For some strange reason, there seems to be an outbreak of poetry on blogs lately so not one to miss out on a fad, i have composed my own poem entitled 'Ode to Poets Everywhere'.
To poetry writers everywhere
You may find this post unfair
Your cloud may wander lonely in the air
But for your writing i just don't care
I don't want to be misunderstood
Just I don't think poetry is very good
This art form once had a romantic air
Elaborate men with passion and flare
If, The Raven, a wonderful pair
But now decent poems are very rare
I don't call all poets unexciting
Just your chosen form of writing
It's adolescents with floppy hair
With broken hearts they must repair
Their deepest thoughts that they must bare
With rhyming couplets laden with despair
I am not mocking lovers dismay
Just write things in a normal way
So to bloggers to make you aware
This recent outbreak of poetic fare
Is pretentious and a little bit square
And not a practise that i will share
We all get passionate about things some time
Just we don't make it into a bloody Rhyme!
As Poe once said from his reclining chair
His nerves all shredded and his whitening hair
It wasn't the Raven that gave him the scare
T'was the thought of a poet standing there
So take a lesson from the Raven on Poe's Door
And make words rhyme..'Nevermore'
Thank you
10 comments:
Writing poetry is not my game,
But David Grayling is my name.
"So what," cry Q and Tosser Cheezy.
They both make me feel rather queasy.
I await the day when they see the light.
But such an event could well cause fright!
I'll leave you now, my poem done,
I hope that it has generated some fun!
CHEERS!
There was a young boy called David G,
Who found he could never out-debate me,
His juvenilve shit,
Made him sound like a git,
Which is why he’d dump his predictable, tiresome lefty platitudes into a thread, and then flee.
CHEERS!
Applause...
I still maintain that poetry's dreary,
But it makes these insults much more cheery.
There once was a fool called Cheezy
whose manner was always breezy.
Then he opened a blog
Which he hides in a fog
Poor Cheezy, so breezy, always greasy.
Come friendly bombs and fall on David G!
His brain is so small it wouldn't fit a flea,
It's of such low wattage it hardly has enough power to make his eyes blink three times an hour and push shit through his arse once a day.
Swarm over, Death!
Come bombs, and blow to smithereens,
His head and all the dumb-arse racism within.
The earth applauds.
man you guys are rough on each other...
q
Betjeman was a harsh man, but very fair.
Cheezy,
while i won't openly admit ignorance when it comes to government or economics, i readily admit complete ignorance when it comes to arts. so, with that preface, is harsh the same as satirical? I would say he was satirical...
q
Well, I think he was pretty harsh about the town of Slough!... No, come to think of it, strike that, I've been there. He was only being accurate!
I'm not too familiar with Betjeman though. I was always more of a Larkin man. But the other bit of Betjeman I recall is a stanza (possibly a satirical one, you're right) about the Royal Society for the Protection of Birds...
"Who runs the country? The RSPB. Their members are behind every hedge."
slough is great place huh? never imagined going there...
q
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