Tag Archives: bad poetry

The Meaning of Life in 42 Words

Derrick challenged me to write a post on the meaning of life in 42 words. In accepting his challenge I have added a new level of difficulty and done it in the style of the well-known poet Paula Nancy Millstone Jennings, reputedly the worst poet in the Universe. I have to say, in her defence, that I’m not sure this fair, but the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy was written before internet poetry blogs caught on. Anyway, read my homage before judging who is worse.

A big introduction and . . .
nothing.

A bit like retirement
or clicking the link to see
what the man found in his back garden

At the end,
the bucket list, a dolphin and a dead swan.

On the list
Item number forty two . . . 

Yes, that does it.  Could be better, could be worse.  Anyone else fancy a go?

Sunset, Notts

Bee on Red Valerian

Day 149

I’ve just been reading a selection of depressing poems. The theme for the issue (a concept that is deeply depressing even before you read the poems) was current events – war in the Ukraine and Global Warming. It’s difficult to treat either of these subjects with the spirit of karumi that is often cited as a guiding principle of writing haiku. It can be summed up, I believe, as “lightness of touch”. Banging on about children being bombed or world hunger is not karumi. It’s not necessarily interesting either. And although a poem by Wilfred Owen is a thing of horror and beauty, a poem about a poem by Wilfred Owen is not.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m definitely and unequivocally against genocide, nuclear winter and the end of the world. But I’m also against bad poetry.

I’ve written plenty of it, but I generally resist the temptation to let it out into the world. Sometimes it does get out, and sometimes it even gets published. This happened with a haibun a few months ago. I tried a new, more modern style (hoping to curry favour with the type of editor who wants to be “excited” by haibun) and it was duly published. It was dreadful. I was ashamed of myself, and it will not be featuring in my collected works.

We went to the garden centre today. It’s a local one that started during lockdown. One of the market stalls in town owns it. It’s quite broken down and old-fashioned, and it’s where they used  to raise the plants they sold on the market.When business dropped off due to Covid they finished on the market and launched as a garden centre. It’s a refreshing change from  the average modern garden centre, which is more of a gift shop than anything else. Julia went shopping while I sat in the car and watched the wildflower meadow. Very restful.

 

Haiku, clerihu and an idle moment

I’ve successfully procrastinated the morning away since dropping Julia at work. I blogged, I slept, I composed twelve haiku on modern subjects, I reflected on Clerihews and their superiority to haiku and I replied to a few comments. I even read one post from someone else. It was fascinating, though it didn’t seem promising at first. Try Repro Arts of Great Yarmouth. It’s a print shop, but one that has made at least one fascinating blog post. I say “at least” because I have not yet read any of the others. They may all be fascinating, but in line with my theme for the morning, I’m going to read the rest later.

I recently invented a new poetic form – the haiklerihew. So far the world’s stock of haiklerihews is one. It’s probably all we need. I’m thinking I might have a crack at the clerihu next, though amalgamating a four line humorous poem nobody values with a three line nature poem that people are very serious about could take some doing.

 

from ancient Japan we have Basho

who never has gone out of fashion

deep in the woodlands

a nature cliche gestates

serious poem

 

I’ve amalgamated the first two lines of the clerihew, with the name, then added a haiku underneath. Clerihews, for those of you who have missed previous efforts, are allowed to be bad in terms of rhyme and scansion. I think I have achieved that here.

The haiku is a bit unkind, but some of them are a bit cliched in terms of the nature reference – I know mine are. I’ve used the 5-7-5 syllable format which is now seen as a bit old-fashioned – that way you can tell it’s a haiku. I had to change woods to woodlands to get the five in the first line, which is in the bad poetry tradition of the Clerihew.

All in all, a satisfactory poetic form, and much better than the haiklerihew.

I’m now going to brace myself for death threats from haiku poets.

Writers of Clerihews are much more laid back.

A Day for Clerihews

The Clerihew, according to Wikipedia, is a four line biographical poem invented by Edmund Clerihew Bentley, with a rhyme scheme of aabb. The lines are irregular, though the first line should feature the name of the person who is the subject of the poem.  Bentley believed that the name should be at the end of the line as part of the challenge lay in finding a rhyme for awkward names. It can be whimsical, absurd and inaccurate.

In other words, they aren’t very demanding in terms of technique and historical research.

Here are three that I’ve written as part of a series about British Prime Ministers. Don’t rely on them if you are revising for an exam on the subject. I’ve covered PMs in other posts, but as there have been around 57 of them I still have a way to go.

I will try a few more over Christmas as I will have (a) time and (b) an unpleasantly crotchety attitude, which are both useful for political subjects.

 

 

Robert Walpole, 1st Earl of Orford,

was known to be fond of his orchard.

He was in power for 20 years.

And he raised gin tax, causing many tears.

 

Augustus Henry FitzRoy, 3rd Duke of Grafton

never wore a kaftan.

As a Chathamite Whig

he was a bit of a prig.

 

 

PM Stanley Baldwin

had a disagreement with the King.

A man of stately carriage,

he opposed King Edward’s marriage.