Haiku in my hand

In which I five, seven, five.

Of all the forms of writing I struggle most with poetry. I can be handed a book onnpoetry and be told “hey this stuff is amazing” and I’d have to take your word for it. I have the same problem with art, I have no concept of good or bad just what I like. And how do I know if my own taste is right?

As I cannot determine the merits of a piece of poetry I find it tricky to write it as well. The only rule I have is that it should rhyme because all the poems I read as a kid did. My poetry preference is rooted in the artistic sensibilities of an eight year old.

So for the next two weeks I am going to follow in the footsteps of Keats, Tennyson and Ayres. I’m going to write poetry, and I cannot promise it will be good. In fact I guarantee it won’t, I have a set of rules to write to and will be following them rather than doing it from the soul or gall bladder (wherever it is prose cones from). To begin…haiku’s.

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Travelogue : Cruising around the Med

In which I’m on a boat.

I like cruising around the Med

A poem by Geek Ergo Sum aged 35 and 3/20ths – written in semi rhyming free prose (and done on the train so no guarantees on the quality) and inspired by both a map of the Mediterranean and two weeks spen on a boat

PIC-Map of the Mediterranean

I like cruising around the Med,

I can do it from my bed,

You get to go on a great big ship,

The waves go up and then they dip.

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Odes to things I love

On Valentine’s the one part of my life I don’t feel like having to say a special “I love you” to is Mrs G. We have this unwritten agreement that we like each other a lot, and she will tell me that she loves me to which I have only one reply.

So rather than upsetting her Shakespearephilia and attempting to write sonnets extolling her many virtues I’m going to attempt poetry (which is always a dangerous style for me to try) declaring my love for other items that get my blood racing (and it may also raise the blood pressure of those who love and cherish poetry).

On Valentine’s the one part of my life I don’t feel like having to say a special “I love you” to is Mrs G. We have this unwritten agreement that we like each other a lot, and she will tell me that she loves me to which I have only one reply.

So rather than upsetting her Shakespearephilia and attempting to write sonnets extolling her many virtues I’m going to attempt poetry (which is always a dangerous style for me to try) declaring my love for other items that get my blood racing (and it may also raise the blood pressure of those who love and cherish poetry).

Things what I love – A collection.

Continue reading “Odes to things I love”