Sunday, 17 March 2013


Good morning readers.

In what has been an exciting week both in and out of the news, I found myself almost falling over potential subjects for today’s blog. Firstly, the astute of you may have noticed I’m posting on a Sunday. I’d like to add my name to the list of people welcoming Colin to his Monday blog spot- I’m sure he’ll enjoy it over the coming months.

On a personal note, I’ve been greatly entertained by the TV news coverage over the last seven days. We’ve had a former government minister in court, the big announcement from the Vatican and the confirmation of Higgs to name just three stories to gee us up in Cheltenham week. And if you didn’t back a winner at the races, don’t worry, all losing steeds will be recycled. I have it on bad local authority that several French horses will take lead roles in school lunch events- mainly the eating ones.

What does this all have to do with bad poetry then? I would say that bad poetry, just like that second placed horse, doesn’t have to leave a bad taste in your mouth. We are all compelled to pick up a pen from time to time. As poets we revisit these, rework them and inevitably leave some on one side but, with enough chewing, there is often some fairly tasty burger to get your teeth into. I believe in bad poetry. I believe without it, we’d not have the good.

Learning from our mistakes, it all comes down to. Sometimes, it is a fair cop and you’ll just have to ride it out, head high and with the knowledge that next time you’ve got the upper hand. You’ll deliver that poem that finally gets recognition against the rude and the crude. You’ll hit that serious line home to someone. You’ll stop having to make jokes to prove yourself…

I’m keeping the faith. Until then, a bad poem.

God bless the higher powers

When we have white smoke
Will they elect a decent bloke
Will he ride a motorbike,
Keep a mohawk, fish for pike
Is he me or is he you
Will he know just what to do?

Will he take a modern name
Will he leave things just the same
Can he understand the truths
These challenges face muslims, jews
Will he be both friend and foe
As a new power, we don't know.

But when we have white smoke
I just hope he can revoke
The damage done, stem the decay
His ancient faith in dissaray
The allegations hanging over
Can this baptist move the boulder?

For there is trouble in the city
Gold and greed seldom feel pity
TV pictures, constant streaming
Naughty nuns on hooch are screaming
Seems seldom time to make a joke
Amidst the hype, there's been a vote.

Yes, we have white smoke
A new looking, Latin Pope
Rides not bikes it seems but buses
Pays his own bills, avoids fusses
Sure, this Pope still chants in Latin,
But he has his turf to flatten
Stepping up to take the mantle

Pray this man leads by example.




Shaun said...

PS It is still me. I'll either have to repost all my old blogs or have my old account re-synched up.

S ;)

Anonymous said...

Easy like Sunday mornings. I hadn't realised so much had happened this week.

Great post.


Colin Davies said...

Thanks for the welcome Shaun, and everyone come to think of it. I do like your observation that you can't have the good with out the bad.

Though yet again, we do not have a bad poem here. Hmm, may there's a reason it's called the "Dead Good Blog"