as the slice of ice within my own brain. I started with the head. Better off dead than giving in, not takingwhat you want. He weighed a ton; his torso, frozen stiff, hugged to my chest, a fierce chill piercing my gut. Part of the thrill was knowing that children would cry in the morning. Life's tough.

Sometimes I steal things I don't need. I joy-ride cars to nowhere, break into houses just to have a look.I'm a mucky ghost, leave a mess, maybe pinch a camera. I watch my gloved hand twisting the doorknob. A stranger's bedroom. Mirrors. I sigh like this - Aah.

It took some time. Reassembled in the yard,he didn't look the same. I took a runand booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standingalone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world. Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself.One time, I stole a guitar and thought I mightlearn to play. I nicked a bust of Shakespeare once, flogged it, but the snowman was the strangest. You don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?

Mini Task 6What motivates him then? Revenge or punishment on those who have things, especially a happy family life that he does not have.

Stealing – The Story of the Poem

Page 16: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy

The most unusual thing I ever stole? A snowman. Midnight. He looked magnificent; a tall, white mute beneath the winter moon. I wanted him, a mate with a mind as cold as the slice of ice within my own brain. I started with the head. Better off dead than giving in, not takingwhat you want. He weighed a ton; his torso, frozen stiff, hugged to my chest, a fierce chill piercing my gut. Part of the thrill was knowing that children would cry in the morning. Life's tough.

Sometimes I steal things I don't need. I joy-ride cars to nowhere, break into houses just to have a look.I'm a mucky ghost, leave a mess, maybe pinch a camera. I watch my gloved hand twisting the doorknob. A stranger's bedroom. Mirrors. I sigh like this - Aah.

It took some time. Reassembled in the yard,he didn't look the same. I took a runand booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standingalone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world. Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself.One time, I stole a guitar and thought I mightlearn to play. I nicked a bust of Shakespeare once, flogged it, but the snowman was the strangest. You don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?

Mini Task 7How is the poem structured?a) Stanzasb) Line length c) Rhymed) Alliteratione) Rhythm

Stealing – Form & Structure

Page 17: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy

The most unusual thing I ever stole? A snowman. Midnight. He looked magnificent; a tall, white mute beneath the winter moon. I wanted him, a mate with a mind as cold as the slice of ice within my own brain. I started with the head. Better off dead than giving in, not takingwhat you want. He weighed a ton; his torso, frozen stiff, hugged to my chest, a fierce chill piercing my gut. Part of the thrill was knowing that children would cry in the morning. Life's tough.

Sometimes I steal things I don't need. I joy-ride cars to nowhere, break into houses just to have a look.I'm a mucky ghost, leave a mess, maybe pinch a camera. I watch my gloved hand twisting the doorknob. A stranger's bedroom. Mirrors. I sigh like this - Aah.

It took some time. Reassembled in the yard,he didn't look the same. I took a runand booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standingalone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world. Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself.One time, I stole a guitar and thought I mightlearn to play. I nicked a bust of Shakespeare once, flogged it, but the snowman was the strangest. You don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?

Mini Task 7How is the poem structured?a) Stanzas 5 stanzas of 5 linesb) Line length 10-14 syllables.

Most lines have 12 syllables

c) Rhyme None, but there are some chimes.

d) Alliteration Lots, so many it is

a Key Featuree) Rhythm Because of the even

line length and alliteration the poem has a strong rhythm.

Stealing – Form & Structure

Page 18: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy

The most unusual thing I ever stole? A snowman. Midnight. He looked magnificent; a tall, white mute beneath the winter moon. I wanted him, a mate with a mind as cold as the slice of ice within my own brain. I started with the head. Better off dead than giving in, not takingwhat you want. He weighed a ton; his torso, frozen stiff, hugged to my chest, a fierce chill piercing my gut. Part of the thrill was knowing that children would cry in the morning. Life's tough.

Sometimes I steal things I don't need. I joy-ride cars to nowhere, break into houses just to have a look.I'm a mucky ghost, leave a mess, maybe pinch a camera. I watch my gloved hand twisting the doorknob. A stranger's bedroom. Mirrors. I sigh like this - Aah.

It took some time. Reassembled in the yard,he didn't look the same. I took a runand booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standingalone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world. Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself.One time, I stole a guitar and thought I mightlearn to play. I nicked a bust of Shakespeare once, flogged it, but the snowman was the strangest. You don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?

Mini Task 8Form means the type of poem you are reading, so what type of poem is Stealing?

Stealing – Form & Structure

Page 19: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy

The most unusual thing I ever stole? A snowman. Midnight. He looked magnificent; a tall, white mute beneath the winter moon. I wanted him, a mate with a mind as cold as the slice of ice within my own brain. I started with the head. Better off dead than giving in, not takingwhat you want. He weighed a ton; his torso, frozen stiff, hugged to my chest, a fierce chill piercing my gut. Part of the thrill was knowing that children would cry in the morning. Life's tough.

Sometimes I steal things I don't need. I joy-ride cars to nowhere, break into houses just to have a look.I'm a mucky ghost, leave a mess, maybe pinch a camera. I watch my gloved hand twisting the doorknob. A stranger's bedroom. Mirrors. I sigh like this - Aah.

It took some time. Reassembled in the yard,he didn't look the same. I took a runand booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standingalone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world. Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself.One time, I stole a guitar and thought I mightlearn to play. I nicked a bust of Shakespeare once, flogged it, but the snowman was the strangest. You don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?

Mini Task 8What sort of poem is it?It is a single person talking so the form of the poem is a monologue.

Stealing – Form & Structure

Page 20: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy

The most unusual thing I ever stole? A snowman. Midnight. He looked magnificent; a tall, white mute beneath the winter moon. I wanted him, a mate with a mind as cold as the slice of ice within my own brain. I started with the head. Better off dead than giving in, not takingwhat you want. He weighed a ton; his torso, frozen stiff, hugged to my chest, a fierce chill piercing my gut. Part of the thrill was knowing that children would cry in the morning. Life's tough.

Sometimes I steal things I don't need. I joy-ride cars to nowhere, break into houses just to have a look.I'm a mucky ghost, leave a mess, maybe pinch a camera. I watch my gloved hand twisting the doorknob. A stranger's bedroom. Mirrors. I sigh like this - Aah.

It took some time. Reassembled in the yard,he didn't look the same. I took a runand booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standingalone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world. Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself.One time, I stole a guitar and thought I mightlearn to play. I nicked a bust of Shakespeare once, flogged it, but the snowman was the strangest. You don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?

Stealing The poem in Detail

Page 21: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy

The most unusual thing I ever stole? A snowman. Midnight. He looked magnificent; a tall, white mute beneath the winter moon. I wanted him, a mate with a mind as cold as the slice of ice within my own brain. I started with the head. Better off dead than giving in, not takingwhat you want. He weighed a ton; his torso, frozen stiff, hugged to my chest, a fierce chill piercing my gut. Part of the thrill was knowing that children would cry in the morning. Life's tough.

Sometimes I steal things I don't need. I joy-ride cars to nowhere, break into houses just to have a look.I'm a mucky ghost, leave a mess, maybe pinch a camera. I watch my gloved hand twisting the doorknob. A stranger's bedroom. Mirrors. I sigh like this - Aah.

It took some time. Reassembled in the yard,he didn't look the same. I took a runand booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standingalone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world. Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself.One time, I stole a guitar and thought I mightlearn to play. I nicked a bust of Shakespeare once, flogged it, but the snowman was the strangest. You don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?

Mini Task 9On your copy of the poem underline/highlight the Alliteration in Stanza 1.

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 1

Page 22: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy

The most unusual thing I ever stole? A snowman. Midnight. He looked magnificent; a tall, white mute beneath the winter moon. I wanted him, a mate with a mind as cold as the slice of ice within my own brain. I started with the head. Better off dead than giving in, not takingwhat you want. He weighed a ton; his torso, frozen stiff, hugged to my chest, a fierce chill piercing my gut. Part of the thrill was knowing that children would cry in the morning. Life's tough.

Sometimes I steal things I don't need. I joy-ride cars to nowhere, break into houses just to have a look.I'm a mucky ghost, leave a mess, maybe pinch a camera. I watch my gloved hand twisting the doorknob. A stranger's bedroom. Mirrors. I sigh like this - Aah.

It took some time. Reassembled in the yard,he didn't look the same. I took a runand booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standingalone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world. Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself.One time, I stole a guitar and thought I mightlearn to play. I nicked a bust of Shakespeare once, flogged it, but the snowman was the strangest. You don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?

Mini Task 9On your copy of the poem underline/highlight the Alliteration in Stanza 1.

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 1

Page 23: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy

Mini Task 9On your copy of the poem underline/highlight the Alliteration in Stanza 1.

Page 24: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy

The most unusual thing I ever stole? A snowman. Midnight. He looked magnificent; a tall, white mute beneath the winter moon. I wanted him, a mate with a mind as cold as the slice of ice within my own brain. I started with the head. Better off dead than giving in, not takingwhat you want. He weighed a ton; his torso, frozen stiff, hugged to my chest, a fierce chill piercing my gut. Part of the thrill was knowing that children would cry in the morning. Life's tough.

Sometimes I steal things I don't need. I joy-ride cars to nowhere, break into houses just to have a look.I'm a mucky ghost, leave a mess, maybe pinch a camera. I watch my gloved hand twisting the doorknob. A stranger's bedroom. Mirrors. I sigh like this - Aah.

It took some time. Reassembled in the yard,he didn't look the same. I took a runand booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standingalone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world. Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself.One time, I stole a guitar and thought I mightlearn to play. I nicked a bust of Shakespeare once, flogged it, but the snowman was the strangest. You don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 1

Mini Task 10What other poetic devices do you notice in Stanza 1?

Page 25: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy

The most unusual thing I ever stole? A snowman. Midnight. He looked magnificent; a tall, white mute beneath the winter moon. I wanted him, a mate with a mind as cold as the slice of ice within my own brain. I started with the head. Better off dead than giving in, not takingwhat you want. He weighed a ton; his torso, frozen stiff, hugged to my chest, a fierce chill piercing my gut. Part of the thrill was knowing that children would cry in the morning. Life's tough.

Sometimes I steal things I don't need. I joy-ride cars to nowhere, break into houses just to have a look.I'm a mucky ghost, leave a mess, maybe pinch a camera. I watch my gloved hand twisting the doorknob. A stranger's bedroom. Mirrors. I sigh like this - Aah.

It took some time. Reassembled in the yard,he didn't look the same. I took a runand booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standingalone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world. Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself.One time, I stole a guitar and thought I mightlearn to play. I nicked a bust of Shakespeare once, flogged it, but the snowman was the strangest. You don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 1

Mini Task 10What other poetic devices do you notice in Stanza 1?Imagery & Internal Rhyme

Mini Task 11List 3 images created in Stanza 1

Page 26: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy

The most unusual thing I ever stole? A snowman. Midnight. He looked magnificent; a tall, white mute beneath the winter moon. I wanted him, a mate with a mind as cold as the slice of ice within my own brain. I started with the head. Better off dead than giving in, not takingwhat you want. He weighed a ton; his torso, frozen stiff, hugged to my chest, a fierce chill piercing my gut. Part of the thrill was knowing that children would cry in the morning. Life's tough.

Sometimes I steal things I don't need. I joy-ride cars to nowhere, break into houses just to have a look.I'm a mucky ghost, leave a mess, maybe pinch a camera. I watch my gloved hand twisting the doorknob. A stranger's bedroom. Mirrors. I sigh like this - Aah.

It took some time. Reassembled in the yard,he didn't look the same. I took a runand booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standingalone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world. Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself.One time, I stole a guitar and thought I mightlearn to play. I nicked a bust of Shakespeare once, flogged it, but the snowman was the strangest. You don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 1

Mini Task 11List 3 images created in Stanza 11. The tall, white, magnificent snowman.2. Midnight3. Winter Moon4. Brain5. The snowman’s head

Mini Task 12What is the internal rhyme in Stanza 1?

Page 27: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy

The most unusual thing I ever stole? A snowman. Midnight. He looked magnificent; a tall, white mute beneath the winter moon. I wanted him, a mate with a mind as cold as the slice of ice within my own brain. I started with the head. Better off dead than giving in, not takingwhat you want. He weighed a ton; his torso, frozen stiff, hugged to my chest, a fierce chill piercing my gut. Part of the thrill was knowing that children would cry in the morning. Life's tough.

Sometimes I steal things I don't need. I joy-ride cars to nowhere, break into houses just to have a look.I'm a mucky ghost, leave a mess, maybe pinch a camera. I watch my gloved hand twisting the doorknob. A stranger's bedroom. Mirrors. I sigh like this - Aah.

It took some time. Reassembled in the yard,he didn't look the same. I took a runand booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standingalone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world. Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself.One time, I stole a guitar and thought I mightlearn to play. I nicked a bust of Shakespeare once, flogged it, but the snowman was the strangest. You don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 1

Mini Task 12What is the internal rhyme in Stanza 1?Slice of ice

Page 28: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy

The most unusual thing I ever stole? A snowman. Midnight. He looked magnificent; a tall, white mute beneath the winter moon. I wanted him, a mate with a mind as cold as the slice of ice within my own brain. I started with the head. Better off dead than giving in, not takingwhat you want. He weighed a ton; his torso, frozen stiff, hugged to my chest, a fierce chill piercing my gut. Part of the thrill was knowing that children would cry in the morning. Life's tough.

Sometimes I steal things I don't need. I joy-ride cars to nowhere, break into houses just to have a look.I'm a mucky ghost, leave a mess, maybe pinch a camera. I watch my gloved hand twisting the doorknob. A stranger's bedroom. Mirrors. I sigh like this - Aah.

It took some time. Reassembled in the yard,he didn't look the same. I took a runand booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standingalone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world. Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself.One time, I stole a guitar and thought I mightlearn to play. I nicked a bust of Shakespeare once, flogged it, but the snowman was the strangest. You don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 2

Mini Task 12On your copy of the poem underline/highlight the Alliteration in Stanza 2.

Page 29: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy

The most unusual thing I ever stole? A snowman. Midnight. He looked magnificent; a tall, white mute beneath the winter moon. I wanted him, a mate with a mind as cold as the slice of ice within my own brain. I started with the head. Better off dead than giving in, not takingwhat you want. He weighed a ton; his torso, frozen stiff, hugged to my chest, a fierce chill piercing my gut. Part of the thrill was knowing that children would cry in the morning. Life's tough.

Sometimes I steal things I don't need. I joy-ride cars to nowhere, break into houses just to have a look.I'm a mucky ghost, leave a mess, maybe pinch a camera. I watch my gloved hand twisting the doorknob. A stranger's bedroom. Mirrors. I sigh like this - Aah.

It took some time. Reassembled in the yard,he didn't look the same. I took a runand booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standingalone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world. Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself.One time, I stole a guitar and thought I mightlearn to play. I nicked a bust of Shakespeare once, flogged it, but the snowman was the strangest. You don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 2

Mini Task 12On your copy of the poem underline/highlight the Alliteration in Stanza 2.

Page 30: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 2

Mini Task 12On your copy of the poem underline/highlight the Alliteration in Stanza 2.

Page 31: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy

The most unusual thing I ever stole? A snowman. Midnight. He looked magnificent; a tall, white mute beneath the winter moon. I wanted him, a mate with a mind as cold as the slice of ice within my own brain. I started with the head. Better off dead than giving in, not takingwhat you want. He weighed a ton; his torso, frozen stiff, hugged to my chest, a fierce chill piercing my gut. Part of the thrill was knowing that children would cry in the morning. Life's tough.

Sometimes I steal things I don't need. I joy-ride cars to nowhere, break into houses just to have a look.I'm a mucky ghost, leave a mess, maybe pinch a camera. I watch my gloved hand twisting the doorknob. A stranger's bedroom. Mirrors. I sigh like this - Aah.

It took some time. Reassembled in the yard,he didn't look the same. I took a runand booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standingalone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world. Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself.One time, I stole a guitar and thought I mightlearn to play. I nicked a bust of Shakespeare once, flogged it, but the snowman was the strangest. You don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 2

Mini Task 13On your copy of the poem underline/highlight the internal rhyme in Stanza 2.

Page 32: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy

The most unusual thing I ever stole? A snowman. Midnight. He looked magnificent; a tall, white mute beneath the winter moon. I wanted him, a mate with a mind as cold as the slice of ice within my own brain. I started with the head. Better off dead than giving in, not takingwhat you want. He weighed a ton; his torso, frozen stiff, hugged to my chest, a fierce chill piercing my gut. Part of the thrill was knowing that children would cry in the morning. Life's tough.

Sometimes I steal things I don't need. I joy-ride cars to nowhere, break into houses just to have a look.I'm a mucky ghost, leave a mess, maybe pinch a camera. I watch my gloved hand twisting the doorknob. A stranger's bedroom. Mirrors. I sigh like this - Aah.

It took some time. Reassembled in the yard,he didn't look the same. I took a runand booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standingalone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world. Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself.One time, I stole a guitar and thought I mightlearn to play. I nicked a bust of Shakespeare once, flogged it, but the snowman was the strangest. You don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 2

Mini Task 13On your copy of the poem underline/highlight the internal rhyme in Stanza 2.

Page 33: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy

The most unusual thing I ever stole? A snowman. Midnight. He looked magnificent; a tall, white mute beneath the winter moon. I wanted him, a mate with a mind as cold as the slice of ice within my own brain. I started with the head. Better off dead than giving in, not takingwhat you want. He weighed a ton; his torso, frozen stiff, hugged to my chest, a fierce chill piercing my gut. Part of the thrill was knowing that children would cry in the morning. Life's tough.

Sometimes I steal things I don't need. I joy-ride cars to nowhere, break into houses just to have a look.I'm a mucky ghost, leave a mess, maybe pinch a camera. I watch my gloved hand twisting the doorknob. A stranger's bedroom. Mirrors. I sigh like this - Aah.

It took some time. Reassembled in the yard,he didn't look the same. I took a runand booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standingalone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world. Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself.One time, I stole a guitar and thought I mightlearn to play. I nicked a bust of Shakespeare once, flogged it, but the snowman was the strangest. You don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 2

Mini Task 14On your copy of the poem underline/highlight the two central images in Stanza 2.

Page 34: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy

The most unusual thing I ever stole? A snowman. Midnight. He looked magnificent; a tall, white mute beneath the winter moon. I wanted him, a mate with a mind as cold as the slice of ice within my own brain. I started with the head. Better off dead than giving in, not takingwhat you want. He weighed a ton; his torso, frozen stiff, hugged to my chest, a fierce chill piercing my gut. Part of the thrill was knowing that children would cry in the morning. Life's tough.

Sometimes I steal things I don't need. I joy-ride cars to nowhere, break into houses just to have a look.I'm a mucky ghost, leave a mess, maybe pinch a camera. I watch my gloved hand twisting the doorknob. A stranger's bedroom. Mirrors. I sigh like this - Aah.

It took some time. Reassembled in the yard,he didn't look the same. I took a runand booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standingalone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world. Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself.One time, I stole a guitar and thought I mightlearn to play. I nicked a bust of Shakespeare once, flogged it, but the snowman was the strangest. You don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 2

Mini Task 14On your copy of the poem underline/highlight the two central images in Stanza 2.

Page 35: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy

The most unusual thing I ever stole? A snowman. Midnight. He looked magnificent; a tall, white mute beneath the winter moon. I wanted him, a mate with a mind as cold as the slice of ice within my own brain. I started with the head. Better off dead than giving in, not takingwhat you want. He weighed a ton; his torso, frozen stiff, hugged to my chest, a fierce chill piercing my gut. Part of the thrill was knowing that children would cry in the morning. Life's tough.

Sometimes I steal things I don't need. I joy-ride cars to nowhere, break into houses just to have a look.I'm a mucky ghost, leave a mess, maybe pinch a camera. I watch my gloved hand twisting the doorknob. A stranger's bedroom. Mirrors. I sigh like this - Aah.

It took some time. Reassembled in the yard,he didn't look the same. I took a runand booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standingalone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world. Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself.One time, I stole a guitar and thought I mightlearn to play. I nicked a bust of Shakespeare once, flogged it, but the snowman was the strangest. You don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 2

Mini Task 15What does this line mean?

Page 36: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy

The most unusual thing I ever stole? A snowman. Midnight. He looked magnificent; a tall, white mute beneath the winter moon. I wanted him, a mate with a mind as cold as the slice of ice within my own brain. I started with the head. Better off dead than giving in, not takingwhat you want. He weighed a ton; his torso, frozen stiff, hugged to my chest, a fierce chill piercing my gut. Part of the thrill was knowing that children would cry in the morning. Life's tough.

Sometimes I steal things I don't need. I joy-ride cars to nowhere, break into houses just to have a look.I'm a mucky ghost, leave a mess, maybe pinch a camera. I watch my gloved hand twisting the doorknob. A stranger's bedroom. Mirrors. I sigh like this - Aah.

It took some time. Reassembled in the yard,he didn't look the same. I took a runand booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standingalone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world. Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself.One time, I stole a guitar and thought I mightlearn to play. I nicked a bust of Shakespeare once, flogged it, but the snowman was the strangest. You don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 2

Mini Task 15What does this line mean?This line helps to convey the idea that the thief is a person with no feelings and no conscience. He is detached from society and the rules that govern it, refusing to give in to it rules and so he only thinks about himself and what he wants or needs.

Page 37: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy

The most unusual thing I ever stole? A snowman. Midnight. He looked magnificent; a tall, white mute beneath the winter moon. I wanted him, a mate with a mind as cold as the slice of ice within my own brain. I started with the head. Better off dead than giving in, not takingwhat you want. He weighed a ton; his torso, frozen stiff, hugged to my chest, a fierce chill piercing my gut. Part of the thrill was knowing that children would cry in the morning. Life's tough.

Sometimes I steal things I don't need. I joy-ride cars to nowhere, break into houses just to have a look.I'm a mucky ghost, leave a mess, maybe pinch a camera. I watch my gloved hand twisting the doorknob. A stranger's bedroom. Mirrors. I sigh like this - Aah.

It took some time. Reassembled in the yard,he didn't look the same. I took a runand booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standingalone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world. Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself.One time, I stole a guitar and thought I mightlearn to play. I nicked a bust of Shakespeare once, flogged it, but the snowman was the strangest. You don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 2

Mini Task 16What does this line mean?

Page 38: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy

The most unusual thing I ever stole? A snowman. Midnight. He looked magnificent; a tall, white mute beneath the winter moon. I wanted him, a mate with a mind as cold as the slice of ice within my own brain. I started with the head. Better off dead than giving in, not takingwhat you want. He weighed a ton; his torso, frozen stiff, hugged to my chest, a fierce chill piercing my gut. Part of the thrill was knowing that children would cry in the morning. Life's tough.

Sometimes I steal things I don't need. I joy-ride cars to nowhere, break into houses just to have a look.I'm a mucky ghost, leave a mess, maybe pinch a camera. I watch my gloved hand twisting the doorknob. A stranger's bedroom. Mirrors. I sigh like this - Aah.

It took some time. Reassembled in the yard,he didn't look the same. I took a runand booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standingalone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world. Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself.One time, I stole a guitar and thought I mightlearn to play. I nicked a bust of Shakespeare once, flogged it, but the snowman was the strangest. You don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 2

Mini Task 16What does this line mean?Building a snowman is a family activity. They are built with love and joy, emotions that would seem to be lacing from this boy’s life. He therefore gets a perverse pleasure from the thought of the upset he will cause the children who built the snowman when the see the snowman gone in the morning.

Page 39: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy

The most unusual thing I ever stole? A snowman. Midnight. He looked magnificent; a tall, white mute beneath the winter moon. I wanted him, a mate with a mind as cold as the slice of ice within my own brain. I started with the head. Better off dead than giving in, not takingwhat you want. He weighed a ton; his torso, frozen stiff, hugged to my chest, a fierce chill piercing my gut. Part of the thrill was knowing that children would cry in the morning. Life's tough.

Sometimes I steal things I don't need. I joy-ride cars to nowhere, break into houses just to have a look.I'm a mucky ghost, leave a mess, maybe pinch a camera. I watch my gloved hand twisting the doorknob. A stranger's bedroom. Mirrors. I sigh like this - Aah.

It took some time. Reassembled in the yard,he didn't look the same. I took a runand booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standingalone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world. Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself.One time, I stole a guitar and thought I mightlearn to play. I nicked a bust of Shakespeare once, flogged it, but the snowman was the strangest. You don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 2

Mini Task 17What does this line mean?

Page 40: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy

The most unusual thing I ever stole? A snowman. Midnight. He looked magnificent; a tall, white mute beneath the winter moon. I wanted him, a mate with a mind as cold as the slice of ice within my own brain. I started with the head. Better off dead than giving in, not takingwhat you want. He weighed a ton; his torso, frozen stiff, hugged to my chest, a fierce chill piercing my gut. Part of the thrill was knowing that children would cry in the morning. Life's tough.

Sometimes I steal things I don't need. I joy-ride cars to nowhere, break into houses just to have a look.I'm a mucky ghost, leave a mess, maybe pinch a camera. I watch my gloved hand twisting the doorknob. A stranger's bedroom. Mirrors. I sigh like this - Aah.

It took some time. Reassembled in the yard,he didn't look the same. I took a runand booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standingalone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world. Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself.One time, I stole a guitar and thought I mightlearn to play. I nicked a bust of Shakespeare once, flogged it, but the snowman was the strangest. You don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 2

Mini Task 17What does this line mean?Life is tough for him so it ought to be tough for everyone.

Page 41: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy

The most unusual thing I ever stole? A snowman. Midnight. He looked magnificent; a tall, white mute beneath the winter moon. I wanted him, a mate with a mind as cold as the slice of ice within my own brain. I started with the head. Better off dead than giving in, not takingwhat you want. He weighed a ton; his torso, frozen stiff, hugged to my chest, a fierce chill piercing my gut. Part of the thrill was knowing that children would cry in the morning. Life's tough.

Sometimes I steal things I don't need. I joy-ride cars to nowhere, break into houses just to have a look.I'm a mucky ghost, leave a mess, maybe pinch a camera. I watch my gloved hand twisting the doorknob. A stranger's bedroom. Mirrors. I sigh like this - Aah.

It took some time. Reassembled in the yard,he didn't look the same. I took a runand booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standingalone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world. Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself.One time, I stole a guitar and thought I mightlearn to play. I nicked a bust of Shakespeare once, flogged it, but the snowman was the strangest. You don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 3

Mini Task 18On your copy of the poem underline/highlight the Alliteration in Stanza 3.

Page 42: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy

The most unusual thing I ever stole? A snowman. Midnight. He looked magnificent; a tall, white mute beneath the winter moon. I wanted him, a mate with a mind as cold as the slice of ice within my own brain. I started with the head. Better off dead than giving in, not takingwhat you want. He weighed a ton; his torso, frozen stiff, hugged to my chest, a fierce chill piercing my gut. Part of the thrill was knowing that children would cry in the morning. Life's tough.

Sometimes I steal things I don't need. I joy-ride cars to nowhere, break into houses just to have a look.I'm a mucky ghost, leave a mess, maybe pinch a camera. I watch my gloved hand twisting the doorknob. A stranger's bedroom. Mirrors. I sigh like this - Aah.

It took some time. Reassembled in the yard,he didn't look the same. I took a runand booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standingalone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world. Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself.One time, I stole a guitar and thought I mightlearn to play. I nicked a bust of Shakespeare once, flogged it, but the snowman was the strangest. You don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 3

Mini Task 18On your copy of the poem underline/highlight the Alliteration in Stanza 3.

Page 43: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 3

Mini Task 18On your copy of the poem underline/highlight the Alliteration in Stanza 3.

Page 44: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy

The most unusual thing I ever stole? A snowman. Midnight. He looked magnificent; a tall, white mute beneath the winter moon. I wanted him, a mate with a mind as cold as the slice of ice within my own brain. I started with the head. Better off dead than giving in, not takingwhat you want. He weighed a ton; his torso, frozen stiff, hugged to my chest, a fierce chill piercing my gut. Part of the thrill was knowing that children would cry in the morning. Life's tough.

Sometimes I steal things I don't need. I joy-ride cars to nowhere, break into houses just to have a look.I'm a mucky ghost, leave a mess, maybe pinch a camera. I watch my gloved hand twisting the doorknob. A stranger's bedroom. Mirrors. I sigh like this - Aah.

It took some time. Reassembled in the yard,he didn't look the same. I took a runand booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standingalone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world. Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself.One time, I stole a guitar and thought I mightlearn to play. I nicked a bust of Shakespeare once, flogged it, but the snowman was the strangest. You don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 3

Mini Task 19List the images in Stanza 3.

Page 45: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy

The most unusual thing I ever stole? A snowman. Midnight. He looked magnificent; a tall, white mute beneath the winter moon. I wanted him, a mate with a mind as cold as the slice of ice within my own brain. I started with the head. Better off dead than giving in, not takingwhat you want. He weighed a ton; his torso, frozen stiff, hugged to my chest, a fierce chill piercing my gut. Part of the thrill was knowing that children would cry in the morning. Life's tough.

Sometimes I steal things I don't need. I joy-ride cars to nowhere, break into houses just to have a look.I'm a mucky ghost, leave a mess, maybe pinch a camera. I watch my gloved hand twisting the doorknob. A stranger's bedroom. Mirrors. I sigh like this - Aah.

It took some time. Reassembled in the yard,he didn't look the same. I took a runand booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standingalone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world. Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself.One time, I stole a guitar and thought I mightlearn to play. I nicked a bust of Shakespeare once, flogged it, but the snowman was the strangest. You don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 3

Mini Task 19List the images in Stanza 3.• Stolen cars• Burgled houses• The mess after a break-in• A camera• The gloved hand• Doorknob• Bedroom• Mirrors• The sigh – which is sound or sensory imagery

Page 46: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy

The most unusual thing I ever stole? A snowman. Midnight. He looked magnificent; a tall, white mute beneath the winter moon. I wanted him, a mate with a mind as cold as the slice of ice within my own brain. I started with the head. Better off dead than giving in, not takingwhat you want. He weighed a ton; his torso, frozen stiff, hugged to my chest, a fierce chill piercing my gut. Part of the thrill was knowing that children would cry in the morning. Life's tough.

Sometimes I steal things I don't need. I joy-ride cars to nowhere, break into houses just to have a look.I'm a mucky ghost, leave a mess, maybe pinch a camera. I watch my gloved hand twisting the doorknob. A stranger's bedroom. Mirrors. I sigh like this - Aah.

It took some time. Reassembled in the yard,he didn't look the same. I took a runand booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standingalone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world. Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself.One time, I stole a guitar and thought I mightlearn to play. I nicked a bust of Shakespeare once, flogged it, but the snowman was the strangest. You don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 3

Mini Task 20What does ‘I watch my gloved hand twisting the doorknob’ tell us about this character?

Page 47: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy

The most unusual thing I ever stole? A snowman. Midnight. He looked magnificent; a tall, white mute beneath the winter moon. I wanted him, a mate with a mind as cold as the slice of ice within my own brain. I started with the head. Better off dead than giving in, not takingwhat you want. He weighed a ton; his torso, frozen stiff, hugged to my chest, a fierce chill piercing my gut. Part of the thrill was knowing that children would cry in the morning. Life's tough.

Sometimes I steal things I don't need. I joy-ride cars to nowhere, break into houses just to have a look.I'm a mucky ghost, leave a mess, maybe pinch a camera. I watch my gloved hand twisting the doorknob. A stranger's bedroom. Mirrors. I sigh like this - Aah.

It took some time. Reassembled in the yard,he didn't look the same. I took a runand booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standingalone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world. Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself.One time, I stole a guitar and thought I mightlearn to play. I nicked a bust of Shakespeare once, flogged it, but the snowman was the strangest. You don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 3

Mini Task 20What does ‘I watch my gloved hand twisting the doorknob’ tell us about this character?It is another example of his detachment. He seems to stand outside himself observing what he is doing almost as if it is another person committing the crime.

Page 48: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy

The most unusual thing I ever stole? A snowman. Midnight. He looked magnificent; a tall, white mute beneath the winter moon. I wanted him, a mate with a mind as cold as the slice of ice within my own brain. I started with the head. Better off dead than giving in, not takingwhat you want. He weighed a ton; his torso, frozen stiff, hugged to my chest, a fierce chill piercing my gut. Part of the thrill was knowing that children would cry in the morning. Life's tough.

Sometimes I steal things I don't need. I joy-ride cars to nowhere, break into houses just to have a look.I'm a mucky ghost, leave a mess, maybe pinch a camera. I watch my gloved hand twisting the doorknob. A stranger's bedroom. Mirrors. I sigh like this - Aah.

It took some time. Reassembled in the yard,he didn't look the same. I took a runand booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standingalone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world. Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself.One time, I stole a guitar and thought I mightlearn to play. I nicked a bust of Shakespeare once, flogged it, but the snowman was the strangest. You don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 4

Mini Task 21On your copy of the poem underline/highlight the Alliteration in Stanza 4

Page 49: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy

The most unusual thing I ever stole? A snowman. Midnight. He looked magnificent; a tall, white mute beneath the winter moon. I wanted him, a mate with a mind as cold as the slice of ice within my own brain. I started with the head. Better off dead than giving in, not takingwhat you want. He weighed a ton; his torso, frozen stiff, hugged to my chest, a fierce chill piercing my gut. Part of the thrill was knowing that children would cry in the morning. Life's tough.

Sometimes I steal things I don't need. I joy-ride cars to nowhere, break into houses just to have a look.I'm a mucky ghost, leave a mess, maybe pinch a camera. I watch my gloved hand twisting the doorknob. A stranger's bedroom. Mirrors. I sigh like this - Aah.

It took some time. Reassembled in the yard,he didn't look the same. I took a runand booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standingalone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world. Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself.One time, I stole a guitar and thought I mightlearn to play. I nicked a bust of Shakespeare once, flogged it, but the snowman was the strangest. You don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 4

Mini Task 21On your copy of the poem underline/highlight the Alliteration in Stanza 4

Page 50: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 4

Mini Task 21On your copy of the poem underline/highlight the Alliteration in Stanza 4

Page 51: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy

The most unusual thing I ever stole? A snowman. Midnight. He looked magnificent; a tall, white mute beneath the winter moon. I wanted him, a mate with a mind as cold as the slice of ice within my own brain. I started with the head. Better off dead than giving in, not takingwhat you want. He weighed a ton; his torso, frozen stiff, hugged to my chest, a fierce chill piercing my gut. Part of the thrill was knowing that children would cry in the morning. Life's tough.

Sometimes I steal things I don't need. I joy-ride cars to nowhere, break into houses just to have a look.I'm a mucky ghost, leave a mess, maybe pinch a camera. I watch my gloved hand twisting the doorknob. A stranger's bedroom. Mirrors. I sigh like this - Aah.

It took some time. Reassembled in the yard,he didn't look the same. I took a runand booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standingalone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world. Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself.One time, I stole a guitar and thought I mightlearn to play. I nicked a bust of Shakespeare once, flogged it, but the snowman was the strangest. You don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 4

Mini Task 21What are the 3 key images in Stanza 4 ?

Page 52: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy

The most unusual thing I ever stole? A snowman. Midnight. He looked magnificent; a tall, white mute beneath the winter moon. I wanted him, a mate with a mind as cold as the slice of ice within my own brain. I started with the head. Better off dead than giving in, not takingwhat you want. He weighed a ton; his torso, frozen stiff, hugged to my chest, a fierce chill piercing my gut. Part of the thrill was knowing that children would cry in the morning. Life's tough.

Sometimes I steal things I don't need. I joy-ride cars to nowhere, break into houses just to have a look.I'm a mucky ghost, leave a mess, maybe pinch a camera. I watch my gloved hand twisting the doorknob. A stranger's bedroom. Mirrors. I sigh like this - Aah.

It took some time. Reassembled in the yard,he didn't look the same. I took a runand booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standingalone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world. Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself.One time, I stole a guitar and thought I mightlearn to play. I nicked a bust of Shakespeare once, flogged it, but the snowman was the strangest. You don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 4

Mini Task 21What are the 3 key images in Stanza 4 ?1. The reassembled snowman2. Kicking the snowman3. Standing alone (with a

destroyed snowman!)

Page 53: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy

The most unusual thing I ever stole? A snowman. Midnight. He looked magnificent; a tall, white mute beneath the winter moon. I wanted him, a mate with a mind as cold as the slice of ice within my own brain. I started with the head. Better off dead than giving in, not takingwhat you want. He weighed a ton; his torso, frozen stiff, hugged to my chest, a fierce chill piercing my gut. Part of the thrill was knowing that children would cry in the morning. Life's tough.

Sometimes I steal things I don't need. I joy-ride cars to nowhere, break into houses just to have a look.I'm a mucky ghost, leave a mess, maybe pinch a camera. I watch my gloved hand twisting the doorknob. A stranger's bedroom. Mirrors. I sigh like this - Aah.

It took some time. Reassembled in the yard,he didn't look the same. I took a runand booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standingalone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world. Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself.One time, I stole a guitar and thought I mightlearn to play. I nicked a bust of Shakespeare once, flogged it, but the snowman was the strangest. You don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 4

Mini Task 22What is the message or meaning of Stanza 4 ?

Page 54: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy

The most unusual thing I ever stole? A snowman. Midnight. He looked magnificent; a tall, white mute beneath the winter moon. I wanted him, a mate with a mind as cold as the slice of ice within my own brain. I started with the head. Better off dead than giving in, not takingwhat you want. He weighed a ton; his torso, frozen stiff, hugged to my chest, a fierce chill piercing my gut. Part of the thrill was knowing that children would cry in the morning. Life's tough.

Sometimes I steal things I don't need. I joy-ride cars to nowhere, break into houses just to have a look.I'm a mucky ghost, leave a mess, maybe pinch a camera. I watch my gloved hand twisting the doorknob. A stranger's bedroom. Mirrors. I sigh like this - Aah.

It took some time. Reassembled in the yard,he didn't look the same. I took a runand booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standingalone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world. Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself.One time, I stole a guitar and thought I mightlearn to play. I nicked a bust of Shakespeare once, flogged it, but the snowman was the strangest. You don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 4

Mini Task 22What is the message or meaning of Stanza 4 ?It illustrates the total pointlessness of his existence. He robs the snowman, which is in itself a pointless action as all they ever do is melt, spends hours carrying it home and re-building it in the middle of a winter’s night, only to kick it to pieces when he has put it back together.

Page 55: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy

The most unusual thing I ever stole? A snowman. Midnight. He looked magnificent; a tall, white mute beneath the winter moon. I wanted him, a mate with a mind as cold as the slice of ice within my own brain. I started with the head. Better off dead than giving in, not takingwhat you want. He weighed a ton; his torso, frozen stiff, hugged to my chest, a fierce chill piercing my gut. Part of the thrill was knowing that children would cry in the morning. Life's tough.

Sometimes I steal things I don't need. I joy-ride cars to nowhere, break into houses just to have a look.I'm a mucky ghost, leave a mess, maybe pinch a camera. I watch my gloved hand twisting the doorknob. A stranger's bedroom. Mirrors. I sigh like this - Aah.

It took some time. Reassembled in the yard,he didn't look the same. I took a runand booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standingalone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world. Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself.One time, I stole a guitar and thought I mightlearn to play. I nicked a bust of Shakespeare once, flogged it, but the snowman was the strangest. You don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 4

Mini Task 23Why does he destroy the snowman?

Page 56: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy

The most unusual thing I ever stole? A snowman. Midnight. He looked magnificent; a tall, white mute beneath the winter moon. I wanted him, a mate with a mind as cold as the slice of ice within my own brain. I started with the head. Better off dead than giving in, not takingwhat you want. He weighed a ton; his torso, frozen stiff, hugged to my chest, a fierce chill piercing my gut. Part of the thrill was knowing that children would cry in the morning. Life's tough.

Sometimes I steal things I don't need. I joy-ride cars to nowhere, break into houses just to have a look.I'm a mucky ghost, leave a mess, maybe pinch a camera. I watch my gloved hand twisting the doorknob. A stranger's bedroom. Mirrors. I sigh like this - Aah.

It took some time. Reassembled in the yard,he didn't look the same. I took a runand booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standingalone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world. Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself.One time, I stole a guitar and thought I mightlearn to play. I nicked a bust of Shakespeare once, flogged it, but the snowman was the strangest. You don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 4

Mini Task 23Why does he destroy the snowman?It doesn't look the same but more importantly it has not built the same, with love and joy. The re-built snowman has been constructed out of envy and hatred, so of course he won’t look the same.

Page 57: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy

The most unusual thing I ever stole? A snowman. Midnight. He looked magnificent; a tall, white mute beneath the winter moon. I wanted him, a mate with a mind as cold as the slice of ice within my own brain. I started with the head. Better off dead than giving in, not takingwhat you want. He weighed a ton; his torso, frozen stiff, hugged to my chest, a fierce chill piercing my gut. Part of the thrill was knowing that children would cry in the morning. Life's tough.

Sometimes I steal things I don't need. I joy-ride cars to nowhere, break into houses just to have a look.I'm a mucky ghost, leave a mess, maybe pinch a camera. I watch my gloved hand twisting the doorknob. A stranger's bedroom. Mirrors. I sigh like this - Aah.

It took some time. Reassembled in the yard,he didn't look the same. I took a runand booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standingalone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world. Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself.One time, I stole a guitar and thought I mightlearn to play. I nicked a bust of Shakespeare once, flogged it, but the snowman was the strangest.You don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 4

Mini Task 24On your copy of the poem underline/highlight the Alliteration in Stanza 5

Page 58: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy

The most unusual thing I ever stole? A snowman. Midnight. He looked magnificent; a tall, white mute beneath the winter moon. I wanted him, a mate with a mind as cold as the slice of ice within my own brain. I started with the head. Better off dead than giving in, not takingwhat you want. He weighed a ton; his torso, frozen stiff, hugged to my chest, a fierce chill piercing my gut. Part of the thrill was knowing that children would cry in the morning. Life's tough.

Sometimes I steal things I don't need. I joy-ride cars to nowhere, break into houses just to have a look.I'm a mucky ghost, leave a mess, maybe pinch a camera. I watch my gloved hand twisting the doorknob. A stranger's bedroom. Mirrors. I sigh like this - Aah.

It took some time. Reassembled in the yard,he didn't look the same. I took a runand booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standingalone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world. Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself.One time, I stole a guitar and thought I mightlearn to play. I nicked a bust of Shakespeare once, flogged it, but the snowman was the strangest.You don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 4

Mini Task 24On your copy of the poem underline/highlight the Alliteration in Stanza 5

Page 59: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy

The most unusual thing I ever stole? A snowman. Midnight. He looked magnificent; a tall, white mute beneath the winter moon. I wanted him, a mate with a mind as cold as the slice of ice within my own brain. I started with the head. Better off dead than giving in, not takingwhat you want. He weighed a ton; his torso, frozen stiff, hugged to my chest, a fierce chill piercing my gut. Part of the thrill was knowing that children would cry in the morning. Life's tough.

Sometimes I steal things I don't need. I joy-ride cars to nowhere, break into houses just to have a look.I'm a mucky ghost, leave a mess, maybe pinch a camera. I watch my gloved hand twisting the doorknob. A stranger's bedroom. Mirrors. I sigh like this - Aah.

It took some time. Reassembled in the yard,he didn't look the same. I took a runand booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standingalone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world. Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself.One time, I stole a guitar and thought I mightlearn to play. I nicked a bust of Shakespeare once, flogged it, but the snowman was the strangest.You don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 4

Mini Task 25What does the opening word of this stanza tell you?

Page 60: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy

The most unusual thing I ever stole? A snowman. Midnight. He looked magnificent; a tall, white mute beneath the winter moon. I wanted him, a mate with a mind as cold as the slice of ice within my own brain. I started with the head. Better off dead than giving in, not takingwhat you want. He weighed a ton; his torso, frozen stiff, hugged to my chest, a fierce chill piercing my gut. Part of the thrill was knowing that children would cry in the morning. Life's tough.

Sometimes I steal things I don't need. I joy-ride cars to nowhere, break into houses just to have a look.I'm a mucky ghost, leave a mess, maybe pinch a camera. I watch my gloved hand twisting the doorknob. A stranger's bedroom. Mirrors. I sigh like this - Aah.

It took some time. Reassembled in the yard,he didn't look the same. I took a runand booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standingalone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world. Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself.One time, I stole a guitar and thought I mightlearn to play. I nicked a bust of Shakespeare once, flogged it, but the snowman was the strangest.You don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 4

Mini Task 26What does the theft of the guitar and Shakespeare’s bust tell you about this character.That he is not stupid. He wants to learn to play a musical instrument (but can’t be bothered) and recognizes a statue of Shakespeare when he see one.

Page 61: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy

The most unusual thing I ever stole? A snowman. Midnight. He looked magnificent; a tall, white mute beneath the winter moon. I wanted him, a mate with a mind as cold as the slice of ice within my own brain. I started with the head. Better off dead than giving in, not takingwhat you want. He weighed a ton; his torso, frozen stiff, hugged to my chest, a fierce chill piercing my gut. Part of the thrill was knowing that children would cry in the morning. Life's tough.

Sometimes I steal things I don't need. I joy-ride cars to nowhere, break into houses just to have a look.I'm a mucky ghost, leave a mess, maybe pinch a camera. I watch my gloved hand twisting the doorknob. A stranger's bedroom. Mirrors. I sigh like this - Aah.

It took some time. Reassembled in the yard,he didn't look the same. I took a runand booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standingalone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world. Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself.One time, I stole a guitar and thought I mightlearn to play. I nicked a bust of Shakespeare once, flogged it, but the snowman was the strangest.You don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 4

Mini Task 27What is important about the final line of this stanza ?

Page 62: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy

The most unusual thing I ever stole? A snowman. Midnight. He looked magnificent; a tall, white mute beneath the winter moon. I wanted him, a mate with a mind as cold as the slice of ice within my own brain. I started with the head. Better off dead than giving in, not takingwhat you want. He weighed a ton; his torso, frozen stiff, hugged to my chest, a fierce chill piercing my gut. Part of the thrill was knowing that children would cry in the morning. Life's tough.

Sometimes I steal things I don't need. I joy-ride cars to nowhere, break into houses just to have a look.I'm a mucky ghost, leave a mess, maybe pinch a camera. I watch my gloved hand twisting the doorknob. A stranger's bedroom. Mirrors. I sigh like this - Aah.

It took some time. Reassembled in the yard,he didn't look the same. I took a runand booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standingalone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world. Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself.One time, I stole a guitar and thought I mightlearn to play. I nicked a bust of Shakespeare once, flogged it, but the snowman was the strangest.You don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 4

Mini Task 27What is important about the final line of this stanza ?It is a challenge to you to get you to try to understand him.

Page 63: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy

The most unusual thing I ever stole? A snowman. Midnight. He looked magnificent; a tall, white mute beneath the winter moon. I wanted him, a mate with a mind as cold as the slice of ice within my own brain. I started with the head. Better off dead than giving in, not takingwhat you want. He weighed a ton; his torso, frozen stiff, hugged to my chest, a fierce chill piercing my gut. Part of the thrill was knowing that children would cry in the morning. Life's tough.

Sometimes I steal things I don't need. I joy-ride cars to nowhere, break into houses just to have a look.I'm a mucky ghost, leave a mess, maybe pinch a camera. I watch my gloved hand twisting the doorknob. A stranger's bedroom. Mirrors. I sigh like this - Aah.

It took some time. Reassembled in the yard,he didn't look the same. I took a runand booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standingalone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world. Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself.One time, I stole a guitar and thought I mightlearn to play. I nicked a bust of Shakespeare once, flogged it, but the snowman was the strangest. You don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 2

Mini Task 27What is the Tone of the poem ?

Page 64: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy

The most unusual thing I ever stole? A snowman. Midnight. He looked magnificent; a tall, white mute beneath the winter moon. I wanted him, a mate with a mind as cold as the slice of ice within my own brain. I started with the head. Better off dead than giving in, not takingwhat you want. He weighed a ton; his torso, frozen stiff, hugged to my chest, a fierce chill piercing my gut. Part of the thrill was knowing that children would cry in the morning. Life's tough.

Sometimes I steal things I don't need. I joy-ride cars to nowhere, break into houses just to have a look.I'm a mucky ghost, leave a mess, maybe pinch a camera. I watch my gloved hand twisting the doorknob. A stranger's bedroom. Mirrors. I sigh like this - Aah.

It took some time. Reassembled in the yard,he didn't look the same. I took a runand booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standingalone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world. Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself.One time, I stole a guitar and thought I mightlearn to play. I nicked a bust of Shakespeare once, flogged it, but the snowman was the strangest. You don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 2

Mini Task 27What is the Tone of the poem ?Sad/lonely, violent & destructive.

Page 65: Stealing  – Carol Ann Duffy