to Poets: ‘Things ‘ to remember

 

Rhythm and rhyme and verbal trickery
Are the building blocks of all good poetry.
Alliteration and metaphor and assononce too–
Here’s a message from you know who.                                      Philip Ivory

No adverbs or adjectives                                      JJS

When you write a verse they say beware the adverb, it slows the movement.  If you use a noun, decry adjectives as to describe just clutters the mind.

Just think,  “You save so much ink.”

 

Poets Cornered

 

Sitting in a stereotypical circle

each position duly claimed, duly noted,

we six practiced our secret art

of Poetry that we wroted!

 

It may seem harsh to chronicle something so abominable

but we only hope to be quoted when this Earth we all depart.

The problem, some see, or not,

is that like novelists,  of poets there are a lot,

but only few are published, and even then forgot!

 

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One Poem: Birthdays by Philip Ivory

Birthdays—-                                                                              Philip Ivory

You can celebrate your birthday in many ways:
You can lie in your cot with puckered face
While outside open-top trams clang down to the centre
And your father bikes with a rose to the mother and child;
You can be treated to creamy cakes at the end of the war
And reject them, they’re too rich for a stomach
Bred on dried egg and wheat-flakes like cardboard;
You can jump a few years and be a naval rating
Out drinking beer with his mates at a succession
Of crowded bars in a German sea-town,
Later to be assisted aboard the homeward bus,
Staring at the stars.

You can mark the day as time and mood see fit:
This year I sit in this exam room considering the frowning faces
Of solemn girls crouched over creaking desks;
Whispers around the room implore me for tissues
For more paper and quiet explanations of knotty points;
Tonight we are going out to eat at a little place in the Good Food Guide
Where you have to book a day in advance
For the privilege of eating small amounts, beautifully cooked,
With plenty of elbow room.

 

Written …………. June 2 1977