The Apprentice Poet
¶ 1
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That’s me!
Even after many years
of trying
(throw in a rhyme)
and crying
¶ 2
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TV – in the corner
remote control
2 many choices
2 many voices
so compromise –
we flick
back and forth
¶ 3
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I want
the heart
the soul
the history
the mystery
of poetry
¶ 4
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They want
the instant gratification
of winner
and loser
espoused
by Sir Alan Sugar
in The Apprentice
¶ 5
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I want
the forward Motion
that is Andrew
and the perverse notion
that rhythm and metre
doesn’t just peeter
away
because it’s football
¶ 6
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I want
to see how
the odes, the sonnets the haiku
can uplift
¶ 7
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Not the backstabbing
of the Sugar substitutes
with saccharin swords
¶ 8
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I want
to hear
Football poets / poetry
accredited
¶ 9
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But Griff Rhys Jones
is like Chris Iwelumo …
the goal is gaping
yawning like a chasm
and the miss
is remembered still
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