I'm afraid I've been neglecting the blog, due to a particularly nasty sore throat, but normal photo output will be restored shortly. In the meantime, I've been reading Stephen Fry's new book The Ode Less Travelled, in which he sets out to provide an instruction manual for aspiring poets.
As he points out, although you're taught to deconstruct poems at school, nobody teaches you how to write them, which tends to mean that unless you're a natural genius at the whole thing you tend to get stuck on heavily rhyming dum-di-dum-di-dum efforts (I certainly did). Fry feels that the common injunction to "Just express yourself - pour your feelings out", is not particularly helpful:
"Suppose you had never played the piano in your life.
'Don't worry, just lift the lid and express yourself. Pour out your feelings.'
We have all heard children do just that and we have all wanted to treat them with great violence as a result."
Anyway, so far I've made it as far as writing iambic pentameter couplets with enjambents and caesuras, as per the instructions, and it's really good fun. A bit like doing a cryptic crossword, only better. Below is my masterpiece so far, an affecting piece about a slice of toast, which almost moved Michael to tears (he claims this was due to the pathos inherent in it...)
"Some toast that's not too burnt, with marmalade
Thick-spread across its butter-broken face."
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