I have spent ten minutes just now rewarding myself for writing 2000 words on my latest novel by visiting an old website of mine which bore the heading "yvilorsfantasyfiction: where terrible poetry and outrageously busy fantasy fiction wallops you in the eye". Visiting this website had made me eternally grateful that the book the releases on August 24th does not happen to contain any of my poetry. However, for old time's sake, I'll share some of my findings here:
Disturber of the Peace
Beneath emerald leaves
In grassy parks
In quiet places
A dog endlessly barks.
It barks and it barks until it becomes the whole world.
The sound grows and grows till colours are swirled.
Muddied, the sky turns a dismal grey.
I wish that dog would shut up today.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
I find this amusing actually, because I am now a dog owner. Fortunately for me and for the dog, it does not bark (or hasn't begun yet). So far, so good.
Inspiration, Buses, and Majorca
Waiting for inspiration
Is rather like waiting for a bus.
You stand under the shelter
(Which has a big crack in the glass
And almost no roof)
And it starts to pour.
The wind is howling at you.
Millions of cars flash by.
You wait for forty minutes.
Five buses show up.
You wave your hands frantically for them to slow down.
You think quickly:
“Which one will take me to Cambridge?”
The buses start to leave.
You jump on one in a hurry
And settle down.
The air pump is broken.
There are loads of loud, rude people
Who leave their gum on the sides of seats.
The bus takes you to Majorca.
Thanks so much.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
I actually sort of like this poem, because it rather like the inspiration process. It certainly sheds light on why my poetry is so truly awful.
I Don't Want to Be
I don’t want to be alone forever.
I don’t want to have fifteen cats.
I don’t want to spend all my time writing
And buying fancy hats.
I don’t want to be alone forever.
I don’t want to sing myself to death.
I don’t want to teach until I’m
Over-caffeinated and completely out of breath.
I don’t want to be alone forever.
I don’t want to be rolling in cash.
I don’t want play piano till I lose fingers.
I won’t study literary trash.
I won’t give up praying for one second.
I’ll wait and I’ll work and I’ll write.
Maybe one day I’ll have someone to share it with
If that’s God’s will for my life.
------------------------------------------------------------------
Clearly, I wasn't happy being single. Anyhow, I'm married now. Interesting how much of this old website was constituted of morose, single thoughts. And now to finish with something truly awful.
The Pros and Cons of Deadlines
Deadlines are sort of like giant hammers.
They’re very unpleasant to be on the other end of.
Deadlines are like asteroids.
They can kill you at a blow.
Deadlines are like vampires.
They drain you of life and health
(And make you pale, skinny, and lethargic).
On the other hand,
Deadlines are a fantastic excuse to have coffee.
They make Facebook look one hundred percent more interesting.
YouTube turns into a magnet.
Chocolate becomes the staple of your diet.
When people start to write to you and ask you
“How far away are you from meeting this deadline?”
You turn into an ogre and want to yell at everything.
But you reply all nice and politely and try to act sane
Even though your brain is putrefying
And spilling out of your ears.
Once you have met your deadline,
You transform magically into a really nice person.
You feel all accomplished.
You go around drinking wine and spending time with people –
Until the next deadline comes around
And turns you into a raging hermit
Who eats unhealthy food and never exercises.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
I hope all this inspires you to greater heights than I can ever achieve!
Disturber of the Peace
Beneath emerald leaves
In grassy parks
In quiet places
A dog endlessly barks.
It barks and it barks until it becomes the whole world.
The sound grows and grows till colours are swirled.
Muddied, the sky turns a dismal grey.
I wish that dog would shut up today.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
I find this amusing actually, because I am now a dog owner. Fortunately for me and for the dog, it does not bark (or hasn't begun yet). So far, so good.
Inspiration, Buses, and Majorca
Waiting for inspiration
Is rather like waiting for a bus.
You stand under the shelter
(Which has a big crack in the glass
And almost no roof)
And it starts to pour.
The wind is howling at you.
Millions of cars flash by.
You wait for forty minutes.
Five buses show up.
You wave your hands frantically for them to slow down.
You think quickly:
“Which one will take me to Cambridge?”
The buses start to leave.
You jump on one in a hurry
And settle down.
The air pump is broken.
There are loads of loud, rude people
Who leave their gum on the sides of seats.
The bus takes you to Majorca.
Thanks so much.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
I actually sort of like this poem, because it rather like the inspiration process. It certainly sheds light on why my poetry is so truly awful.
I Don't Want to Be
I don’t want to be alone forever.
I don’t want to have fifteen cats.
I don’t want to spend all my time writing
And buying fancy hats.
I don’t want to be alone forever.
I don’t want to sing myself to death.
I don’t want to teach until I’m
Over-caffeinated and completely out of breath.
I don’t want to be alone forever.
I don’t want to be rolling in cash.
I don’t want play piano till I lose fingers.
I won’t study literary trash.
I won’t give up praying for one second.
I’ll wait and I’ll work and I’ll write.
Maybe one day I’ll have someone to share it with
If that’s God’s will for my life.
------------------------------------------------------------------
Clearly, I wasn't happy being single. Anyhow, I'm married now. Interesting how much of this old website was constituted of morose, single thoughts. And now to finish with something truly awful.
The Pros and Cons of Deadlines
Deadlines are sort of like giant hammers.
They’re very unpleasant to be on the other end of.
Deadlines are like asteroids.
They can kill you at a blow.
Deadlines are like vampires.
They drain you of life and health
(And make you pale, skinny, and lethargic).
On the other hand,
Deadlines are a fantastic excuse to have coffee.
They make Facebook look one hundred percent more interesting.
YouTube turns into a magnet.
Chocolate becomes the staple of your diet.
When people start to write to you and ask you
“How far away are you from meeting this deadline?”
You turn into an ogre and want to yell at everything.
But you reply all nice and politely and try to act sane
Even though your brain is putrefying
And spilling out of your ears.
Once you have met your deadline,
You transform magically into a really nice person.
You feel all accomplished.
You go around drinking wine and spending time with people –
Until the next deadline comes around
And turns you into a raging hermit
Who eats unhealthy food and never exercises.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
I hope all this inspires you to greater heights than I can ever achieve!
