I
wrote "This
could be the start of a new section of Really
Bad Pomes", and
indeed it was. Where better to start than with one of my own schoolboy
efforts:
I
recklessly posted this to another Poetry Corner (link)
and it was picked up by a fellow enthusiast who wishes to feature it on his
Stupid Poetry site (link).
Recognition at last.
Added 23rd May 2003
Wordsworth is by no means the
worst of poets, but he does exemplify a lot of what I regard as bad in poetry. I
will return another day to explain this, but for now, the terrible Daffs is
going in here, largely because I have a Greg Keeler parody to go on the site and
I'm damned if I'm going to give him three spots on the Good pages before anyone
else gets three. One of the following is by Wordsworth, the other by Keeler -
see if you can spot which.
Daffodils I
wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed--and gazed--but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.
Big Yellow Flowers O.k., so I was wandering, I was lonely,
and I felt like a cloud I was so wasted when I saw
these big yellow flowers. I mean not only
were they big, there was a bazillion all
along the banks. The wind made em look like they
were dancing. I mean it was so awesome it
was hard to take it all in on the spot. No way
was I gonna remember such a buzz. But shit
man, later that night when I crashed, I thought about
em again, and I mean like it was even better.
And I wasn t even wasted. It was fuckin far out.
It s not like I remembered the whole thing to the letter,
but more like lying right there on the bed
with a wide-screen TV inside my head.
Now
back to the subject which stirred this page:
Added
23rd April 2001
Desiderata
is atrocious. I’m not entirely sure why I loathe it so much while enjoying the
Kipling. I suspect that it might be a reaction to the sort of people who hang it
on their wall as much as to the wordage. It is unctuous, patronising, prissy,
fatuous and pretentious. It also recommends an attitude towards wage slavery
which I deplore. While I cannot bring myself to put it on the main page, it
needs to be available on this site as a warning to the careless reader and
writer.
It
is complemented by a pastiche in the following Wondering Minstrels submission.
Thanks again to the minstrels (link
here), without whom building Poetry Corner would be a lot more effort.
Guest
poem submitted by Sidharth Jaggi,
Desiderata
Go placidly amid the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in
silence.
As far as possible without surrender be on good terms with all persons. Speak
your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even the dull and
ignorant; they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexations to the spirit. If you
compare yourself with others, you may become vain and bitter; for always there
will be greater and lesser persons than yourself. Enjoy yourachievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your career, however humble; it is a real possession in the
changing fortunes of time. Exercise caution in your business affairs; for the
world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals; and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself. Especially, do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love;
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is as perennial as the
grass.
Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of
youth. Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not
distress yourself with imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and
loneliness. Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have
a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe
is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be, and whatever
your labours and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with
your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.
Max Ehrmannn
Written 1927.
Copyright 1976 Robert L. Bell.
[This is the Minstrels contributor writing, not your host]
According to some reference books, Desiderata is still sometimes thought to have
been 'found' at Old St. Paul's Church in Baltimore and to date back to 1692. It
was actually written and copyrighted by Max Ehrmann (1872-1945) in 1927, the
copyright was renewed in 1948 and 1954 by Bertha K. Ehrmann. It was copyrighted
by Robert L. Bell in 1976. In 1956, the rector of St. Paul's Church in
Baltimore, Maryland, used the poem in a collection of mimeographed inspirational
material for his congregation. Someone who subsequently printed it asserted that
it was found in Old St. Paul's Church, dated 1692. The year 1692 was the
founding date of the church and has nothing to do with the poem. See Fred D.
Cavinder, "Desiderata", TWA Ambassador, Aug. 1973, pp.
14-15.
I like the Desiderata. I really really like it. Like, y'know, I dig it. I like
the tone of it - it's not overly preachy, but just full of good stuff. I like to
imagine a big daddy figure saying such things to me when I'm feeling lonely or
down. The lines are the ropes religions are made of; when people are feeling
lonely or down they like to imagine a big daddy figure saying such things to
them. It just reeks of tolerance, goodwill to humanity and the fellowship of
man. Good stuff. Which I found really strange when I first read about its
supposed provenance, in a Protestant church in the bastion of Puritanism. Come
to think of it, the Roaring Twenties are just as unlikely...
But, you know, I really really like the Desiderata.
Oh, general fact - all the people I've forced to read the above and comment on
it have, without exception, suddenly laughed / snickered / sniggered when they
came to the line
"Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexations to the spirit."
<snicker>
And, of course, when I want a change there's always...
Deteriorata
Go placidly amid the noise and waste, remembering what comfort may be found in
owning a piece thereof. Avoid quiet and passive persons unless you are in need
of sleep.
Rotate your wheels, it is what they are for.
Speak glowingly of others greater than yourself, heed well their advice even
though they be turkeys. Know what to kiss, and when.
Consider that two wrongs never make a right. However, three do.
Wherever possible put people on hold and leave for the day. Be comforted that,
in the face of all aridity and disillusionment and despite the changing fortunes
of time, there will always be a bigfuture
in computer maintenance.
Remember the Alamo. Strive at all times to bend, fold, spindle and mutilate.
Know yourself. If you do not, look in the mirror - that's you. Exercise caution
in your daily affairs, especially with those persons closest to you. That turkey
on your left for instance.
Fall not in love, it will stick to your face and smell of tuna.
Gracefully surrender the things of youth, burgers, coffee and obesity.
Hire people with hooks.
For a good time, Listen to a US foreign policy speech.
Take heart amid the deepening gloom that at least your cat is being fed well;
reflect that whatever misfortune may be your lot, at least you don't live in
Ohio.
You are a fluke of the universe: you have no right to be here. Whether or not
you can hear it, the Universe is laughing behind your back.
Therefore make your peace with God, whether you consider him to be clown or
President of the disUnited States.
With all its hopes, dreams and McDonalds, the world will continue to
deteriorate.
-- National Lampoon
One of the above two hangs on my bedroom wall - you have three guesses as to
which one :)
Sidharth.
Now back to your
host again.
It might be time to resurrect
the Magnum Opus of my youth, the ….Party. The internet is the perfect vehicle
for its nourishment and growth.... I
did.
Added
9th May 2001
To a Mouse,
on Turning Her Up in Her Nest, With The Plough
Wee, sleekit, cowrin', tim'rous beastie,
O, what a panic's in thy breastie!
Thou need na start awa sae hasty,
Wi' bickering brattle!
I wad be laith to rin an' chase thee,
Wi' murd'ring pattle!
I'm truly sorry man's dominion,
Has broken Nature's social union,
An' justifies that ill opinion,
Which makes thee startle
At me, thy poor, earth-born companion,
An' fellow-mortal!
I doubt na, whiles, but thou may thieve;
What then? poor beastie, thou maun live!
A daimen icker in a thrave
'S a sma' request;
I'll get blessin wi' the lave,
An' never miss't!
Thy wee bit housie, too, in ruin!
It's silly wa's the win's are strewin!
An' naething, now, to big a new ane,
O' foggage green!
An' bleak December's winds ensuin,
Baith snell an' keen!
Thou saw the fields laid bare an' waste,
An' weary winter comin fast,
An' cozie here, beneath the blast,
Thou thought to dwell ---
Till crash ! the cruel coulter past
Out thro' thy cell.
That wee bit heap o' leaves an' stibble,
Has cost thee monie a weary nibble!
Now thou's turn'd out, for a' thy trouble,
But house or hald,
To thole the winter's sleety dribble,
An' cranreuch cauld !
But Mousie, thou art no thy lane,
In proving foresight may be vain;
The best-laid schemes o' mice an' men
Gang aft agley,
An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain,
For promis'd joy !
Still thou art blest, compar'd wi' me!
The present only toucheth thee:
But och! I backward cast my e'e,
On prospects drear!
An' forward, tho' I canna see,
I guess an' fear!
