Thursday, 25 June 2015

Poem-a-day Parts One-Five

'Day' 1: About a week ago, William nominated me for the poem-a-day challenge. I would like in turn to nominate Thomas Cromwell. My first poem is from the Unsentimental School of Verse and is called 'The Flower'. It's not a good poem, but then, why should it be? No bloody flower's ever written a poem about me. I may do these in quick succession. Perhaps I should have written another poem about cats.
The Flower
It’s not my normal subject matter,
the flower. Usually, I’d shy
away from trying to scratch some lines
on such a thing: it holds no interest
for me at all. A flower’s just
a flower. Don’t misunderstand me:
I like their colours in the spring
and summer months, but mainly, when
they’re there, I do not notice them;
I do not miss them when they’re gone.

'Day' 2: Well, I'm now on day 2 of the poem-a-day challenge. I would like to nominate Judas Iscariot as the next poet. In the meantime, here's a woefully short permutational prose poem called 'Leftover Soup'.
Leftover Soup
I remain indifferent to your indifference. It leads us all to a better understanding of tintinnabulations. Let me show you how to order pizza using carrier pigeon. The last to arrive always spoils the party.
I remain indifferent to your Empire-building obsession. It leads us all into not-quite-blind-but-certainly-short-sighted-alleys. Let me show you the shortcut which will get you even more lost. The last instruction made about as much sense as a dolphin speaking Polish* (*like normal dolphin, but without the vowel sounds, capiche?).
I remain indifferent to your political opinions. They lead us all to conclude conclusively about your lack of sanity. Let me show you with this diagram. The last figure, although it looks rabbit-shaped, is, in fact, a hare (a hare Krishna).

'Day' 3: I made it as far as day 3 of the poem-a-day challenge. I now nominate any passing clouds who wish to identify as poets. The third poem looks like a stylistic mash-up of the first two inadequate poems (mainly iambic tetrameter meets repetition), but that's just coincidental. It's called: 'I Ran Out of Words for the Final Stanza (But At Least I Kept the Meter Going)'.
I Ran Out of Words for the Final Stanza
(But At Least I Kept the Meter Going)
You said you had no need of friendship –
until those big boys came along,
then you were all, like, ‘Save me, save me!’
It really was pathetic.
You said that things are never real –
until they repossessed your house,
and you were all, like, ‘That’s my house!’
You’re such a hypocrite.
You said that arguments were futile –
until you won one (quite by chance)
and you were all, like, ‘Ar-Gu-MENT!’
That way you turn the charm on.
Blah BLAH Blah BLAH blah BLAH blah BLAH blah –
Blah BLAH Blah BLAH blah BLAH blah BLAH,
BLAH blah blah BLAH Blah BLAH Blah BLAH.
Blah BLAH blah BLAH blah BLAH blah

'Day' 4: The penultimate day of the poem-a-day challenge. I neck-nominate Ronald McDonald for the Poetry Ice Bucket Challenge. As for the poem, it's a thing called 'je suis dystopia' and does not do justice to the title. As for the way it just stops. I mean, really. Is this the best I can do?
je suis dystopia
dystopia
has eight facebook friends
war
famine
pestilence
death
and their horses
psycho
nutjob
mad frank
fluffy
dystopia
status update
armageddon it
four people like this
four horses like this
dystopia
has created an event
apocalypse
7 billion people are going
ask dystopia
for a music recommendation

'Day' 5: Well, I made it: the poem-a-day challenge in less than an hour. For my final nomination, I would like to nominate Switzerland. For the last poem, and I use the term incorrectly, I have written a haiku. It may be the wrong season, but at least it mentions a season (in the title). Also, in Japanese, they don't have to have 17 syllables and are written on one line, so just what we think we're doing when we're writing haikus is anybody's bloody guess ('being lazy' is mine). It's called 'The First Haiku of Spring' and it goes like this:
The First Haiku of Spring
cuck-oo, cuck-oo, cuck-
oo, cuck-oo, cuck-oo, cuck-oo,
cuck-oo, cuck-oo, cuck.

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