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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: Donuel Date: 10 Jan 21 - 01:57 PM I would argue he was a lyricist first. A poetic turn of phrase was more rare but powerfully and organicly engaging. |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: Stilly River Sage Date: 10 Jan 21 - 01:50 PM Mudcat has it's own worst poet, who shall remain unnamed and unlinked. (Someone has to hold up Amos' end of this discussion, now that he's no longer here to do it himself. And Amos was a mighty fine poet!) |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: Donuel Date: 10 Jan 21 - 12:00 PM Many Americans have no idea there are actually four official verses to the "Star-Spangled Banner" — and even fewer know about a little-known, unofficial fifth verse, written a half century later by poet Oliver Wendell Holmes. It goes like this: When our land is illum'd with Liberty's smile, If a foe from within strike a blow at her glory, Down, down, with the traitor that dares to defile The flag of her stars and the page of her story! By the millions unchain'd who our birthright have gained We will keep her bright blazon forever unstained! And the Star-Spangled Banner in triumph shall wave While the land of the free is the home of the brave. |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: Amergin Date: 08 Jan 21 - 05:50 PM If you want trite bullshit that is inexplicably popular, you need look no further than Rupi Kaur. "to hate is an easy lazy thing but to love takes strength everyone has but not all are willing to practice" or "take the compliment do not shy away from another thing that belongs to you" or "i do not need the kind of love that is draining i want some one that energizes me" And yet these are somehow counted among her best poems. |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: Manitas_at_home Date: 08 Jan 21 - 05:56 AM Ah, I find that John Kirkpatrick has recorded it and credits Betjeman and Parker. |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: weerover Date: 08 Jan 21 - 05:00 AM In the 70s a competition for "World's Worst Poet" was won by (a Paisley man, IIRC) Walter McCorrisken. His work owes something to McGonagall, but is distinctively a style of his own. I am sure plenty of his oeuvre will be available online. I remember reading somewhere that John Betjeman was not allowed to visit the home of a schoolmate during the holidays because his family were "in trade". Said schoolmate (Hugh Gaitskell) later became leader of the Labour Party! |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: Jos Date: 08 Jan 21 - 04:42 AM Here's the blicky - it contains a link to a few snippets from the record. https://www.theguardian.com/music/musicblog/2013/feb/15/sir-john-betjeman-banana-blush |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: Jos Date: 08 Jan 21 - 04:26 AM It's "A Shropshire Lad" from Betjeman's "Banana Blush", an album made by Betjeman in 1974 in collaboration with composer Jim Parker. https://www.theguardian.com/music/musicblog/2013/feb/15/sir-john-betjeman-banana-blush |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: Manitas_at_home Date: 08 Jan 21 - 01:24 AM Was it Pete Coe that put that to music? |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: FreddyHeadey Date: 07 Jan 21 - 06:25 PM Oh I always love Betjeman's dripping and still he rose over the sill and faded away in a wall & Rigid and dead— Rigid and dead— To the Saturday congregation, Paying a call at Dawley bank on his way to his 'destination'. Well maybe they are lightweight or trite. At least they usually elicit an amused raised eyebrow or two. |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: FreddyHeadey Date: 07 Jan 21 - 06:09 PM I love Donuel's When our faithful bundle departs this earthly world of strife, we'll get yet another pup, and love him all his life. - Author Unknown and looking at http://dogsympathycards.blogspot.com/p/dog-poems-and-quotes.html I can see that pets can turn everyone into a poet. Here's another The love that you showed us we'll never forget because to us you're one very special pet. You're like a star in the dark of night, always watching over us with the Lord's light. So now we take time to remember our best friend who will always be with us, even to the end. We'll always remember you the way you were, one big lovable huggable pile of fur. - Umbrellas, it seems, can make poets of us too. I refuse to quote or name names for fear of people goo-ego-gling themselves but take a look at https://hellopoetry.com/words/umbrellas/ No big names there to put forward as a candidate though. _________________ [ goo-ego-gling ? gooegoling ? is that not a word or is it spelt differently ? is 'themselves' tortology ? ] |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: Jos Date: 06 Jan 21 - 11:10 AM Sadly I no longer have the author's original submission before it was 'tidied up' for her. |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: Steve Shaw Date: 06 Jan 21 - 10:00 AM Ye gods! :-) But "frothy?" I should call a physician if I were her! |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: Jos Date: 06 Jan 21 - 08:28 AM Here's my contribution. From Great Ways to Learn Anatomy and Physiology by Charmaine McKissock (Palgrave Macmillan, 2009), a poem to “help you remember the function of the kidneys”: The Song of the Kidney Kids Let’s sing of the Kidney Kids, Kevin and Kate, Who both do a job anybody would hate. They collect up used blood both by night and by day, Which they filter to take the waste products away. Salts, drugs, uric acid, creatine and urea Are removed with some water to leave the blood clear. Then the toxic substance into urine is made, As frothy and yellow as fresh lemonade. This is poured through ureters – there are two of those – Into the bladder and out through a hose That is called the urethra. Your blood is now clean: No one would ever know where it had been. |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: Steve Shaw Date: 06 Jan 21 - 07:45 AM The Oxford Dictionary of National Biography declared it to be the world's worst poem, Jos, finally outdoing the Tay Bridge Disaster... |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: Jos Date: 06 Jan 21 - 07:36 AM That is certainly the 'worst poem' winner so far (my opinion, of course). |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: Steve Shaw Date: 06 Jan 21 - 07:25 AM Beat this for bad poetry! A Tragedy by Theophile Marzials Death! Plop. The barges down in the river flop. Flop, plop, Above, beneath. From the slimy branches the grey drips drop... To the oozy waters, that lounge and flop... And my head shrieks - "Stop" And my heart shrieks - "Die."... Ugh! yet I knew - I knew If a woman is false can a friend by true? It was only a lie from beginning to end-- My Devil - My "friend."... So what do I care, And my head is empty as air - I can do, I can dare (Plop, plop The barges flop Drip, drop.) I can dare, I can dare! And let myself all run away with my head And stop. Drop Dead. Plop, flop, Plop. |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: Steve Shaw Date: 05 Jan 21 - 08:52 PM A cracker from the early 19th century: The Potato" by Eliza Cook (1818-1839) The useful and the beautiful Are not far apart we know. And thus the beautiful are glad to have, The homely looking Potato. On the land, or on the sea, Wherever we may go, We are always glad to welcome The homely Potato. A practical and moral lesson This may plainly show, That though homely, our heart can be Like that of the homely Potato. I mean, give over! :-) |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: Steve Shaw Date: 04 Jan 21 - 08:17 PM :-) |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: Jeri Date: 04 Jan 21 - 08:08 PM Hypochondriacs Spend the winter at the bottom of Florida and the summer on top of the Adirondacks. You go to Paris and live on champagne wine and cognac If you're a dipsomognac. If you're a manic-depressive You don't go anywhere where you won't be cheered up, and people say "There, there!" If your bills are excessive. But you stick around and work day and night and night and day with your nose to the sawmill If you're nawmill. Ogden Nash. (seriously, who else?) |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: Steve Shaw Date: 04 Jan 21 - 06:47 PM I eat my peas with honey I've done it all my life It makes the peas taste funny But it keeps them on the knife |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: Dave the Gnome Date: 04 Jan 21 - 05:33 PM As I was walking doon the road I saw a coo, a bull b'goad! |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: Steve Shaw Date: 04 Jan 21 - 04:45 PM Another beauty: The umbrella, by Bruce Goodman I wish to tell you about my favourite thing, With a hey-nonny-no, It’s about my umbrella I wish to sing Hey ding a ding, ding. I stick my umbrella up a lot With a hey-nonny-no, Whether it’s raining or not Hey ding a ding, ding. The other day it hosed down With a hey-nonny-no, Just as I was leaving to go to town Hey ding a ding, ding. Suddenly a gust of wind blew it inside out. I started to twist and shout. What the hell is this all about? I was getting wet. No doubt. I hope I don’t get gout. Hey ding a ding, ding. My love for my umbrella was just recently awoken. Now it’s broken And I’m soakin’. |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: Bonzo3legs Date: 04 Jan 21 - 04:28 PM Like the shock of handling a raw sausage blindfold at a gay party!!! |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: Steve Shaw Date: 04 Jan 21 - 03:45 PM Here's a beaut from Ern Malley; Where I have lived The bed-bug sleeps in the seam, the cockroach Inhabits the crack and the careful spider Spins his aphorisms in the corner. . . . There is a moment when the pelvis Explodes like a grenade Bwahahaha! |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: The Sandman Date: 04 Jan 21 - 02:14 PM so now we have Wav, why could we not stick to mcgonagall, julia a moore a mckittrick ros |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: Donuel Date: 04 Jan 21 - 02:09 PM David I agree a poem can tell a complex story like of Mice and Men in an abbreviated language but thats why prose is best. A miniature is nice and precise but a grand size feels alive. |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: WalkaboutsVerse Date: 04 Jan 21 - 12:47 PM As in my poem "Audience Lost", free verse "poetry" in general, which adds up to a lot of poetry since Ezra Pound and co decided something like - to hell with metre and rhyme. As with American pop, rock, (c)rap, silk stockings, taking a knee for ALL/Black Lives Matter, etc., too many English and other nationals around the world have blindly followed...but, to end on a positive note, I sense, just recently, that trad metre and rhyme is making something of a comeback (whatever you may think of the WalkaboutsVerse variety). |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: Backwoodsman Date: 04 Jan 21 - 12:20 PM LOL! :-) :-) |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: Steve Shaw Date: 04 Jan 21 - 12:15 PM Point taken. From a website on bad poetry: Rhyming is easy When you know how But this poem is cheesy So it’s time to say ciao :-) |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: Steve Shaw Date: 04 Jan 21 - 11:54 AM Well, Jeri, you might have thought that a thread starting "worst poets" would end up being a bit of light-hearted whimsy. After all, there's plenty of scope. Instead, one person here has sabotaged it, via posturing as an ill-tempered and fairly rude control freak, and it happens to be the thread's originator. Please target your criticisms of us slightly more accurately. From a poem called The Thorn: "...You see a little muddy pond Of water, never dry; I've measured it from side to side: 'Tis three feet long, and two feet wide." That was written by William Wordsworth. No, really... |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: Jeri Date: 04 Jan 21 - 11:09 AM You have a choice to either discuss "worst poets" or go after each other, which seems to be a popular variety of blood-sport on Mudcat. The latter will get posts deleted and the thread closed. And "worst" is based on opinion. Period. |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: Raggytash Date: 04 Jan 21 - 09:22 AM The title of the thread is "worst poets" Now one persons worst poet may be another persons favourite poet. The opening post states that the poster has three candidates, not that they are the worst but that they are merely candidates, thus the thread should not be limited to those three alone. So crack on lads and lassies and discuss whom you choose to. One a personal note I would not criticise any poet, some I like, some I don't but more than anything I no time for critics. |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: Manitas_at_home Date: 04 Jan 21 - 08:43 AM What do you want me to understand? You started discussing Betjeman's background I merely pointed out that you had it, or a least part of it, wrong as you have agreed. It would make your posts a lot easier to understand if you would only use some capitals and a bit more punctuation. |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: The Sandman Date: 04 Jan 21 - 08:19 AM i am not being a stickler over spelling. Betjeman was born John Betjemann. He was the son of a prosperous silverware maker of Dutch descent. His parents, Mabel (née Dawson) and Ernest Betjemann, had a family firm at 34–42 Pentonville Road which manufactured the kind of ornamental household furniture and gadgets distinctive to Victorians. he went to fee paying schools, he was upper middle class and establishment, he wrote nothing that challenged the status quo, miss joan hunter dunn is an example of glorifying the upper and middle classes. ok, manitas, do you understand. tyis thread is not about betjeman coppin shakespeare wordsworth. john clare if you want to talk about them, do it somewhere else far from rescuing this thread steve you have sabotaged it. sitting on a loo in camden town joan hunter dunn with her knickers down hark the bell strikes ten past three has my crumpet done its pee |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: Senoufou Date: 04 Jan 21 - 05:34 AM Could I just point out, The Sandman, since you are being a bit of a stickler, that you have misspelt one of your 'bad poets' names. It's William McGonagall, not mcgonagle. |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: Steve Shaw Date: 04 Jan 21 - 04:22 AM Poor Dick... |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: Bonzo3legs Date: 04 Jan 21 - 04:09 AM I am working today, so better things to do!!!!! |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: Manitas_at_home Date: 04 Jan 21 - 03:54 AM Betjeman was far from upper-class. Upper middle at best. |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: The Sandman Date: 04 Jan 21 - 02:47 AM bonzo has not heard of mcgonagle ,well bonzo start your own thread on johnny coppin. if people here think it is funny to feck up a thread deliberately with irrelevancies that just shows the level of their childishness, if it is accidental ,perhaps you should read the original posts more carefully. bonzo , the fact you have not heard of those bad poets is irrelevantwhy post other than as a wind up |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: The Sandman Date: 04 Jan 21 - 02:26 AM john betjeman was a product and a representive of the upper class. he was an establishment poet who glorified aspects of the british empire he was uncritical of the class sytem or the empire. in a subtle way betjeman glorifies the english upperclass and their tennis matches and miss jopan hunter dunn, all jolly hockey sticks jolly good chaps etc. jos, all you have to do is read the title of the post and the original thread, if you want to discuss other things start your own thread ,same applies to steve shaw. Subject: BS: worst poets From: The Sandman - PM Date: 02 Jan 21 - 05:44 PM i have 3 candidates, mcgonagle, julia a moore and a mckittrick ros, if people would like to select poems so we can decide who is the worst of the 3. |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: Steve Shaw Date: 03 Jan 21 - 08:32 PM You beat me to it, Bill... |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: Bill D Date: 03 Jan 21 - 07:25 PM Oh... genuine doggerel.. |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: Steve Shaw Date: 03 Jan 21 - 06:11 PM My doggy pees On all the trees And poops on all the flowers. He does no tricks Like fetching sticks, Just licks himself for hours. :-) |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: Bonzo3legs Date: 03 Jan 21 - 06:03 PM Never heard of these 3 poets. Viv Stanshall was a clever poet!! |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: Steve Shaw Date: 03 Jan 21 - 05:33 PM We can take it wherever we like, Jos. And I'd just like to say that one man's trite and lightweight is another man's life-affirming and lyrical. And that your last post, Dick, is misanthropic in the extreme. |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: Donuel Date: 03 Jan 21 - 05:20 PM Ohmywhatafauxpas!!! Only3thatwemaytalk? |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: Donuel Date: 03 Jan 21 - 05:12 PM The canine ways will gladden you, His antics bring a smile, As a faithful friend he will, Be loyal all the while. He'll bring his charms to grace your life, And though his stay is brief, When he's gone the memories, Are solace for our grief. I cannot promise he will stay, All on earth won't return, But lessons only a dog can teach, I want you each to learn. I've looked the whole world over, In search of guardians true, And from the folk that crowd life's land, I have chosen you. Whatever love you give to him, Returns in triple measure, Follow his lead and gain a life, Brim full of simple pleasures. Enjoy each day as it comes, Allow your heart to guide, Be loyal and steadfast in love, As the dog there by your side. Now will you give him all your love, Nor think the labor vain, Nor hate me when all is done, To see him go again? I guess each of us would say, A glad heaart is not all they have For all the joys this dog shall bring, The risk of grief can stun. We'll shelter him with tenderness, We'll love him while we may, And for the happiness we've known, over the grateful days. But should the angels call for him, Much sooner than we've planned, We'll brave the bitter grief that comes, And try to understand. If by our love we've managed, to make his life a joy, In memory of him that we have loved, And to help us while we grieve; When our faithful friend departs, This earthly world of strife, We'll just get another pup, And love him all his life. |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: Jos Date: 03 Jan 21 - 05:04 PM I am so sorry, Sandman, I didn't realise we were restricted to your three chosen poets and not allowed to discuss the merits or otherwise of any other poets we might be more familiar with. I'll leave you to it. |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: Jos Date: 03 Jan 21 - 04:56 PM Well here is a poem by Betjeman with no class, no empire, no tennis, no sex, nothing that I, at least, find trite. Winter Seascape The sea runs back against itself With scarcely time for breaking wave To cannonade a slatey shelf And thunder under in a cave Before the next can fully burst. The headwind, blowing harder still, Smooths it to what it was at first — A slowly rolling water-hill. Against the breeze the breakers haste, Against the tide their ridges run And all the sea's a dappled waste Criss-crossing underneath the sun. Far down the beach the ripples drag Blown backward, rearing from the shore, And wailing gull and shrieking shag Alone can pierce the ocean roar. Unheard, a mongrel hound gives tongue, Unheard are shouts of little boys: What chance has any inland lung Against this multi-water noise? Here where the cliffs alone prevail I stand exultant, neutral, free, And from the cushion of the gale Behold a huge consoling sea. |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: The Sandman Date: 03 Jan 21 - 04:50 PM this thread is about three particular bad poets, if you want to talk about betjeman or johhny coppin , start your own thread. betjeman was at worst mediocre, but not spectacularly bad, like mcgonagle or julia a clarke. |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: The Sandman Date: 03 Jan 21 - 04:39 PM now this is what i call a powerful poem ThomasHardy Christmas: 1924 'Peace upon earth!' was said. We sing it, And pay a million priests to bring it. After two thousand years of mass We've got as far as poison-gas. yes Steve, i am sorry to offend you find you, but i find Betjeman, light weight, i find the rhymes in the poem in question predictable,, i suppose it describes an upper class situation and tennis match accurately, all is well in the empire, the sun never sets and there are no unemplyed nasty working class miners going on strike in the vicinity of miss hunter dunn betjemans rhymes are predictable and he has so little to say[imo] ,other than how polite, we jolly good chaps all are, betjeman appears to like to fantasise about women as objects, imo this poem of betjemans is a bit like a voyeur or peeping tom, this next poem of his sums him up an upper middle class snob Here from my eyrie, as the sun went down, I heard the old North London puff and shunt, Glad that I did not live in Gospel Oak. here is a quote about him from wiki After university Betjeman left Oxford without a degree. Whilst there, however, he had made the acquaintance of people who would later influence his work, including Louis MacNeice and W. H. Auden.[10] He worked briefly as a private secretary, school teacher and film critic for the Evening Standard, where he also wrote for their high-society gossip column, the Londoner's Diary. He was employed by the Architectural Review between 1930 and 1935, as a full-time assistant editor, following their publishing of some of his freelance work. Timothy Mowl (2000) says, "His years at the Architectural Review were to be his true university".[2] At this time, while his prose style matured, he joined the MARS Group, an organisation of young modernist architects and architectural critics in Britain. Betjeman's sexuality can best be described as bisexual, and his longest and best documented relationships were with women, and a fairer analysis of his sexuality may be that he was "the hatcher of a lifetime of schoolboy crushes – both gay and straight", most of which progressed no further.[11] Nevertheless, he has been considered "temperamentally gay", and even became a penpal of Lord Alfred 'Bosie' Douglas of Oscar Wilde fame.[ The poem you quoted is like a schoolboy crush, immature and lightweight |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: Steve Shaw Date: 03 Jan 21 - 03:53 PM John Betjeman is buried in a tiny and lovely little churchyard fairly close to where we live, at St Enodoc's church near Daymer Bay in north Cornwall, near where he lived. The church has a rather crooked steeple, and was once buried in blown sand. We park up at Daymer Bay car park, then walk over what must be one of our most picturesque golf courses (never played golf in my life and never will, but hey), passing the church, paying homage of course, seeing the views over the Camel estuary and ending up at the sea front at Rock. We then take the foot ferry over to Padstow, where we buy a pasty at the finest pasty shop in Cornwall, Chough Bakery, and a mug of tea at the nearby kiosk. We then have to stave off the hungry gulls as we scoff the pasties. Then it's back on the ferry, and a lovely stroll back on the beach from Rock back to Daymer Bay (you have to be somewhat canny to get the tide times right). A poetic day out, not too strenuous. |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: Bonzo3legs Date: 03 Jan 21 - 03:51 PM Leonard Clark's "Song for Loaders" put to music by Johnny Coppin! Now this is poetry!!! |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: Backwoodsman Date: 03 Jan 21 - 03:49 PM Excellent poem, Steve. |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: Steve Shaw Date: 03 Jan 21 - 03:36 PM I try to stick with you most of the time, Dick, but I must say that if you find that "trite," then you sound like a bloke with no soul... Here's one that was written over a decade ago by children's author and socialist Michael Rosen for the 60th anniversary of the NHS. I first read it in my trade union magazine last May, when I had to spend a night in hospital, looked after wonderfully by fearful nurses and doctors after their first two months of hell: These are the hands, by Michael Rosen These are the hands That touch us first Feel your head Find the pulse And make your bed. These are the hands That tap your back Test the skin Hold your arm Wheel the bin Change the bulb Fix the drip Pour the jug Replace your hip. These are the hands That fill the bath Mop the floor Flick the switch Soothe the sore Burn the swabs Give us a jab Throw out sharps Design the lab. And these are the hands That stop the leaks Empty the pan Wipe the pipes Carry the can Clamp the veins Make the cast Log the dose And touch us last. |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: Donuel Date: 03 Jan 21 - 03:31 PM Old man Potter wanted to eat the tiny Baily Savings and Loan Old man Walgreen devoured Rexall and Rite Aid it's told Old man Sam ate Mom's and Pop's by the truckload Now Wall mart-green will dispense vaccine that got too warm and is way too old. There's another hunger of the poor and cold They've been down so long they wish death on everyone Armageddonist vs anti armeggeddonist is the civil war to come Race wars and Face wars have police on the run Amid disease some forgot to have fun I didn't notice the poet write his very last one. Or the homeless eat the last palm oil nutrition free crumb. The wealthy have their secret supply and can luxuriate in the sun Only the newly dead are perfectly mum all except for a hiss Earth has its revenge as thriving life is kissed DNA has a trick to again and again take the ultimate risk Webster Blagg the klaxon bell rhymer |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: Bill D Date: 03 Jan 21 - 02:30 PM Poetry, like music and food and 'art' does not resonate the same way with everyone. Some do not consider poetry to deserve the name unless it rhymes. e.e. cummings would disagree. Others think it should be 'pretty'...but.. I think some of Kipling's is moving and important while being stark and sad. It is amazing how it feels when turned into music by Peter Bellamy. Ford o' Kabul River And Soldier, Soldier is as moving a portrait of the results of war as I can imagine. There are 'pretty' poems, but I prefer paintings and photos for imagery. Diffrn't strokes for diffrn't blokes. Oh... here's my New Year's offering.. At the New Year In the shape of this night, in the still fall of snow, Father In all that is cold and tiny, these little birds and children In everything that moves tonight, the trolleys and the lovers, Father In the great hush of country, in the ugly noise of our cities In this deep throw of stars, in those trenches where the dead are, Father In all the wide land waiting, and in the liners out on the black water In all that has been said bravely, in all that is mean anywhere in the world, Father In all that is good and lovely, in every house where sham and hatred are In the name of those who wait, in the sound of angry voices, Father Before the bells ring, before this little point in time has rushed us on Before this clean moment has gone, before this night turns to face tomorrow, Father There is this high singing in the air Forever this sorrowful human face in eternity’s window And there are other bells that we would ring, Father Other bells that we would ring. Kenneth Patchen |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: Senoufou Date: 03 Jan 21 - 01:20 PM keberoxu, the very first time I took my husband on the train from Edinburgh over the Forth and the Tay bridges to Perthshire to visit my sister, I stupidly told him about the Tay Bridge disaster. If ever a very black man could go white with terror, he definitely came close! John Masefield's poem Tewkesbury Road was recited to me frequently by my mother when I was about four. I always sobbed at the last line, "...the dear wild cry of the birds". I soon learned it by heart, but it always made me cry (and still does!) |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: The Sandman Date: 03 Jan 21 - 01:14 PM i call it trite spare us john betjeman, i remember alan bennett did a wonderful parody called sitting on a loo in camden town |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: Steve Shaw Date: 03 Jan 21 - 12:59 PM Non-poetry in a normal voice does it for me most of the time, Jos! :-) "I wandered lonely as a cloud..." The bugger had clearly never been to Cornwall! I'm being a bit too negative, so a couple of lines that hit the nail on the head for me: "The Child is father of the Man" (Wordsworth again) "While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day" (Keats's Autumn jobbie) And now, my favourite. A Subaltern's Love Song, by John Betjeman Miss J.Hunter Dunn, Miss J.Hunter Dunn, Furnish'd and burnish'd by Aldershot sun, What strenuous singles we played after tea, We in the tournament - you against me! Love-thirty, love-forty, oh! weakness of joy, The speed of a swallow, the grace of a boy, With carefullest carelessness, gaily you won, I am weak from your loveliness, Joan Hunter Dunn Miss Joan Hunter Dunn, Miss Joan Hunter Dunn, How mad I am, sad I am, glad that you won, The warm-handled racket is back in its press, But my shock-headed victor, she loves me no less. Her father's euonymus shines as we walk, And swing past the summer-house, buried in talk, And cool the verandah that welcomes us in To the six-o'clock news and a lime-juice and gin. The scent of the conifers, sound of the bath, The view from my bedroom of moss-dappled path, As I struggle with double-end evening tie, For we dance at the Golf Club, my victor and I. On the floor of her bedroom lie blazer and shorts, And the cream-coloured walls are be-trophied with sports, And westering, questioning settles the sun, On your low-leaded window, Miss Joan Hunter Dunn. The Hillman is waiting, the light's in the hall, The pictures of Egypt are bright on the wall, My sweet, I am standing beside the oak stair And there on the landing's the light on your hair. By roads "not adopted", by woodlanded ways, She drove to the club in the late summer haze, Into nine-o'clock Camberley, heavy with bells And mushroomy, pine-woody, evergreen smells. Miss Joan Hunter Dunn, Miss Joan Hunter Dunn, I can hear from the car park the dance has begun, Oh! Surrey twilight! importunate band! Oh! strongly adorable tennis-girl's hand! Around us are Rovers and Austins afar, Above us the intimate roof of the car, And here on my right is the girl of my choice, With the tilt of her nose and the chime of her voice. And the scent of her wrap, and the words never said, And the ominous, ominous dancing ahead. We sat in the car park till twenty to one And now I'm engaged to Miss Joan Hunter Dunn. Now that's what I CALL a poem! |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: keberoxu Date: 03 Jan 21 - 12:58 PM Yes, Senoufou, the Pegasus Descending anthology has got all of the Tay disaster poems in it, and they cracked me up, as well: "Beautiful new railway bridge o'er the silvery Tay!" or some such. |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: Donuel Date: 03 Jan 21 - 12:38 PM Old man Potter wanted to eat the tiny Baily Savings and Loan Old man Walgreen devoured Rexall and Rite Aid it's told Old man Sam ate Mom's and Pop's by the truckload Now Wall mart-green will dispense vaccine that got too warm and is way too old. |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: Senoufou Date: 03 Jan 21 - 11:40 AM While wading through the most enormous list of worthy bards and poets at Edinburgh University, I found such light relief in the verses of William McGonagall. Don't mock him - he was hilarious. I have a feeling these lines are parodies of his poetry though, but funny just the same:- "On yonder hill there stood a doocot.(a dovecote) It's no there noo cos someone took it" "On yonder hill there stood a coo. If it's gone it's no there noo". His Tay Disaster thing was so awful we all giggled like anything during the lectures. Pure doggerel. All the blooming so-called Romantic poets drove me mad. 'Ode To A Grecian Urn' for example. And loads of other 'Odes'. So affected. (and boring!) |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: Donuel Date: 03 Jan 21 - 10:33 AM In America there was an explosion of amateur poetry after 9-11. It seems there is an explosion of song and lyric during this catastrophe. President Clinton and Obama made great selections of Poet Laureates. Trumps poet laureate may have been Goebbles. poetry As for the worst, it is in the shrunken heart of the beholder |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: Jeri Date: 03 Jan 21 - 09:29 AM "i tried to offer constructive critism recntly..." Does that EVER go well? |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: Jos Date: 03 Jan 21 - 08:43 AM I suspect that the poetry readers in question believe that they are making their poems sound deep and meaningful. I have even heard someone on the radio, when asked to read his poem, say: "I'm sorry, I can't do the poetry voice" as if he thought reading poetry in a normal voice wasn't good enough. |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: The Sandman Date: 03 Jan 21 - 08:21 AM ok soorylads i take your point its about performance, i tried to offer constructive critism recntly to a poet who read too fast in a private message, no reply, same old story its likre the floorsingers who never improve , if only they would listen or get someone else to listen to them |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: The Sandman Date: 03 Jan 21 - 08:14 AM oh for feck sake reading poetry is a skill as is reading monologues , first, do not read too quickly, leave gaps to allow the meaning to sink in before continuing. if the poem has a story , tell it what you are saying is as stupid as saying i do not like guitars because they are sometimes played badly. |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: Steve Shaw Date: 03 Jan 21 - 07:12 AM Absolutely, Jos! |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: Jos Date: 03 Jan 21 - 07:07 AM I can't bear poems read, often by the poet herself or himself, in that monotonous, wistful "poetry voice", with each pair of words alternating, the second slightly higher than the first - 'di-dah di-dah di-dah di-dah, di-dah di-dah di-dah di-dah, di-dah di-dah di-dah di-dah', and so on without variation, on and on and on ... |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: The Sandman Date: 03 Jan 21 - 07:03 AM bonzo, stop talking crap, some poems do not suit music, do you really mean that johnny coppin should sing mcgonagle |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: Bonzo3legs Date: 03 Jan 21 - 05:32 AM Poems are best sung by Johnny Coppin with a full band!!! |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: The Sandman Date: 03 Jan 21 - 02:28 AM “The Old Home” from Fumes of Formation a mckittrick ros Don’t I see the old home over there at the base Of a triangle not overcrowded with space: ‘Twas there I first breathed on the eighth of December, In the year of Our Lord the month after November. I’ve been told it was snowy and blowy and wild When I entered the home as a newly-born child, There wasn’t much fuss, nor was there much joy For sorrow was poignant I wasn’t a boy. I felt quite contented as years flitted on That I to the coarser sex did not belong Little dreaming that ever the time would arrive That of female attire I would be deprived. By a freak of the lustful that spreads like disease Which demanded that females wear pants if you please, But I stuck to the decentest style of attire And to alter my “gender” I’ll never aspire. During that hallowed century now dead and gone In which good Queen Victoria claimed to be born From childhood her modesty ever was seen Her exalted position demanded when Queen. She set an example of decency rare, That no English Queen before her you’d compare Neither nude knee nor ankle, nude bosom nor arm Dare be seen in her presence this Queen to alarm. She believed in her sex being loving and kind, And modesty never to march out of line By exposing those members unrest to achieve, Which pointed to morals immorally grave. But sad to relate when she bade “Adieu” To earth and its vanities tainted with “rue,” That centre of fashion, so French in its style, Did its utmost to vilify decency’s smile And mock at these garments which proved in their day, At a glance-who was who-and wherein gender lay, But alas! Since the death of our great and good Queen That attribute “Modesty”‘s ne’er to be seen. It wasn’t long after till modesty grew A thing of the past for me and for you; Last century’s fashions were blown quite aside, The ill-advised folk of this age now deride. The petticoat faded away as we do In circumference it covered not one leg but two, Its successor exposes the arms, breasts and necks, Legs, knees and thighs and too often-the —. |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: The Sandman Date: 03 Jan 21 - 02:22 AM Christmas Hail the coming holiday, With a hearty joyous feast, And drive away sorrow, friends, For a day or two at least; Lay all business cares aside, And make the world resound, With music and festivals Throughout our merry town. May every person in our land A voice to heaven raise, And welcome in Christ's birthday, With everlasting praise; Praise Him who died upon the cross, Our sinning souls to save, The great Redeemer, Christ our lord, That dwells beyond the grave. We should meet in reverence, And God's commands obey, And make each other happy Throughout the holiday; And not forget the orphans, The aged or the blind, The rich, the poor and needy, To each one pray be kind. May every parent in the land, Hail Christmas day with joy, And not forget a present for Their little girls and boys; They are looking forth anxiously, For Santa Claus to come And fill their little stockings, With toys and sugar-plumbs. God grant a merry Christmas eve And happy Christmas day, To every person in the land, At home or far away. That festive day will soon be here, Alas, will soon be o'er; Welcome, welcome the coming of Christmas day once more. JULIA A MOORE, now Mcgonagle Welcome, sweet Christmas, blest be the morn That Christ our Saviour was born! Earth's Redeemer, to save us from all danger, And, as the Holy Record tells, born in a manger. Chorus -- Then ring, ring, Christmas bells, Till your sweet music o'er the kingdom swells, To warn the people to respect the morn That Christ their Saviour was born. The snow was on the ground when Christ was born, And the Virgin Mary His mother felt very forlorn As she lay in a horse's stall at a roadside inn, Till Christ our Saviour was born to free us from sin. Oh! think of the Virgin Mary as she lay In a lowly stable on a bed of hay, And angels watching O'er her till Christ was born, Therefore all the people should respect Christmas morn. The way to respect Christmas time Is not by drinking whisky or wine, But to sing praises to God on Christmas morn, The time that Jesus Christ His Son was born; Whom He sent into the world to save sinners from hell And by believing in Him in heaven we'll dwell; Then blest be the morn that Christ was born, Who can save us from hell, death, and scorn. Then he warned, and respect the Saviour dear, And treat with less respect the New Year, And respect always the blessed morn That Christ our Saviour was born. For each new morn to the Christian is dear, As well as the morn of the New Year, And he thanks God for the light of each new morn. Especially the morn that Christ was born. Therefore, good people, be warned in time, And on Christmas morn don't get drunk with wine But praise God above on Christmas morn, Who sent His Son to save us from hell and scorn. There the heavenly babe He lay In a stall among a lot of hay, While the Angel Host by Bethlehem Sang a beautiful and heavenly anthem. Christmas time ought to be held most dear, Much more so than the New Year, Because that's the time that Christ was born, Therefore respect Christmas morn. And let the rich be kind to the poor, And think of the hardships they do endure, Who are neither clothed nor fed, And Many without a blanket to their bed. William Topaz McGonagall now which is the worst poem |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: Joe Offer Date: 03 Jan 21 - 01:42 AM As Dick mentioned, there's always William McGonagall, World's Worst Poet. |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: Jack Campin Date: 03 Jan 21 - 01:28 AM From a current Mudcat thread: Antje Duvekot |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: keberoxu Date: 02 Jan 21 - 10:24 PM Rapparee favors the anthology Pegasus Descending, as do I. Which brings us to Sydney Thompson Dobell: Oh the wold, the wold, Oh the wold, the wold, Oh the mystery Of the blasted tree On the wold, the wold, the wold . . . |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: Steve Shaw Date: 02 Jan 21 - 07:57 PM Well, Dick, I'll try to rescue you from this, thus... I think that most poetry is shite. I think that ordinary language expressed by ordinary people is often as lyrical and poetic as it comes. I don't need some pompous bloke who thinks he's both articulate in language and in possession of some muse or other to express ideas to me that I can process for myself - if I'm in the mood. I do try to read poetry but I find most of it to be suffering from strain. Just now and again I find a line that really hits the emotional nail on the head for me, that sez something that I couldn't have articulated for myself, or that I didn't know needed to be articulated. It's usually in a poem that some would find trivial. Miss Joan Hunter Dunn does it for me every time. And I can find real poetry in song lyrics too. Rainy Night in Soho... And, Dick, I do know that you and I share a massive admiration for William McGonagall, one poet who at least wasn't up his own arse.... |
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Subject: RE: BS: worst poets From: Joe_F Date: 02 Jan 21 - 06:50 PM You might want to browse in _The Stuffed Owl: An Anthology of Bad Verse_ (D. B. Wyndham Lewis & Charles Lee, Eds., 1930). Julia Moore is copiously represented, as are many respectable poets in off-key moments. |
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Subject: BS: worst poets From: The Sandman Date: 02 Jan 21 - 05:44 PM i have 3 candidates, mcgonagle, julia a moore and a mckittrick ros, if people would like to select poems so we can decide who is the worst of the 3 |
