Poetry
Posted By Judith on 18th June 2018
A few months ago I touched briefly on the subject of ‘Art’ and how it can be very subjective. I’m sure we’ve all heard the expression “I don’t know anything about art, but I know what I like”. Well to some degree the same can be said about poetry.
Personally I like amusing monologues such as those penned by the Scottish writer Marriott Edgar (1880-1951) and made famous by Stanley Holloway.
I’m sure you’re familiar with the one about ‘Albert and the Lion’ but perhaps you won’t be as familiar with two more of my favourites ‘The Battle of Hastings’ and Three-Halfpence-a-Foot, (FYI ‘Long-bacon’ is a northern expression for ‘cocking a snook’) All 3 are best enjoyed if you read them with a Lancashire twang.
I’m sure any poetry purists among you are tutting and raising your eyes to the ceiling by now, well you’ll be raising them a bit further in a moment, because I also like the work of the late Jake Thackray.
After all a song is really only a poem set to music and some of his lyrics are exceptionally funny in a dark sort of way and his guitar technique was pretty special too, though some of his later TV appearances, when he branched out into ‘presenting’, were toe curlingly bad.
All that being said I come to the point of this piece, Peter writes poetry from time to time.
I’m not talking about the ‘spoon’, ‘moon’, ‘tune’, ‘June’ variety, he writes about current events. (For the benefit of younger readers the word ‘spoon’ when used as a verb can mean ‘to show affection by kissing or caressing, especially in an openly sentimental manner’.)
Take this for example which he wrote back in 2009 when Lord Peter Mandelson was attacked by a protester with green custard!
was struck on the dial by a salvo of custard.
The great man, far-sightedly wearing a scarf
had reduced the potential for damage by half,
and thus he remained of sang-froid and unflustered.
The chance of attacking a minister’s slender
if police are on hand to repel the offender
but since Mandy’s minders have long been forgot
our hero was there; his detectives were not
so she wanged him the custard and strolled off the plot.
He was taken aback as the miscreant lunged
but his suit, sharply-cut from the finest of worsted
had repelled almost all of the malcontent’s custard
so despite having been comprehensively gunged
he returned tout de suite with the custard expunged.
The chucker escaped with apparent impunity
but doesn’t hold undiplomatic immunity.
So let’s hope that soon she is brought into custody
where doubtless she’ll claim the missile was just custardy.
But what if some weapon of mass destruction had
been furtively mixed with this culinary emulsion?
Though seemingly just a green-tinted comestible
it’s damaging effects might have been inestimable.
Not bad eh? Well it makes me laugh.
There’s no doubt that all our lives have been enhanced over the years by beautiful works of art, magnificent poetry, uplifting music or powerful prose all of which have the ability to stir us to the point of tears. ( Not that I’m suggesting any of the above will do that.)
Sadly I can’t write poetry or produce beautiful works of art, and my guitar playing days are over due to a dodgy wrist, but I can look after the garden and write about every day ‘stuff’.
After all nature is a wonderful and beautiful thing (geraniums)
and without every day ‘stuff’ we’d only have the weather to complain about!
