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Monday, July 17, 2017

FISHDUCKY; THE DUCK, THE MYTH, THE LEGEND, PART 6


THE WOULD-BE POET


(This is one of a series of my earliest & most popular posts.  This was originally published July, 2012.  As always, all the cartoons are new.)




I’m telling you quite honestly


I’d love to write fine poetry.


I’d show such versatility


that everyone would honor me.


The words would come forth trippingly


as if they had a melody.


I’d write of plants; of rose and tree.


I’d be a big celebrity!


I’d write of kings and royalty


and I’d discuss humanity.


I’d write of love so wistfully,


of sadness and of joie de vie


And I would do this masterfully.


            I’d lecture universally.


I’d do this work unselfishly


(though I’d accept gratuities).


 So let me add, in summary,


I’d gain much popularity.


My poems loved so zealously


that  publishers would say to me,


“Write more!”  They’d beg me fervently


for poems to fill their glossaries.


They’d organize parades; you’d see


me waving at fans jauntily.


The crowds, no longer orderly,


would clamor with intensity.


The President would say, pleadingly,


“Our Poet Laureate you have to be!”


I would decline, quite modestly.


This could become insanity.


I’d have to write incessantly,


If I were to act accordingly.


There would be no more time for me


to sit and daydream lazily.


I’d be pressured overwhelmingly


to keep up this activity.


I’d hear “Please write!” repeatedly


‘til writer’s cramp took hold of me.


My brain would start to atrophy.


No one would want to be with me.


My friends, is this my destiny?


Why, in this great democracy,


Should talent push relentlessly


and rob me of my dignity?


And so I ask you, tearfully,


            is that the way it has to be


If I could write as beautifully


as I had wished for previously?


My literary wizardry


might just attack me fatally!


I’ve thought this thing out carefully


and realize the absurdity


Of living my life tragically


if I could write great poetry.





With apologies to humankind,


I fear that someday I would find


My nerves all tangled in a bind


which I, (poor soul) could not unwind,


So--never mind!




















----the lucky, plucky (& I hope not schmucky) fishducky