A tree surgeon said to me,
“I cut away the rotten half
Of this old tree
Leaving the better part,
Which may survive and thrive”.
A thought came to me.
Is not our flawed humanity
Akin to that old tree?
But there has been too much lop
And chop at our poor flawed humanity.
When a young lady whose name is Beth
Said, “you have bored me quite to death!”,
I said, with a sigh,
“all flesh it must die.
But sadly Beth you are still drawing breath!”
A young lady whose name is Heart
Is known for her love of art.
With her dear friend Miss Lou
She stars in movies called blue.
And my friend he’s fond of art …
At the time this post was penned, I had not read Stephen Fry’s “The Ode Less Traveled: Unlocking the Poet within”. I have since done so and can recommend the book. However, my view remains as stated in my post back in January, namely that while books on poetic craft can be helpful, there is no substitute for reading lots of poetry. It is only by so doing that one gains an understanding of the poetic tradition and hone’s one’s own craft.
A couple of days back, I fell into conversation with a jazz musician. We talked about jazz, his teaching of music and the jazz performance I had recently attended at my local pub. On me mentioning that I am a poet, my companion said that he had recently been given a copy of Stephen Fry’s “The Ode Less Travelled: Unlocking the Poet Within, https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B003V4AT1C/, and that he had just started to compose poetry.
I have not read Fry’s “The Ode Less Travelled”, consequently I’m unable to comment on the book. I did, however say to my companion that whilst books on poetic craft may, in some instances, be helpful, its crucial to read as much poetry (of all kinds) as possible to enable the development of one’s own unique style. Such reading will bring one into contact with poetry which is not to your taste, however this is, nonetheless useful…
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Whilst frequenting my most favourite gentleman’s club
I fell into a rather large bathtub.
A girl with pretty eyes
Said, “sir, please don’t apologise.
And have you met Chief Constable Grub?”
I once had a very strict lover
Who said, “you shall have no other!”.
That naughty Miss Leigh
Was fond of 3,
And I ended by marrying her mother!
I walk at a fair old lick
And pass many elderly men and women
With their walking stick.
And, should impatience try to master me
I recall that December
Comes to us all.
And find within me a temporary humility.
When a pretty young lady named Fay
Said, “all the men they run away!”.
Her friend Miss Bland
Said, “I don’t understand,
As you are a beautiful vampire Fay!”
In early December
I heard
The dawn bird
And did remember
Another year
Will soon end.
My friends
Are growing older.
I hear
Pretty young women
Ask me
About family matters.
There will be
No more sinning.
Merely hot tea
And matters
Of domesticity
For me.
I know a young lady named Kate
Who is fond of the word undulate.
That old rake Paul
Says, “many women fall.
But Miss Kate she likes to undulate!”.
