I mentioned in a previous blog about my quest in wanting to become a creative writer. And for me this was a turning point, during my studies for my Open University Degree, where one assessment required me to write some poetry.
My feelings about poetry have been well documented. Going back to my school days, I regarded it as the best cure for insomnia . But in this course, I had to put my “prejudices”to one side. I had to, as it could have been the difference between me getting a degree or not.
One thing that changed my outlook on poetry was a video that was produced by a young man who looked like a rapper, but showed a modern approach to poetry. He said that if you have any feelings ( hate, anger, love, feeling sorry for yourself, etc – I have plenty of those), then you can write poetry, if you don’t have any feelings , then you are dead.
It might sound straight to point, but surprise surprise – It worked !!!
I then composed my first every poem. ( Stands back in shock !)
Considering I was a guy who looked on poetry as an alternative to sleeping tablets, I was chuffed with what I produced as a first attempt. When you read it, you will be able to detect the cynicism flowing through it
It has been enough to inspire me to develop a style of my own.
Here is the point when you scroll down and check out the finished results for yourselves. Remember I am poetic virgin, so please gentle with me.
What is the point in poetry?
Some people think it is Art.
It’s nothing but endless romantic tosh,
Written by boring old Farts.
What is the thrill of Burns and Shakespeare,
Men from two different lands.
Producing pages of meaningless prose,
That no Bugger understands.
“Poetry is all about emotion,” they say.
The stuff that makes you feel alive.
But did Shakespeare ever experience the joy,
Being stuck on the M25.
“So write one of your own,” they said.
“Search the web for some inspiration”
I ploughed through “You Tube”, Spam and even some Porn,
It just added more sleep deprivation.
I checked out news stories for more ideas,
Features on Environment, Politics and Crime.
I even tried to write about Bankers,
But could not find a clean word to rhyme.
Hey hang on! I’ve just written five verses.
So I must be doing something right.
It’s not a Pulitzer, but it’s still a poem.
Finally I get some sleep tonight.
Frank McGroarty (Anti Poet)