POETRY POEM

I never really “got” poetry -

Strange Mister Watson; Nice Mister Watson.

Had us read “Cristabel” and “The Deserted Village”

For “O” Level English Lit.

But whilst I understood enough

To pass with flying colours,

I never knew what their real meanings were.

I still avoided poetry –

Avant-garde authors; Pretentious writers.

Would sometimes put appropriate extracts

In amongst the prose

Of the schlocky thrillers I read

And all those other “trendy” books,

But I’d always skip past those bits.

One of my best friends liked poetry –

Tragic Laura; Sad, mad Laura.

She asked me to type out “Snow Joke”

(By Simon Armitage) on my computer

For her to stick on a kitchen cupboard door

But I added my own italics and emphasis in bold

So she made me type it out again.

We went to a night of performance poetry –

Laura and me, Alison and Sarah P.

In the “Frog and Bucket” pub

Before they knocked it down.

Someone read one about social workers,

Then had a row with a heckler over it,

But surprisingly I found this amazing and exciting.

The writer’s group talked about poetry –

Sensible Martin; Well-read Martin

Tried to get us to analyse the whys

Of the words used by William Blake.

But I got irritated and became annoying

Because I didn’t understand the need to,

And the group split up soon afterwards.

My dear old mum wrote poetry –

Literary Kathy; Late, lamented Kathy.

She’d enter them in competitions,

Which she quite often “won” (!)

Although I always suspected

That they gave these awards to everyone

Who entered, so that they’d buy the books.

I didn’t read mum’s poetry -

Hopeful parent; Disappointed mother.

I thought that it was too flowery,

Too sentimental; Far too twee.

But the minister wanted stuff to say at her funeral,

So we lent him the books

And he read her words out.

These days I try to write poetry –

Talentless Martin; Self-conscious Martin.

Occasional posts on the five-year blog

Would slide into hopeless doggerel

Which I was usually quite ashamed of.

Yet now I exchange poetic banter online

Whilst becoming inspired and starting to “get” poetry.

Martin A W Holmes, June 2015

(Stanzas about John Begley and Dylan Thomas wisely avoided)