Tag Archives: poet

“I’m not a complete idiot!”

‘No, I’m not a complete idiot…’

is what I say,

in reply to the question,

‘Are you a complete Idiot?’

‘And then I add,

‘… I have a few bits missing; so, not a complete idiot, am I?’

Paraphrasing from Shania,

‘This doesn’t impress them much’.

Jiggery Pokery

Jiggery was a Pokery –

need I say more?

Well, usually I don’t;

but, this time,

I think that I had better.

‘Two lines make not a poem.’

As a mediocre poet recently wrote.

‘Unless it is a rhyming couplet.’

that self same poet added.

And, thus, a very short idea

is extended to give the reader

the impression

of VFM (Value For Money).

PS I don’t do impressions.

PPS Happy now?

PPPS That may be a rhetorical question.

Late Night Poetry Creation (22:20-22:33)

It’s better to write poetry

in the morning,

between 9 and 12,

rather than late at night;

but, sometimes,

a poet has to open up his rhyme box,

grab a few feet of lyrical rope,

and lasso some vague ideas together.


In the clear light of day,

it can often be seen

that the efforts were less than—

well, shall we say,


However, occasionally,

great works of particular skill

and delicacy are created.

This is not one of those.

My next poem (was going to be shorter)

My next poem

was going to be short –

or so I thought;

but, it has a mind of its own,

And wanted to roam,

here, there, and, well,


Luckily, I took the reins,

and kept it to under 12 lines.

Line 10: this poem was going to be about life, the universe, and everything you can see,

Line 11: sadly, we ran out of lines.

Not every poem written needs to be a classic

Not every poem written

needs to be a classic;

and not every word in every poem

needs fermentation to be the write word

in the write philanthropic place.

They don’t necessarily need to rhyme


A cloud about poems

Poetry is all well and good,

when all is said and done,

and where there’s muck there’s brass,,

and words don’t come easy,


Every poem has a silver lining,

and blue-sky thinking

can often provide

the basis for an airy poem.

When the sky is limiting,

and the birds fly through,

just to peck holes in your construction,

who is to say that a rhyme is a crime?

Who? said the owl of Oswestry.

It has come to my attention…

I thought that AIW would mention


It has come to my attention,


when I sit down

to try and write a poem,

I end up writing one like this one.

This also happens

when I stand up

to try and write a poem.

Maybe I shouldn’t sit down

or stand up

or write poetry.

Has this sort of thing

come to your attention?

Asking for an imaginary friend –

which, as a poet,

I do have.

My own unique voice

I write these things

as I think of them,

and they appear when they will.

Still, I wouldn’t want to be

like every other poet,

writing poetry in the traditional style

while the chance to dance

with the words is there;

care I have that I dare


to write poetry cold

unless I also write poetry hot.

So, what’s another poem to you?

I don’t do ‘real’,



It’s not for me –

it might not be be for you.

Anyway, I just say

what comes to mind,

and find that




poetry voice.

It’s your choice

as to whether you read it,

heed it,

feed it to the hungry poetry fishes,

whose wishes are

to consume words dangling

upon the lines that I lower their way,

or cast adrift

in their general direction –

a selection of which

are just like those written above;

or would you rather I wrote

a sonnet of love?

Upon this very stage …

If I died now…

this very moment…

upon this very stage…

who would finishing reading out this poem?

Would you?

Or would you try to bring me back?

Give me the kiss of life?

Return me to the task in hand?

For, I have been told, that ‘nobody’ could read my poems

the way that I do.

And once I had gone…

would they be forever silent?

NB Funny how some poems just happen. This took about two minutes and very little editing. Bit bleak; but, it’s only a collection of words in a certain order put. Graeme:)