Friday 29 September 2017

A POME

I was confronted by a poem on someone's blog this week.
When I say confronted I say advisedly as the experience was horrific.

Now this poet has in the past demonstrated his influences from the likes of William McGonagall (or Val Doonican) but the latest was his best - or worst- yet.

Along with the usual misspellings, grammatical errors, invented language and 'poetic' devices was a disturbing and confusing narrative that only resort to the use of hallucinogenic drugs might unravel.

Strangely enough though, like say a sore tooth that you cannot help but push and prod, this poem inspired me to write an equally bad one. It's no where near as good (or bad) but here goes:

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The poem came at me like a slithery thing
You know, like something you don’t want to see
It was wrapped in misspellings and grammatical errors
If I were a teacher I wouldn’t even give it a ‘C’

I battled on reading it – why, I don’t know
It got worse as it went on – relentlessly
Rationality went out the window and,
After reading some more lines I wish it were me

I should have expected the worst, I know, I know
I’ve read his poems before so there’s no excuse
For some reason I thought things might be better
But alas, no, it was just more literary abuse

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