A very good piece by Sir Andrew Motion, former UK Poet Laureate, in which he gives his top 10 tips for being a successful poet. I particularly agree with his view that poets should not cut themselves off from the world or, as he puts it “live in an ivory tower”. I also agree with Motion that its important to read lots. For the article please visit https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/entertainment-arts-29538180.
A young man whose name was Lee
Wrote a poem when aged only 3,
Which a literary critic called Wood
Considered so very good,
That he framed both poem and Lee!
We drank wine blood red
Then, undesired
I retired
To bed
With you
Who performed a good show
For me.
Although the performance
Was far from being free.
There once was a writer named Hugh
Who, wishing to write something new,
Flew straight to the moon
In a hot air balloon.
But he still couldn’t write anything new.
—
There once was a writer named Hugh
Who, wishing to write something new,
Flew straight to the moon
With a heated silver spoon,
Pursued by a copper called Lou!
The wind, in the city
Blows on our pretty
Baubles. And on thee
And me.
And seems to say,
“Baubles and thee
Will pass away.
But I will stay
And laugh
At lad and lass
Who, in the joy of romance
Drink and dance
And Think
They will remain, forever young.
The poet’s tongue
Will into silence go.
While I (the weather)
Will forever
Remain
In wind, and snow,
And rain.
A young lady whose name is Leigh
Asked me round for tea.
My girlfriend Lou
Came along too,
And spilled my cup of tea!
A girl gave me daffodils today.
I said
“Thank you” (as I ought).
Some of them are, already, dead
“Can you hear the birds?” she said
As we lay
In bed.
I pondered on our play
Of yesterday,
And On is and ought.
And on how she
And me
Have more in common than I thought.
A young lady who is divine
Invited me out to dine.
But a waiter named Jim
Said, “that’s my girlfriend Kim”!
So I smiled and ordered the wine.
When a young man whose name is Moore
Called me a crushing bore,
I spoke of pink plastic ducks
And multicoloured rubber hooks,
But first I locked the door!
K Morris - Poet 