World Book Day
Look! I was a huge liar when I said I didn't post poems. I am posting a poem! Mainly because it is World Book Day and this one is about books. Listen if you like. Don't be completely fooled by the name: it contains one swear. Just before you go letting your children listen.
Here are the words, as I know some people like to read instead of listen.
The worst piece of advice anyone ever got
was ‘write what you know’
Write what you know?
I know grocery shopping, and bus hopping
I know traffic light waiting and internet dating
I know nights in with my cat
You want to read about that?
No!
Think what life would be like if this was advice/everyone followed
There would be no cat, in his hat
No green, grimacing grinch using greasy, grubby, grabbing motions towards our festive season
No Doctor Seuss reason
and logic
Not quite like others but
Undeniable in its kindness/politeness and rightness
I hesitate to mention him as CS Lewis
Has a wealth of essays devoted to him
Been done to death. Surely nothing left/ to say?
But would my imagination exist without a Narnian childhood?
Witch + wardrobe + lion = me and so many
Of us/teaching us/who to trust
That all that glitters isn't gold
The best is often humbled, old
That we must live as children when we can
For when we become full grown man
We cannot see the lion anymore
If we all wrote what we knew...
The grass is green, sky blue
Sea reflects sky
I simply record my
Experiences...
If there is no quest, then there is no rest.
at the end
No satisfaction
After the action
No Hobbits, no ring, no precious, no king
No riddles underground
No minute sound carrying far
No alarm, no tension, no chase, no race, a waste
Of daydreaming. For what else is that for
If not to visit imagination land
A bird in the hand in NOT in my hand, don't you see, it's an allegory, it's a fiction
it's a glorious contradiction
Someone made it up! It's brilliant. See, someone thought a picture
Didn't see it, didn't feel it
Didn't five sense experience it
But sixth sensed it. Imagined it.
That mental image took hold, it bit,
It grabbed hold, he told
Someone
It got old.
Went down in history. Not fact, but his story. Jack-a-fucking-nory
We're all geeks. And that's okay. We don't want real, we have to stay
In real permanently. It's elementary, my dear Watson
That when all is said and done we need escape
A superhero cape, a magic Faraway tree,
People to teach you how to be your very best version of your kind of me
And no, you don't have a wishing chair
Can't sit and see what's not there
But a mind's eye's a great thing
Remember as a child you used to just... swing?
In the park, let the breeze blow through you
Made up little songs in a high not-quite-there voice
Wanting to be left alone to create, to contemplate
Go to your room and try to practice
Stretching the glorious elasticity of your mind
Trying to move mountains
Trying to ford streams
Imagining your thoughts as beams of light
Imagining trying to lift objects, it's your little project
It's your little secret
And there's no-one to tell as no-one will keep it
Until a book keeps it
Until a book explains
Until there's telekineses
and all these other fancy names
Until there's paranormal wackery
Ghosts rattle their click-clackery chains and moan and groan
And you're alone under the covers and loving it, every bit
So you have bad dreams but they're not bad really
They're future plotlines, you note them down meticulously
You write about the elephant, you write about the secret ring
You write about his shoes, about all kinds of things
And they're set in the real world, sort of, but an idealised kind
There's no kitchen sink drama, this is from a higher mind
You've found a way to unlock the door
Between the dreams and the ether-stuff
You feisty little Hufflepuff
Keep on keeping on
You're going to write for a long, long time...
My point, if I had one, is in there somewhere
I digress, constant reader but if you can go there
Go, to the Tower with Roland of the Eld
Stay until you've had your fill and if you do not hear the bell
Don't worry
There'll be another, and another
Life's like that
And another
Life encroaches, as it will
Toys until it has its fill
Then it ends
so bring your friends
and give your thanks
To Eeyore! Jane and Michael Banks
Sparrowhawk, Jack Dawkins
Hundred acre wood
The little engine that could!
And dream.
Write what you know? I don't think so!
Here are the words, as I know some people like to read instead of listen.
The worst piece of advice anyone ever got
was ‘write what you know’
Write what you know?
I know grocery shopping, and bus hopping
I know traffic light waiting and internet dating
I know nights in with my cat
You want to read about that?
No!
Think what life would be like if this was advice/everyone followed
There would be no cat, in his hat
No green, grimacing grinch using greasy, grubby, grabbing motions towards our festive season
No Doctor Seuss reason
and logic
Not quite like others but
Undeniable in its kindness/politeness and rightness
I hesitate to mention him as CS Lewis
Has a wealth of essays devoted to him
Been done to death. Surely nothing left/ to say?
But would my imagination exist without a Narnian childhood?
Witch + wardrobe + lion = me and so many
Of us/teaching us/who to trust
That all that glitters isn't gold
The best is often humbled, old
That we must live as children when we can
For when we become full grown man
We cannot see the lion anymore
If we all wrote what we knew...
The grass is green, sky blue
Sea reflects sky
I simply record my
Experiences...
If there is no quest, then there is no rest.
at the end
No satisfaction
After the action
No Hobbits, no ring, no precious, no king
No riddles underground
No minute sound carrying far
No alarm, no tension, no chase, no race, a waste
Of daydreaming. For what else is that for
If not to visit imagination land
A bird in the hand in NOT in my hand, don't you see, it's an allegory, it's a fiction
it's a glorious contradiction
Someone made it up! It's brilliant. See, someone thought a picture
Didn't see it, didn't feel it
Didn't five sense experience it
But sixth sensed it. Imagined it.
That mental image took hold, it bit,
It grabbed hold, he told
Someone
It got old.
Went down in history. Not fact, but his story. Jack-a-fucking-nory
We're all geeks. And that's okay. We don't want real, we have to stay
In real permanently. It's elementary, my dear Watson
That when all is said and done we need escape
A superhero cape, a magic Faraway tree,
People to teach you how to be your very best version of your kind of me
And no, you don't have a wishing chair
Can't sit and see what's not there
But a mind's eye's a great thing
Remember as a child you used to just... swing?
In the park, let the breeze blow through you
Made up little songs in a high not-quite-there voice
Wanting to be left alone to create, to contemplate
Go to your room and try to practice
Stretching the glorious elasticity of your mind
Trying to move mountains
Trying to ford streams
Imagining your thoughts as beams of light
Imagining trying to lift objects, it's your little project
It's your little secret
And there's no-one to tell as no-one will keep it
Until a book keeps it
Until a book explains
Until there's telekineses
and all these other fancy names
Until there's paranormal wackery
Ghosts rattle their click-clackery chains and moan and groan
And you're alone under the covers and loving it, every bit
So you have bad dreams but they're not bad really
They're future plotlines, you note them down meticulously
You write about the elephant, you write about the secret ring
You write about his shoes, about all kinds of things
And they're set in the real world, sort of, but an idealised kind
There's no kitchen sink drama, this is from a higher mind
You've found a way to unlock the door
Between the dreams and the ether-stuff
You feisty little Hufflepuff
Keep on keeping on
You're going to write for a long, long time...
My point, if I had one, is in there somewhere
I digress, constant reader but if you can go there
Go, to the Tower with Roland of the Eld
Stay until you've had your fill and if you do not hear the bell
Don't worry
There'll be another, and another
Life's like that
And another
Life encroaches, as it will
Toys until it has its fill
Then it ends
so bring your friends
and give your thanks
To Eeyore! Jane and Michael Banks
Sparrowhawk, Jack Dawkins
Hundred acre wood
The little engine that could!
And dream.
Write what you know? I don't think so!