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November 30, 2004

a note to alan smith (a sonnet)

A note to Alan Smith

There are no commas in your poem at all
Except for proper nouns, no upper case
Nor periods! You've got a lot of gall
Undisciplined unscholarly disgrace!

Your word use is enough to make me "ill"
Not "chuck" or "chunder" as your po'ms insist
"Queen's English" please, not Post-Coloni'l swill
"Relaxed with wine" is pref'rable to "pissed."

And where are the accoutrements of style?
The metaphors and similes and so?
Perhaps you deem alliteration vile?
And could we give some assonance a go?

Your work lampoons each principle I've taught.
It gets what it deserves; a mark of naught.

(c) alan smith 2004

Posted by alan at 4:42 AM | Comments (4)

November 28, 2004

joe blakin' (life with parkinson's disease)

a few minutes to wipe
a great urge to type
i'm joe blakin'
hands all ashudder
keys all bejjudder
violent shakin'

at 5:30 dark
it's the cold not the Park'...
I tell myself lies o so well
as the heater goes on
...has the wavering gone?
not a paddlepop's chance down in hell

it may be that I'm fearful
emotional? tearful?
could be tension awaggin' my arm!
I shake when excited
and 'specialy when frighted
but I'm not now ...I'm restful and calm

must stop kidding myself
my problem's ... ... my health!
it's the Park that's the real villain here
why the eff was it given...
my present from heaven?
or a hellish big boot up the rear?

it's mod'rate some days
on others... ablaze
but time off for good conduct? never.
right now the shakes
are like bloody big quakes
bad day? or here forever?

(c) alan smith 2003

My first... a bit ocker, but it is me afterall.

Parkies ('the Park') is a mean rotten bastard

Posted by alan at 5:52 PM | Comments (12)