A good article in “Spiked”, by Joe Nutt, entitled “What is the point of poetry?” I agree with the thrust of this piece and, in particular with the concluding sentences,
“In the great and even not so great outdoors, I notice much more. Poetry has been, and is, a way for me to understand my life better, and because of that, I believe those closest to me benefit, too. Because I share the world with flesh and blood living beings, not with cables, screens and keyboards”.
For the article please visit http://www.spiked-online.com/newsite/article/what-is-the-point-of-poetry/20778#.WmMqfIinzIV.
Tag Archives: poems
There Was A Young Lady Named Sally
There was a young lady named Sally
Who said “I shall your sins tally”.
I made reply “and I yours,
But behind firmly closed doors
Who knows how we dilly and dally! …
There Was A Young Labrador Named Muff
There was a young Labrador named Muff
Who’s knowledge of grammar was extremely rough.
He thought correct spelling a pain
And said “I will always maintain
That all one needs is a woof!”.
With A Click Of Heel
With a click of heel
And a flick
Of her hair.
She passes, light as air.
As she wriggles her hips
He trips
Over each word.
He may be absurd
But an eel
Is not immortal
An Anoying Young Man Named Guy
An annoying young man named Guy
Said “this music makes me want to die!”.
So they turned it up real loud
And someone brought him a shroud,
But Guy he refused to die!
Visitation
I dreamed of poetry yesternight
And awoke to the delight
Of your clear, cold cry.
And I
Was left wondering why
Each visitation you make
Does my complacency shake.
I was not long awake
Yet your cold, clear cry
Will with me stay
Until my dying day.
The Wind Is Blowing
The wind is blowing
And soon I will be going
Outside.
Or perhaps I should hide
In here
As the weather is drear
And the prospect of writing
Is somewhat inviting.
There Was A Young Man Named Keith
There was a young man named Keith
Who met a witch on a blasted heath.
Her name it was Joan
And she lived all alone
Until she went and married Keith!
A Place Of Quietude
A place of quietude
Where few intrude
Is this room
Where soon
I shall retire
To read
Or feed
My desire
For other things.
Some strings tie.
I am lost.
books.
The mirror looks
On while
On occasions the bell pings
Ushering in a smile
And perchance,
A kind of dance.
There Was A Young Man Named Hatcher
There was a young man named Hatcher
Who worked as a professional rat catcher.
He was helped by his cat,
(A feline called Matt)
And was employed by the late Lady Thatcher!