I’m not that good at poetry
Just a quick blog post. After watching Dr. John Cooper Clarke on a TV appearance recently and loving some of his minimalist poetry I decided to write a quick poem about how bad I am at poetry. It is, subtly, entitled ‘I’m not that good at poetry.’ You can read it below or on wattpad in the collection ‘Bad Poetry you probably never want to read.’
I’m not that good at poetry
I’m not that good at poetry
The rhythm seems to flow
But when it comes to rhyming
I can’t find the words that bananas
The other good news for poetry fans is that I am working on another poem all about how my baby daughter keeps stealing people’s glasses. It is going to be a classic!
New Poem – The First Word
Now the summer holidays have come I am tasking myself with writing for at least ten minutes each day so I can get something out before the end of August. Sometimes I find, like most writers, that I just need to get the first word right to allow my writing to flow. I know what I want to put down but cannot always start. For some reason today I felt like writing a poem and thought this writing conundrum was a worthy topic. Unlike the ideas behind the poem the actual writing of the poem flowed and I was able to produce it quickly. I tried to get symbolism in there rather than focusing on rhyming like I have with most of my other poems, you can not only tell this by the metaphors but the fact it does not rhyme at all! For once I feel like I did a good job and am rather proud of myself, a little bit smug you could say! You can read the poem on wattpad or take a gander below…
The First Word
Shaking, trembling, the perspiration falls
I have so much to say
So much to give to the world
Like a torrid ocean my mind swirls
I know where this will go
I just need to find its hand
So I can lead it to its destination
But alas it blocks my path
My kryptonite
My achilles heel
My dark side
My temptation
My inner demon
A vast land stretches before me
But I am stuck behind a wall
Peering through the bars of a gate
If only I could get the key
Turn the lock and be allowed to run free
I look, I stare but all is bare
As I fumble in the undergrowth
I find what I am looking for
Cold metal on my sweaty palms
But there are more and more
Some copper
Some plastic
Some card shaped
But which is right for me?
The land changes as I move each one close to the gate
It turns to fire, then ice, then sand
All will work, but only one is right
Which I pick could shape my destiny
Keep me flowing through this land
Carving out a channel through the rolling hills
Until the next wall appears and I must choose again
I use the first key I saw
Poke a toe out, the grass feels rough
It is like thorns pressing into my foot
I pull back in pain
Maybe the plastic one will do
I try again but this time I feel water
It is cold, ice cold but does not feel bad
What is that? Swimming there?
Sharp teeth, dark eyes, wide jaws
I retreat again, to the safety of this place
Behind the wall, waiting for the inspiration to come
Waiting for the right choice to be made
I search some more, there are keys
Keys everywhere
Some hang from trees, pretty and ornate
Some are deep in the ground, covered in dirt
Some give an aura of hope
Some tell of despair
And so this will go on and on
Find a key, try the lock
Taste the air and feel the ground
I will keep going
For minutes
For hours
For days
I will find the right path
I will be able to run free
But I cannot think of that now
Now I need to hunt
Now I need to search
Now I need to find my first word
World Cup Dreams competition – no entries
Now the competition to win a print copy of World Cup Dreams: Extra time edition has closed I am sad to say that, whilst I had numerous likes and gained a few followers, I did not get any entries to the competition. I think this is down to one of three reasons, nobody wants the book, my email has blocked the responses or, most likely I think, people could not think of a poem or did not have enough time to write one. To test this theory, I am reopening the competition but with one change, you do not need to submit a poem. That said, if you do submit a poem you will be more likely to win. Same rules as last time, fill in the form below and I will email for an address if you win. If I do get poems I will display them on this blog and link to blogs/Twitter/Facebook (if you want me to that is – tell me if you do not). I will even sign the copies if you want (although that might actually devalue the book!). Good luck!
Nintendo Fan Boy (a new poem)
As an ICT and Computing teacher I come across a lot of students that are gamers. The vast majority are either X-Box or PlayStation lovers and have a bit of a chip on their should when it comes to Nintendo. This seems to stem from the thoughts that Nintendo make kids games and that the graphics are not very good. I try to explain it is about gameplay but they have none of it. This frustrates me, but what frustrates me even more is that if you mention games like Mario Bros., Zelda, Mario Kart and Smash Bros. they think they are great games. Also most used to own a Wii and enjoy playing on it. Now I know that I am not a first person shooter aficionado but I can see the merits of different gaming systems, why are youngsters so close minded? To release my frustrations I have written another bad poem entitled ‘Nintendo Fan Boy‘. You can read it in my collection ‘Bad Poetry You probably never want to read‘ on wattpad. I hope you enjoy the irony in it.
Bad Poetry (+a love poem)
My first poetry book will be updated whenever I write a poem
Every now and then I write a poem, I did a few as part of World Cup Dreams but have also posted some on this blog. The other day I was working when I heard some students in an English lesson discussing love poems they were writing for their coursework. I thought, ‘you know I could write a love poem, but not one of those mushy ones, a real one about what love really is.’ So a little time later I wrote a poem about what love is not, in fact that is what I have entitled it. I have often thought of putting my poems into one book but never had enough to collate them. Then I remembered Wattpad, I tend to not use it anymore as I find it is mainly teenage girl’s fantasies and fan fiction but it is the perfect place to slowly update a book before it can be formatted for Smashwords when complete. I really don’t understand poetry and I feel I am terrible at it but I do like rhyming and getting some quick thoughts and opinions out on paper so I do enjoy writing the odd poem. I have had the title ‘Bad Poetry you probably never want to read’ in my head for a while so have used this. I know it is rather self-deprecating but I honestly don’t think I am good at poetry, also there is no common thread throughout my poems so no other title seemed to fit. I even made a horrible brown cover to make it look less enticing and like a bad 1960s self help book.
Anyway, the book is now up on Wattpad, I can’t say I will update it regularly but whenever I write a poem it will be up there. Please note that I will not be including the poems from World Cup Dreams. Have a look and tell me what you think. In other news, I have been writing more of my Movember story so that should be out before the end of the year (hopefully long before!). It will be free as Movember has been and gone but I have enjoyed writing it and I am hoping you will enjoy reading it.
Remember Me
The lack of posts recently are due to a hectic time at work, but it is National Poetry Day and as a writer I feel I should make a contribution. This year the theme is remembrance so here is my poem, entitled Remember Me…
When you watch your TV
Remember me
When you play with your phone
Remember me
When you beat your high score
Remember me
When you walk in the park
Remember me
When you hear that song
Remember me
When you hold your loved ones
Remember me
The homeless
The nameless
The long since dead
For without me
Your world would be
So much different
The things you have
Would never be yours
The things you say
Would sound so strange
The things you do
Would be unrecognisable
And for this sacrifice
I ask but one thing
Remember me
Thank you, I shall now disappear into the aether once more until I find more time to write.
