I caught this morning…

…fishing for poems and I caught this.  Doing a lot of writing this morning, mostly prose but some poems are breaking the surface as well.  Lots of lovely Proustian memories coming up – and some nasty ones lurking beneath the waters.

This is an attempt to do a Wendy Cope (I posted the link before, to I am a Poet and I am very fond of bananas)

on a couple of lines.


I know what I think

about the poems


I think I know


the poem’s about


the poem’s about

think, know

I, I,

– what?


I know, I think about

the poem’s what


What – I? I?

think?  Know?

about the poems?


Poems about

I think, I know

– what the – ?


The thing starts with certainty and finishes with a suitable degree of bewilderment.  A nice antidote to the previous ego poem – you start by thinking you know what you’re going to say, what the poem’s about, and end by realising that you (“You” meaning the ego, the conscious, rational self) don’t have a clue.

“Without a clue” – there’s an echo of an Earl Birney poem – oh, yes

“Poet-trees lack any clue

they just need me

and maybe you”


Read and enjoy!

Here I am

This is the poem that ego wrote.  An idea comes to you, and the ego bustles in  like Rabbit and says, Right!  I see where we are going with this.  Al you other chaps get out of the way: you’re not qualified.  I  alone  am qualified to do this.  You can sit there and watch.  But be quiet.  so this is it.  The  poem that ego wrote.  Please post comments saying how brilliant it is.

Cogito Ego Sum

One and one is me

two and two is you

(and me is three)

four and four’s a mint

eight and eight is sweet

sixteen thrity-two

was it Peterloo?

now I’m sixty-four

still need to feed the poor

one hundred twenty-eight

too late: here lies

my fate.

See?  See how ego imposed a pattern and made the whole thing lame?  The only thing that matters is to listen to the voice.  The voice of your voice.

Still I thought the title was quite good.  If I were more inclined towards the eighteenth century I could put in something about leaving out Reason and what’s left is ego.  Still I don’t believe this.  Or not quite.

Enjoy your day!

If you can’t enjoy it, accept it

if you can’t accept it, change it

If you can’t change it

don’t ask me

I don’t know what

I’m supposed to be.