Thursday, September 10, 2009

A Poem A Day #13

This month so far, at least for me, seems to be governed by a strange serendipity. There are people I've met, places I've wound up going, people I keep running into, weird instances of chance that seem to be ruling my life even more than usual lately.

When these things happen, I like it best to just go with them. Often they lead to even more strange and interesting things. Thus the genesis of today's column.

My most recent facebook status is: John is wandering and wondering. This is facebook status chaff, a pleasant placeholder until I have something worthwhile to say, but it led to an excellently serendipitous email from friend and fellow drummer Steve Scott. Steve had a story about a poet from Birmingham discussing his feelings about the loss of wonder in our society at a local reading a couple months ago, and this fellow's poem on the subject.

Steve also included the following clever bit of humorous verse of his own, his response to the situation above, and a fine example of the kind of straightforward popular ballad verse that I think has had a mostly unfair snubbing by the New Critics of the 20th century and beyond.


My wife has said, she wanted me to see,

The Columbus Live Poet, Society.

They’re learned folks, from all around

Including six “experts” from out of town

“Our wonder hath wandered,” quoth a cryptic man,

A goateed Sage from Birmingham.

After endless wonderment of misspent youth,

From wonder, we now remain aloof.

His words rang true! Everything he said,

and set up fresh wondering, in my head.

In youth I’d spy a twinkling star,

And wonder aloud, “just what you are?”

Now with aches and gray hair flowing,

I wonder just, where am I going.

I wonder ‘bout the stars above,

I wonder who?, wrote the “Book of Love.”

I mourn the loss of Pepsodent,

And wonder where the yellow went.

With so much wondering in my head,

I’m even wondering, ‘bout Wonder Bread.

And I guess it’d be, a social blunder,

Not to ponder, about Stevie Wonder

I listen to these poems profound,

Witty, sophisticated, urbane, uptown.

And from all this wondering, one thing comes clear,

Just what the hell, am I doing here?

- Steve Scott

Tomorrow: well, who knows what we'll have tomorrow?

Legal notice:
Some may feel that the inclusion of works not in the public domain is a violation of the fair-use doctrine of US copyright law. I obviously do not agree, but I will gladly defer to the wishes of the rightsholder, and if anyone wishes for a post of their work or work for which they own the intellectual rights to be taken down, they may ask for its removal and it will be so. I claim no ownership and have no rights as to the works I will be posting, save for any that were written by me.

No comments: