Poetry Friday: The worst poem ever used as a writing workshop example (yes, Throwback Summer continues!)

journals - high schoolI have been amazed – in both good ways and bad – at the amount of poetry I’ve come across while poring over my old high school journals, which were discovered earlier this summer in my folks’ attic.

Most of it was horrendously bad – but at least I was writing, and that practice helped hone my poetry skills, vocabulary, and my sense of humor. This is why I encourage people to #WriteLikeNoOneIsReading – if we’re all supposed to dance like no one’s watching, with carefree abandon, we should apply the same principle to writing, yes?

So today, I’m sharing a poem I wrote in April 1985, and although I didn’t plan to use it as an example during my free verse poetry workshop at the New England SCBWI conference this past spring…that’s exactly what happened.

I was explaining different types of poetic “voice” (Lyrical, Narrative, Dramatic) and made mention of two types of dramatic voice: mask and apostrophe. Mask voice is when the poet speaks from the point-of-view of an inanimate object or animal; apostrophe, on the other hand, is when the poet is speaking to an inanimate object or animal.

(Speaking to a specific person might be considered apostrophe, but would most likely be deemed lyrical voice as opposed to dramatic voice, since lyrical poems are spoken in the first person…it’s a bunch of technical, poetic mumbo-jumbo that only academicians fret over, so don’t worry if you’ve already forgotten what we were talking about.)

Anyhoo…I was explaining apostrophe (the poetic voice, not the punctuation mark) and the following poem suddenly popped in my head – and this was before I even discovered it hidden away between old, empty jelly jars and a dust-covered Air Hockey table at my parents’ place. Yes, it’s a rhyming poem, but it uses apostrophe in a most ridiculously overblown way, elevating a kitchen cleaning product to Shakespearean heights.

Even now, I look back on this and chuckle…it wasn’t the greatest poem ever written, but I’ve read a lot of poems that were worse, written by adults who should know better:

Ode to a Dishrag

O limpy piece of terrycloth,
Stained from last night’s chicken broth,
How I love to hold you, thus –
I clean pans and you don’t fuss.
And tho’ you soak in many a sud,
Ne’er do you complain of the crud.
You don’t mind the soggy bread,
Burnt-on Spam of which I dread),
Bits of egg and moldy cheese…
You put up with all of these.
Coffee grinds, potato skins,
Parts of fish – like eyes and fins –
And then, of course, there’s pots and pans
That always seem to stick to hands.
All these things you clean with care;
You touch things I wouldn’t dare.
So if I never let you know,
Dishrag, how I love you so!

– Matt Forrest Esenwine, April 11, 1985

I’m honestly not sure what kind of “poetry” I’ll be sharing next week, but I only have one or two more weeks left of my Throwback Summer – so your brain can rest easy knowing that by the time the kids are back in school, (slightly) more tolerable poetry will be coming your way here at the ol’ Triple-R blog.

poetryfridaybutton-fulllSpeaking of back-to-school, Julieanne at To Read To Write To Be has today’s Poetry Friday roundup, and is as excited as a person can be as she prepares to venture forth in the new academic year. So head on over and check out all the poetry links and fun!

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“Constancy”

This post was originally published August 3, 2012. It was my first poetry post on this blog, and only my second post ever, following my introduction. But I repost it every year around this time, as my wedding anniversary is August 10 and the poem was part of my wedding vows. I wouldn’t be where I am without my wife, after all – she’s the one who allows me to be a stay-at-home dad who writes for a (modest) living! 

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poetryfridaybutton-fulllThis is only my second posting on this blog, and although I knew I wanted to do something for Poetry Friday, it took quite a bit of deliberation to decide which poem of mine I should spotlight.  Children’s poetry or adult poetry?  Published or unpublished?  Happy or sad?  Funny or serious???

Well, after careful consideration, I decided I would post an unpublished poem I wrote a few years ago for the one person in the world who has done the most for me in my quest to become a published children’s author:   my wife, Jenny. Through her unwavering support (emotional, physical, AND financial), I’m able to pursue this dream along with all the other people who have been so helpful to me, like my kids, friends, and fellow writers.

This is a traditional Elizabethan sonnet (three quatrains with an a/b/a/b, c/d/c/d, e/f/e/f rhyme scheme followed by a rhyming g/g couplet) which I wrote as part of my wedding vows.  No, it doesn’t read as a contemporary poem; it was deliberately written in a sort of old-fashioned, classic sort of style. I wanted to express the thought that even though poets throughout history have written words of undying love and immutable steadfastness, my love for her surpassed all their metaphors, all their similes, all that they could ever have imagined.

Yes, I’m a romantic; I make no apologies.

I conclude my poem with a suggestion for them as to what they should compare their love to…but it’s not a rose or a star.

Looking back on it (indeed, even shortly after I’d written it), there are things I would have changed, edited, or revised – it is a bit over-wrought, I admit – but I was under a deadline, of course, and this was what I came up with.  Unlike my other poems, “Constancy” will never be put through revisions, however.  These were the words I spoke to my wife on August 10, 2008 (in a voice loud enough that the entire state of Massachusetts could hear) and so they shall remain.  These words were part of my vows and are as unalterable as my love and gratitude for her.


Thanks again for saying “Yes,” Honey.

Constancy
For Jennifer

How many have, before me, tried in vain
To capture beauty, constancy, and love
Through fluent phrase, in happiness and pain,
And simile of summer, star, or dove?
Their words so eloquent, imagery lush –
In perfect imperfection testify,
For seasons change, the steadfast heavens rush
To swirl about themselves, and doves will die.
How best to show the one whom I adore
The fullness of my amorosity?
I fail to find a finer metaphor
Than that true love which you have shown to me.
The poets fail! Their thoughts do not dismiss;
‘Tis better they compare their love to this.

© 2008, Matt Forrest Esenwine, all rights reserved

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Poetry Friday: Monarchy memorization, as Throwback Summer stumbles along

As I scan through the pages of my final senior English class journal, I am met with all sorts of strange writings: word puzzles, short essays on why I was so different from everyone (ya think?), and even long treatises on how bored I was about having to write in a journal.

(The treasure trove of history and nostalgia that I came across at my parents’ house earlier this summer has been eye-opening, to say the least; you can read more about what I discovered and why I’m featuring my high school writings HERE.)

Today it’s a little rhyming (more or less) history lesson. In my journal, I admit the poem is crude – but even now, I have to give myself credit for even thinking this thing up. If you’ve ever wanted to memorize the kings and queens of England, look no further…

Homework

1660, the Stuarts came;
2nd Charles and 2nd James,
Billy 3rd and Mary 2,
finally Anne was the last of the Stu’s.

Then the house of Hanover:
1st four Georges did come over.
William 4 was next in line,
Vicky lasted for some time.

Just two kings for Saxon-Coburg:
Ed the 7th and 5th of George.

Then the House of Windsor came.
George the 5th (same man, new name),
Ed the 8th one year was in,
then George the 6th, and Beth’s still in.

– Matt Forrest Esenwine, 5-1-85

Just over a month away from graduating high school, and while all the girls were writing poems about love, lovers, love lost, love regained, love unrequited, love, love,  love, blabbedy-love…here I was with my English monarch ditty. If you wonder how popular I was in school, this should leave no doubt.

For more poetry (and much better poetry, I might add), I encourage you to visit Margaret Simon’s home on the web, Reflections on the Teche, for today’s Poetry Friday roundup!

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To keep abreast of all my posts, please consider subscribing via the links up there on the right!  (I usually only post twice a week – on Tues. and Fri. – so you won’t be inundated with emails every day)
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Poetry Friday: “Ode to Lint,” a Throwback Summer lost classic

poetryfridaybutton-fulllYes, this poem had been lost for a long time…and had I not stumbled upon it in my parents’ attic, we all would have probably been better off.

If you have somehow not heard, I am sharing bits and pieces of my high school journals this summer, having come across a huge stash of old schoolwork while cleaning out my folks’ house, in preparation for its sale.

Back in June, I wrote about the initial discovery, and just this past Tuesday I explained why it was inevitable that I ended up in careers involving writing and advertising. Today, I’m sharing another one of the chestnuts I wrote in my English journal during senior year…and although it’s far from stellar-quality, it is probably the best-written poem I’ve shared from my journals so far.

You be the judge…

“Ode to Lint, II”

What is this, that I do see
floating past, in front of me?
Small dust speck, or puff of hair?
What is that thing flying there?
I reach out, it comes to me,
hardly larger than a flea;
I look close, I analyze.
Staring hard, I scrutinize
and attempt (as best I can)
to discern this work of Man.
Oh, too hard to contemplate!
Leaves my hand to impend fate.
What is that, that I do see
floating past, in front of me?
Small dust speck, or puff of hair?
What is that thing flying there??

– © 1985, Matt Forrest Esenwine, 4-4-85

Now, you have not known this until now, but I’ve done you the great service of not sharing most of the horrible poetry I wrote back then. Yes, yes…hard to believe, considering the subterranean level of quality of most of it. But true.

I had a penchant for trying to elevate the most mundane, ridiculous objects into flowery, verbose poems – so consider yourself fortunate that I have not shared my “Ode to a Stool,” “Ode to a Desk,” “Ode to Crust,” “Ode to Dropping Socks,” “Ode to Slippery Shoes,” “Ode to a Deep Thought,” or – what just might be the worst of all – my “Ode to Lint, I.” That’s right, I wasn’t happy with just one poem about lint; I apparently felt the subject was worthy of two, at least.

For today’s complete Poetry Friday roundup, head on over to Books 4 Learning. And be prepared…there’s a whole lot more mediocrity coming your way next week, right here!

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Poetry Friday: Lame robot humor, as Throwback Summer stumbles along!

poetryfridaybutton-fulllYes, indeed, it’s another “gem” from one of Yours Truly’s high school journals…and there’s a reason I put that word in quotes.

This was written almost exactly one month after last week’s mosquito/Dorito masterpiece; if you didn’t mind that one, and are willing to forgive a forced rhyme or groan-worthy punchline, then read on! But remember:  you’ve been warned.

A Robot Poem

There once was a robot named Slo-ped
who was bought for a child as a moped.
It could dance, it could sing,
do most anything,
except when it swam, it corro-ded.

– Matt Forrest Esenwine, 5/13/83

Why am I foisting all this horrible poetry from my high school years onto such an innocent and kind-hearted reader such as yourself? I explain HERE. Not sure who is hosting Poetry Friday today, but if you’d like to indulge in some REAL wordsmithery, check out Kidlitosphere Central’s Poetry Friday page to follow this year’s schedule of hosts!

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Did you like this post? Find something interesting elsewhere in this blog? I really won’t mind at all if you feel compelled to share it with your friends and followers!
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To keep abreast of all my posts, please consider subscribing via the links up there on the right!  (I usually only post twice a week – on Tues. and Fri. – so you won’t be inundated with emails every day)
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Poetry Friday: Throwback Summer continues, with blood and chips

poetryfridaybutton-fulllIt’s another priceless artifact from one of Yours Truly’s high school journals…and while the poem is fairly mediocre, I’m quite proud of myself for the rhymes I was able to come up with…

Untitled

Sitting here eating a bag of Doritos,
I notice the high, humming sound of mosquitos.
I eat my corn chips sprinkled with cheese
and feel a proboscis sink into my knees.
While all I can taste are corn, cheese, and spices,
they suck out my blood like they’re having a crisis.

– Matt Forrest Esenwine, 4/18/83

Yep, just a few months away from wrapping up my sophomore year, and I was cracking myself up with these ridiculous poems. As I’ve said before, we all have to start somewhere, right?

If you’d care to find out why I’m sharing some of these early writings, I explain it all HERE. Be sure to check out all of today’s Poetry Friday offerings – and view the complete schedule for the rest of 2016 – by checking out Kidlitosphere Central’s Poetry Friday page!

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Did you like this post? Find something interesting elsewhere in this blog? I really won’t mind at all if you feel compelled to share it with your friends and followers!
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To keep abreast of all my posts, please consider subscribing via the links up there on the right!  (I usually only post twice a week – on Tues. and Fri. – so you won’t be inundated with emails every day)
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Also feel free to visit my voiceover website HERE, and you can also follow me via Twitter FacebookPinterest, and SoundCloud!

Poetry Friday: More questionable poetry, as Throwback Summer continues!

Warning: this blog post contains hazardous reading material which may leave you wondering how to regain the 4 or 5 minutes of life you will have lost.

poetryfridaybutton-fulllThat’s right…it’s an another thrilling excerpt from one of four high school English writing journals I recently discovered in my parents’ attic! Last week, I explained why I’m sharing these early writings of mine, and how my writing back then helped me develop my writing style now.

This past Tuesday, I shared a few pages from my very first children’s book – more or less. It was a high school Creative Writing project, but the fact that it still exists is stunning.

Today, I have another poem from my sophomore year; this time, from March 1983, the same month that Dr. Barney Clark died 112 days after he had become the first artificial heart recipient, and Michael Jackson’s “Beat It” was all over the airwaves. (I have to mention, it was also the month that Monty Python’s “History of the World” debuted!)

The following doesn’t say much about my poetry-writing skills so much as it gives you a pretty good idea of my sense of humour:

Some Sort of an Ode
(Click to enlarge, if you dare)

For more poetry, please visit Diane Mayr at Random Noodling for today’s Poetry Friday roundup!

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Did you like this post? Find something interesting elsewhere in this blog? I really won’t mind at all if you feel compelled to share it with your friends and followers!
SCVBWI_Member-badge (5 years)
To keep abreast of all my posts, please consider subscribing via the links up there on the right!  (I usually only post twice a week – on Tues. and Fri. – so you won’t be inundated with emails every day)
 .
Also feel free to visit my voiceover website HERE, and you can also follow me via Twitter FacebookPinterest, and SoundCloud!