Tuesday, 30 December 2008


The real reason I got tempted to join the blog brigade, is because I have a secret hankering to publish a book of poems, but not the confidence, drive or or even accepted poetical skills to do so. The modern fashion in poetry is for it not to rhyme; rhymers are considered 'old fashioned'. They are, however, allowed to use this form in poems intended for children, or for humourous odes or sagas. I don't for a minute say blank verse is NBG (no b****y good), and I do have many an example of my own creation, be it good or ill, that follows this pattern - or more correctly, non-pattern. In fact my latest offering was a case in point:-

Death Of A Living Room

The room resents intrusion:
shouts 'Silence!' in protest
as wooden boards echo
with departing footsteps.

Ornate marble mantelpiece
stands coldly to attention,
guards an empty fireplace
and mourns the loss of fire.

We papered over life's cracks
and painted rosy pictures
before we learned reality
needed more than a makeover.

I admit to this being a direct crib of a friend's basic theme about moving house, but these particular words are none the less all mine. Subject matter doesn't have a copyright attached...
By contrast, the following ditty (ryhming) is ALL mine - idea as well as vocabulary.

A Hostess' Farewell

Did you enjoy the party?
We hoped it would go with a swing,
but next time
we'll make sure the neighbours are out
before we let everyone sing...

Did you enjoy the party?
I'm sorry it got out of hand,
but possibly,
once all the noise has died down
the majority will understand?

Did you enjoy the party-
the food and the drink and the fun?
You must have,
because you're the last one to leave...
I'm so glad you decided to come!

I make no apologies for either one, as I enjoyed writing both, but leave it up to the reader to choose which they prefer - either or neither, of course !

1 comment:

  1. Am just catching up after a few days away at the new house... I love that first poem and it's incredibly apropos after three days of painting and sanding and painting again. The house is still largely empty and has that empty fireplace, echoing footsteps thing down to a tee. I really liked this one.

    Although I do hope I'm not the paperer-over-the-cracks in the poem :)


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