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.
3 comments:
PS It is still me. I'll either have to repost all my old blogs or have my old account re-synched up.
S ;)
Easy like Sunday mornings. I hadn't realised so much had happened this week.
Great post.
Ash
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"
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