Dipping my toe-try into poetry

Plus: quests, trusting the experts, autoplay and more

Hi, hope you're all well. This week is a collection of different things, including some drawings, observations, and also a few poems - which I've started writing a bit of lately. I know, I'm as surprised as you are.

I like to do these kinds of posts every so often because it allows me to put all these random little ideas somewhere. The poems are a new feature though, and I'll be honest, I'm not sure what to make of it. I've been reading a bit of poetry in recent times (by way of a few modern poets), and I think it's cracked open a door in my brain, and now a big gusty wind has violently blown it open and the door handle has wedged itself into the drywall.

I'm getting a tradesperson around to fix it during the week.

Perhaps it might be a flash in the pan, or it might be something I mix in regularly if all goes well. I'm sort of just going with it at the moment.

And just to reassure you, I haven't backflipped and am now trying to write like Keats or anything like that. I like to think some of this crude, ham-fisted dabbling that almost certainly doesn't qualify as proper poetry, is just an extension of what I already do in this newsletter. Which I hope is some combination of humour, insightfulness, observation, a few heavy splashings of silliness (read: stupidity), and one or two croutons of wisdom. All whizzed up into a light and tasty crumb - not too heavy. That's what we're dealing with.

As for what's coming up in the next month or so, at this stage it will be a mix of the usual offerings: essays, musings, diary entries, some illustrated posts. All the usual stuff, maybe even a poem or two. And then all of a sudden, after a few of those, that's the year done.

I believe it was Keats that said: Shit I can't believe it's September already, you guys. So crazy hey.

Ask the experts

The climate's changing rapidly,
all sorts of record numbers.
Heat waves rolling in,
and endless hot girl summers.

It's only getting more extreme,
expert's say, that's a fact.
But not even science could have seen
a summer quite so brat.

All unprecedented,
who knows what's coming next.
Perhaps we should ask Megan,
or Charli XCX.

This one's very in the zeitgeist. I fell into a bit of a rabbit hole with all the brat summer stuff. It's Kamala's fault mostly. And the Megan in the poem is Megan Thee Stallion. Her song spawned all the 'hot girl summer' stuff back in 2019. I just wanted to add some background info in case anyone needed it all mansplained by a 41 year old white male.

Quests

What’s the smallest quest you can go on before it becomes just an errand? What’s the tipping point?

Is it a quest if you're heading out to pick up some bread and milk, but it's in a faraway land? Or you have to post a letter but you need to cut through a magical forest to get to the post office?

Or, what about the opposite. You need to drop a ring in a volcano but the volcano is just down the end of the street. Errand?

I was out on a walk the other day listening to some music on Spotify, and at the end of the playlist, it just started playing more music. This is something that all platforms have taken to doing. Especially when you're watching a show, it'll just start playing the next episode. Or even if you're on the home screen of a platform, it'll just start rolling a clip from the show or movie.

And so now there are no endings anymore, just content infinitely playing into the future. And so this poem is inspired by that. And also that feeling of gently easing into January, and then next thing you know you've binged your way to September.

Autoplay

All of life keeps flying by.
Forgot to turn off autoplay.
Next episode in 5.

Skip recap, though I can’t remember
anything from earlier.

What season are you in?
I heard it was renewed for Spring.

It just keeps going, 
streaming, flowing.

Can't stop
No time to pause
and wonder
or take a breath
and ponder

no time at all.

Except for when I need to know
that actor's name I can't recall.

PAUSE.

PLAY.

Credits roll,
eventually it ends.

But before then,
how about an episode of Friends?

What a time 
	to be 
		alive.
Next episode in 5.

Roxana sat on the beach eating watermelon.

She didn't realise at the time, but it would be the last time she ever did so.

Not because anything bad happened, she just wasn't that big of a fan of watermelon. Plus she didn't go to the beach that often either.

A very special baby born, 
a humble barn, 
a young king adorned. 

Frankincense, myrrh, and gold bestowed.
Plus a Terry's Chocolate Orange, 
from Nigel down the road.

Hope you enjoyed this week’s post, and especially the poems. What did you think? Drop a comment below and let me know. Does the autoplay stuff trigger anyone else, or is it just me? Is Terry’s Chocolate Orange a better baby gift than myrrh?