Stealing – Carol Ann Duffy Starter If you had to steal something: what would be the most unusual or useless thing you could steal? Why would you steal it? How would you steal it? What would you do with it once you had stolen it?

Stealing – Carol Ann Duffy Starter If you had to steal something what would be the most unusual or useless thing you could steal? The poem would suggest it is a Snowman. It has no value, is difficult to move and unless you have a very big freezer to keep it in, it will eventually melt away to nothing. So, why steal a Snowman? This is the question The poem tries to answer.

Stealing – Carol Ann Duffy Learning Objectives 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.

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 taking what 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 run and booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standing alone 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 might learn 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 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 taking what 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 run and booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standing alone 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 might learn 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 1 Write down what you think is the story of the poem.

Stealing – The Story of the Poem op@kingdomschools.edu.sa 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 taking what 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 run and booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standing alone 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 might learn 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 1 Write 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 a 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 their situation, motives or life.

Stealing – The Story of the Poem 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 taking what 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 run and booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standing alone 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 might learn 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 2 What is unusual about the character who is telling this story?

Stealing – The Story of the Poem 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 taking what 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 run and booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standing alone 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 might learn 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 2 What 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 vandalizing at midnight in the middle of winter on his own is unusual and quite disturbing.

Stealing – The Story of the Poem 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 taking what 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 run and booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standing alone 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 might learn 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 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 taking what 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 run and booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standing alone 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 might learn 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? His family life must be lonely and unloved or else why is out so late on a winters night and able to spend ‘some time’ re-building the snowman and then destroying it without anyone noticing.

Stealing – The Story of the Poem 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 taking what 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 run and booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standing alone 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 might learn 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 4 What do most of the objects he says he has stolen have in common?

Stealing – The Story of the Poem 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 taking what 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 run and booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standing alone 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 might learn 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 4 What 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 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 taking what 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 run and booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standing alone 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 might learn 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 5 So if not for money, why does he steal things?

Stealing – The Story of the Poem 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 taking what 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 run and booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standing alone 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 might learn 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 5 So if not for money, why does he steal things? To relieve his boredom and he would also 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 stealing anything.

Stealing – The Story of the Poem 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 taking what 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 run and booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standing alone 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 might learn 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 6 What motivates him then?

Stealing – The Story of the Poem 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 taking what 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 run and booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standing alone 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 might learn 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 6 What motivates him then? Revenge or punishment on those who have things, especially a happy family life that he does not have. He is suffering so everyone else has to as well!.

Stealing – Form & Structure 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 taking what 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 run and booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standing alone 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 might learn 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 7 How is the poem structured? Stanzas Line length Rhyme Alliteration Rhythm

Stealing – Form & Structure 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 taking what 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 run and booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standing alone 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 might learn 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 7 How is the poem structured? Stanzas 5 stanzas of 5 lines Line length 10-14 syllables. Most lines have 12 syllables Rhyme None, but there are some chimes and internal rhymes Alliteration Lots, so many it is a Key Feature Rhythm Because of the even line length and alliteration the poem has a strong rhythm.

Stealing – Form & Structure 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 taking what 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 run and booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standing alone 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 might learn 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 8 Form means the type of poem you are reading, so what type of poem is Stealing?

Stealing – Form & Structure 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 taking what 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 run and booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standing alone 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 might learn 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 8 What sort of poem is it? It is a single person talking so the form of the poem is a monologue.

Stealing - The poem in Detail Stanza 1 Mini Task 9 On your copy of the poem underline/highlight the Alliteration/Assonance in Stanza 1. 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.  

Stealing - The poem in Detail Stanza 1 Mini Task 9 On your copy of the poem underline/highlight the Alliteration/Assonance in Stanza 1. 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.  

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

Stealing - The poem in Detail Stanza 1 Mini Task 10 What three other poetic devices are used in Stanza 1? 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.  

Stealing - The poem in Detail Stanza 1 Mini Task 10 What three other poetic devices are used in Stanza 1? Imagery, Internal Rhyme & Enjambment. 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.  

Stealing - The poem in Detail Stanza 1 Mini Task 11 List 3 images created in Stanza 1 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.  

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 1 Mini Task 11 List 3 images created in Stanza 1 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.   The tall, white, magnificent snowman. Midnight Winter Moon Slice of ice Brain The snowman’s head

Stealing - The poem in Detail Stanza 1 Mini Task 12 What are the internal rhymes in Stanza 1/2? 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 taking

Stealing - The poem in Detail Stanza 1 Mini Task 12 What are the internal rhymes in Stanza 1/2? 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 taking

Stealing - The poem in Detail Stanza 1 Mini Task 13 Where are the enjambments in Stanza 1 and what is their effect on the poem? 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.

Stealing - The poem in Detail Stanza 1 Mini Task 13 Where are the enjambments in Stanza 1 and what is their effect on the poem? They help add ‘pace’ to the middle of the stanza and enhance the ‘prose-like’ feel of the poem. 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.

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 2 Mini Task 14 On your copy of the poem underline/highlight the Alliteration in Stanza 2. Better off dead than giving in, not taking what 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.

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 2 Mini Task 14 On your copy of the poem underline/highlight the Alliteration in Stanza 2. Better off dead than giving in, not taking what 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.

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 2 Mini Task 15 What is the internal rhyme in Stanza 2? Better off dead than giving in, not taking what 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.

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 2 Mini Task 15 What is the internal rhyme in Stanza 2? . Better off dead than giving in, not taking what 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.

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 2 Mini Task 16 What are the key lines in Stanza 2 and what do they tell us about the thief? Better off dead than giving in, not taking what 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.

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 2 Mini Task 16 What are the key lines in Stanza 2 and what do they tell us about the thief? Better off dead than giving in, not taking what 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. Building a snowman is a family activity. They are built with love and joy, emotions that would seem to be lacking 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 they see the snowman gone in the morning.

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 2 Mini Task 17 What does the start of Stanza 2 tell us about the thief? Better off dead than giving in, not taking what 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.

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 2 Mini Task 17 What does the start and end of Stanza 2 tell us about the thief? Better off dead than giving in, not taking what 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. 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 rules and so he only thinks about himself and what he wants or needs.

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 2 Mini Task 18 What does the end of Stanza 2 tell us about the thief? Better off dead than giving in, not taking what 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.

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 2 Mini Task 18 What does the end of Stanza 2 tell us about the thief? Better off dead than giving in, not taking what 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. Life is tough for him so it ought to be tough for everyone.

Sometimes I steal things I don't need. I joy-ride cars Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 3 Mini Task 19 On your copy of the poem underline/highlight the Alliteration in Stanza 3. 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.

Sometimes I steal things I don't need. I joy-ride cars Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 3 Mini Task 19 On your copy of the poem underline/highlight the Alliteration in Stanza 3. 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.

Sometimes I steal things I don't need. I joy-ride cars Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 3 Mini Task 20 List 5 examples of visual imagery and the one example of sensory imagery in Stanza 3. 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.

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 3 Mini Task 20 List 5 examples of visual imagery and the one example of sensory imagery in Stanza 3. 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. 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

Sometimes I steal things I don't need. I joy-ride cars Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 3 Mini Task 21 What does ‘I watch my gloved hand twisting the doorknob’ tell us about this character? 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.

Sometimes I steal things I don't need. I joy-ride cars Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 3 Mini Task 21 What does ‘I watch my gloved hand twisting the doorknob’ tell us about this character? 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 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.

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 4 Mini Task 22 On your copy of the poem underline/highlight the Alliteration in Stanza 4 It took some time. Reassembled in the yard, he didn't look the same. I took a run and booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standing alone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world.

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 4 Mini Task 22 On your copy of the poem underline/highlight the Alliteration in Stanza 4 It took some time. Reassembled in the yard, he didn't look the same. I took a run and booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standing alone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world.

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 4 Mini Task 23 What are the 3 key images in Stanza 4 ? It took some time. Reassembled in the yard, he didn't look the same. I took a run and booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standing alone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world.

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 4 Mini Task 23 What are the 3 key images in Stanza 4 ? It took some time. Reassembled in the yard, he didn't look the same. I took a run and booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standing alone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world. The reassembled snowman Kicking the snowman Standing alone (with a destroyed snowman!)

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 4 Mini Task 24 What is the message or meaning of Stanza 4 ? It took some time. Reassembled in the yard, he didn't look the same. I took a run and booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standing alone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world.

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 4 Mini Task 24 What is the message or meaning of Stanza 4 ? It took some time. Reassembled in the yard, he didn't look the same. I took a run and booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standing alone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world. It symbolizes the total pointlessness of his existence. He robs the snowman, which is in itself a pointless act 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.

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 4 Mini Task 25 So why does he destroy the snowman? It took some time. Reassembled in the yard, he didn't look the same. I took a run and booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standing alone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world.

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 4 Mini Task 25 So why does he destroy the snowman? It took some time. Reassembled in the yard, he didn't look the same. I took a run and booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standing alone amongst lumps of snow, sick of the world. 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.

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 5 Mini Task 26 On your copy of the poem underline/highlight the Alliteration in Stanza 5. Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself. One time, I stole a guitar and thought I might learn 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 5 Mini Task 26 On your copy of the poem underline/highlight the Alliteration in Stanza 5. Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself. One time, I stole a guitar and thought I might learn 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 5 Mini Task 27 What does the opening line of this stanza tell you? Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself. One time, I stole a guitar and thought I might learn 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 5 Mini Task 27 What does the opening lineof this stanza tell you? Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself. One time, I stole a guitar and thought I might learn 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? That he is not stupid. Stupid people tend not to get bored easily. Unfortunately this character finds deviant outlets to relieve his boredom. He says he wanted to learn to play a guitar, (but I bet he didn’t bother) and he recognizes a statue of Shakespeare when he sees one. So not stupid, just trapped in a meaningless and pointless existence.

Stealing – In Detail – Stanza 5 Mini Task 28 What is important about the final line of this stanza ? Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself. One time, I stole a guitar and thought I might learn 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 5 Mini Task 28 What is important about the final line of this stanza ? Boredom. Mostly I'm so bored I could eat myself. One time, I stole a guitar and thought I might learn 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? It echoes the question at the beginning of the poem and it is a challenge to you to try to get you to understand him.

Stealing – Tone Mini Task 29 What is the Tone of the poem ? 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 taking what 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 run and booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standing alone 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 might learn 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 29 What is the Tone of the poem ? Sad/lonely, violent & destructive.

Stealing – What the poet says 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 taking what 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 run and booted him. Again. Again. My breath ripped out in rags. It seems daft now. Then I was standing alone 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 might learn 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? Read what the poet says about the poem here: http://www.sheerpoetry.co.uk/gcse/carol-ann-duffy/gcse-anthology-poems/stealing