The Eye of the Beholder
Posted: Tue Mar 24, 2015 10:26 am
Some people say that free verse stinks, it’s not their cup of tea, it has no metre and no rhyme, and only seems to be a bunch of arty-farty types who toss their words around at random, like a winter wind spreads leaves across the ground. “It’s rubbish, crap, a pile of junk, for poetry it’s not, and I refuse to try and read such awful bloody rot!” But others say that rhyming sucks, it’s not their cup of tea, it’s all that dum-de-dum-de stuff, and only seems to be a bunch of country bumpkin types who send us all to sleep with endless talk of kangaroos and billabongs and sheep. “It’s out-of-date! It had its day a hundred years ago, it’s stilted, clumsy, forcing rhymes, and simply doesn’t flow!” And I would say they both have faults, but that should never be the reason to just walk away, for then you’ll never see what each can offer to us all, the chance to look and learn what writers, with their varied skills, can give us when they turn their hand to setting down their thoughts, their insight, hopes and dreams, for poetry, in any form, is much more than it seems.
Some people say that free verse stinks, it’s not their cup of tea,
it has no metre and no rhyme, and only seems to be
a bunch of arty-farty types who toss their words around
at random, like a winter wind spreads leaves across the ground.
“It’s rubbish, crap, a pile of junk, for poetry it’s not,
and I refuse to try and read such awful bloody rot!”
But others say that rhyming sucks, it’s not their cup of tea,
it’s all that dum-de-dum-de stuff, and only seems to be
a bunch of country bumpkin types who send us all to sleep
with endless talk of kangaroos and billabongs and sheep.
“It’s out-of-date! It had its day a hundred years ago,
it’s stilted, clumsy, forcing rhymes, and simply doesn’t flow!”
And I would say they both have faults, but that should never be
the reason to just walk away, for then you’ll never see
what each can offer to us all, the chance to look and learn
what writers, with their varied skills, can give us when they turn
their hand to setting down their thoughts, their insight, hopes and dreams,
for poetry, in any form, is much more than it seems.
Some people say that free verse
stinks,
it’s not their cup of tea,
it has no metre and no rhyme,
and only seems to be
a bunch of arty-farty types
who toss their words around
at random,
like a winter wind
spreads leaves
across the ground.
“It’s rubbish, crap,
a pile of junk,
for poetry it’s not,
and I refuse to try and read
such awful bloody rot!”
But others say that rhyming
sucks,
it’s not their cup of tea,
it’s all that dum-de-dum-de stuff,
and only seems to be a bunch of country bumpkin types
who send us all to sleep with endless talk of kangaroos and billabongs and sheep.
“It’s out-of-date!
It had its day a hundred years ago,
it’s stilted, clumsy, forcing rhymes,
and simply doesn’t flow!”
And I would say they both have faults,
but that should never be the reason to just
walk away,
for then you’ll never see what each can offer
to us all,
the chance to look and learn
what writers, with their varied skills,
can give us
when they turn their hand
to setting down their thoughts,
their insight, hopes and dreams,
for poetry, in any form,
is much more than it seems.
David
Some people say that free verse stinks, it’s not their cup of tea,
it has no metre and no rhyme, and only seems to be
a bunch of arty-farty types who toss their words around
at random, like a winter wind spreads leaves across the ground.
“It’s rubbish, crap, a pile of junk, for poetry it’s not,
and I refuse to try and read such awful bloody rot!”
But others say that rhyming sucks, it’s not their cup of tea,
it’s all that dum-de-dum-de stuff, and only seems to be
a bunch of country bumpkin types who send us all to sleep
with endless talk of kangaroos and billabongs and sheep.
“It’s out-of-date! It had its day a hundred years ago,
it’s stilted, clumsy, forcing rhymes, and simply doesn’t flow!”
And I would say they both have faults, but that should never be
the reason to just walk away, for then you’ll never see
what each can offer to us all, the chance to look and learn
what writers, with their varied skills, can give us when they turn
their hand to setting down their thoughts, their insight, hopes and dreams,
for poetry, in any form, is much more than it seems.
Some people say that free verse
stinks,
it’s not their cup of tea,
it has no metre and no rhyme,
and only seems to be
a bunch of arty-farty types
who toss their words around
at random,
like a winter wind
spreads leaves
across the ground.
“It’s rubbish, crap,
a pile of junk,
for poetry it’s not,
and I refuse to try and read
such awful bloody rot!”
But others say that rhyming
sucks,
it’s not their cup of tea,
it’s all that dum-de-dum-de stuff,
and only seems to be a bunch of country bumpkin types
who send us all to sleep with endless talk of kangaroos and billabongs and sheep.
“It’s out-of-date!
It had its day a hundred years ago,
it’s stilted, clumsy, forcing rhymes,
and simply doesn’t flow!”
And I would say they both have faults,
but that should never be the reason to just
walk away,
for then you’ll never see what each can offer
to us all,
the chance to look and learn
what writers, with their varied skills,
can give us
when they turn their hand
to setting down their thoughts,
their insight, hopes and dreams,
for poetry, in any form,
is much more than it seems.
David
