I long for Prose – but darkly, distantly,
She looks at far-off lands.
It’s Poetry who brings persistently
Small gifts in small white hands.
I confess that I have always wanted to be a novelist rather than a poet… but when, over the years, several novels remain as unpublished manuscripts but the poetry contributes to bubble up and find a home, what can you do? Smile ruefully and accept the gifts you are offered, and be grateful.
Every youngest daughter’s
Never at the party,
Always in the cellar;
Tired of washing dishes,
Tired of sweeping dirt;
Wants to be a lady,
A scientist, a flirt;
Wants to travel world-wide,
Read till reading’s done;
Wants to be a mother,
Playing in the sun;
Wants to be the princess,
Beauty of the Ball –
Fairytales happen –
Watch, she’ll have it all!
First published in Lighten-Up Online (“LUPO”), the quarterly edited by Jerome Betts in the UK; republished in The HyperTexts, the massive anthology of poetry curated by Michael R. Burch. Good poets, both of them.
When the deep darkness dulls the dirty land
Before the moon meanders through the stars,
Invisibly the sea creeps up the sand
As night-blind drinkers lose keys to their cars.
Ah, the winter, with its delights and hazards! Escape it when you can, and explore fresh delights and hazards! That’s life, isn’t it.
This little poem was published in Lighten-Up Online, aka LUPO, the UK’s top light verse online magazine. Editor Jerome Betts carries on the work begun 12 years ago by Martin Parker: a quarterly issue of some 30 full-length poems, and as many again of the 4-to-8-line variety. Contributors include every current poet you have heard of who can write light engaging verse that rhymes and scans – unless, that is, they expect to be paid for their poems!
So, following up on the previous post about Lighten Up Online, I get my own short, light things in there once in a while. Tucked in as one of the Seven Sixes, in the current issue I have “Modern Cars”:
Dealing with the modern automobile
is like a farrier fixing a steering wheel.
Forget your happy thrills
with metal tools, familiar skills.
This is no horse and carriage.
Just take it to a garage.
Yes, my American and Canadian friends, that last word rhymes… at least in the UK… at least to some people. I suspect that’s one of the reasons I wrote the poem (together with expressing the futility of trying to fix modern things oneself). I enjoy hearing all the variations of the word “garage“!