Sunday, December 14, 2003 12:07:38 AM
I am, of course, none other than blank verse. I don't know where I`m going, yes, quite right; And when I get there (if I ever do) I might not recognise it. So? Your point? Why should I have a destination set? I`m relatively happy as I am, And wouldn`t want to be forever aimed Towards some future path or special goal. It`s not to do with laziness, as such. It`s just that one the whole I`d rather not Be bothered - so I drift contentedly; An underrated way of life, I find.
Saturday, December 13, 2003 8:35:20 PM
I am the sonnet, never quickly thrilled; Not prone to overstated gushing praise Nor yet to seething rants and anger, filled With overstretched opinions to rephrase; But on the other hand, not fond of fools, And thus, not fond of people, on the whole; And holding to the sound and useful rules, Not those that seek unjustified control. I'm balanced, measured, sensible (at least, I think I am, and usually I`m right); And when more ostentatious types have ceased, I`m still around, and doing, still, alright. In short, I`m calm and rational and stable - Or, well, I am, as much as I am able.
Tuesday, December 9, 2003 6:24:21 PM
I know I should be telling you that I'm A rubai - but perhaps some other time. It sounds like work, and anyway, it`s late - Unless I sleep, I`ll be too tired to rhyme.
Besides, there`s plates to clear and cups to clink, And when that`s done I have to sit and think, Since then it won`t be long before I need To sleep again and eat again and drink.
Then it says, if you were not a Rubai, you`d be a haiku.