We’re All Pundits Now

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Here and there
they’re everywhere.
in-line, online
abusive, benign
in blurred newsprint
and excused misprint

Twittering away
face–booking their wisdoms
casual gurus
proffering help
offering opinion

Pointing their gun
complaining about how it was done
Gogglebox savants
of limited talents
displaying their predictive powers
from their remote ivory towers
deriding what they saw
laying down their cod law
always knowing better
down to the letter

Seeing through the haze
configuring the maze
arm’s length judgement
posing as sentiment

Sports star, celebrity
politician, nonentity
Academic or Bystander
give us candour or slander
cook, medic, dancer
do give us your answer
please feed us your views
comment on the news

Yes, obligatory opinions
on everything
on everyone
by everyone
for everyone


Don’t tell me to keep quiet
I can’t hear you
constructive deafness
selective amnes
ia

We need pundits and experts
but please play it fair
most are mere wannabes
balloons in the air

Onomatopoeia

onomat

Onomatopoeia

 

Muck, that is a dirty word,
It sounds as if it smells;
A word to wash one’s hands of,
Its very sound repels.

Loony leaves a nasty taste,
Slides smoothly off the tongue,
But it is not nice, take my advice,
A word to leave unsung.

Slime is such another,
And slimy is the same,
Words to keep away from,
Ones I won’t exclaim.

Take words like boos and booze,
To me they are repugnant.
They may describe one’s feelings,
But they smack of poor judgement.

They’re onomatopoeic,
Not exactly slang’
But they lack that sense of candour,
Like boom and thump and bang.

So many words are wholesome,
Sweet sounding and pure.
But some words are not tasty,
Rude, uncouth and immature.

 

bar3

No Nonsense Now

If you were defeated in trying to make sense of my last published ‘poem’
(‘GO WITH THE FLOW’ on Monday 18th November), my meaning, if it had any, is hopefully disclosed in my poem, ‘No Nonsense Now’,  below . . .

‘A Poem should not mean

But be’     .  .  .  .  .  .  .   From ‘Ars Poetica’ by Archibald Macleish

 
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Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

No Nonsense Now

 

What a load of nonsense
what a stream of tosh
I hope you weren’t too stretched
devouring all the text
wondering what was coming next
searching for meanings that were not there
twiddling thumbs
tearing hair

Just stream of consciousness unleashed
roaming the mind
making free with the world of words
fishing from a goldfish bowl of ideas
draining the well till empty
and all invention ceased

Perhaps I did a service
reminding my poetic muse
that words alone
do not atone
for laxity of thought
or those too easily wrought

And sense is only sensible
when verse is finely honed
bolstered with truth
taut of structure
worthy of my judgement
and of your time

 

BluLine