"Us Two" by A. A. Milne

 

Wherever I am, there's always Pooh,
There's always Pooh and Me.
Whatever I do, he wants to do,
"Where are you going today?" says Pooh:
"Well, that's very odd 'cos I was too.
Let's go together," says Pooh, says he.
"Let's go together," says Pooh.

"What's twice eleven?" I said to Pooh.
("Twice what?" said Pooh to Me.)
"I think it ought to be twenty-two."
"Just what I think myself," said Pooh.
"It wasn't an easy sum to do,
But that's what it is," said Pooh, said he.
"That's what it is," said Pooh.

"Let's look for dragons," I said to Pooh.
"Yes, let's," said Pooh to Me.
We crossed the river and found a few-
"Yes, those are dragons all right," said Pooh.
"As soon as I saw their beaks I knew.
That's what they are," said Pooh, said he.
"That's what they are," said Pooh.

"Let's frighten the dragons," I said to Pooh.
"That's right," said Pooh to Me.
"I'm not afraid," I said to Pooh,
And I held his paw and I shouted "Shoo!
Silly old dragons!"- and off they flew.

"I wasn't afraid," said Pooh, said he,
"I'm never afraid with you."

So wherever I am, there's always Pooh,
There's always Pooh and Me.
"What would I do?" I said to Pooh,
"If it wasn't for you," and Pooh said: "True,
It isn't much fun for One, but Two,
Can stick together, says Pooh, says he. "That's how it is," says Pooh.

 

Winnie the Pooh is a beloved childhood nostalgia hit for me. I loved the poetry by A A Milne and its easy, flowing style. It takes a lot of work to get rhyme to flow so easily and naturally from the pen. :) 

But also it's an important thing to remember, sticking together is good. We can make the world better when we are not alone. 

Kia Kaha and happy Tuesday Poem flashback. :) 

A.J.

 

P.S. my A.A. Milne poems are here:My Minion, almost in the style of A A Milne's Market Square & Now We Are Old and Cynical.

My other posted A.A. Milne poems are here:The King's Breakfast as recited by Julie Andrews and Stephen Colbert, Teddy Bear, 

Happy Birthday in a Minor Key and other assorted humorous poetry by Bill Bailey

 

Bill Bailey happens to be one of my favourite comedians. 

And no, I haven't shared everything he's done here, but this is special because today is my birthday. And also because he starts this segment with two short poems. 

And they're great. Not because they are wonderful poetry or anything like that, it's because one of his most impressive features is that he always knows just how to finish a work. It's sublime.

So, I thought as today is my birthday, I'd start it off with this lovely birthday song, enhanced by the sweet melancholy of the minor key. 

(NB: original recording was taken down.)

Okay, maybe it's not that sweet. But it kinda is.

And that's because of the ending. After getting progressively bleaker, the twist is hilarious. And there's something to be said for a nihilistic lack of sugar coating, or dare I say a furniture-chewing Grinch. It might be just me, but I find it uplifting.  

So  happy 'meaningless milestone of decay' to me!!!! :) 

Have a great day, everyone

A.J. 

If you like this you may also like:

Tim Minchin's F- the Poor (For musical comedy) 

Or the slightly ore uplifting milestone poem: An Affliction of Poetry: Running away with a Christmas Sonnet

Or if you like reversals, you may enjoy: A Sonnet to the Muse. 

The King's Breakfast as recited by Julie Andrews and Stephen Colbert

I just love AA Milne's poems. 
I think anyone who's followed this blog knows that...so when I saw this video, I just had to share it :)
I hope you enjoy. Also, the words are at the bottom now that they're out of copyright, so you can read along! :) 

Have fun, and if you're anything like me, you'll be reciting the words of the King's Breakfast along with Julie Andrews and Stephen Colbert.

Thanks for dropping by,
A.J. Ponder

PS, now it's out of copyright officially, here it is, the poem in full. 

The King's Breakfast

The King asked
The Queen, and
The Queen asked
The Dairymaid:
"Could we have some butter for
The Royal slice of bread?"
The Queen asked the Dairymaid,
The Dairymaid
Said, "Certainly,
I'll go and tell the cow
Now
Before she goes to bed."

The Dairymaid
She curtsied,
And went and told
The Alderney:
"Don't forget the butter for
The Royal slice of bread."
The Alderney
Said sleepily:
"You'd better tell
His Majesty
That many people nowadays
Like marmalade
Instead."

The Dairymaid
Said, "Fancy!"
And went to
Her Majesty.
She curtsied to the Queen, and
She turned a little red:
"Excuse me,
Your Majesty,
For taking of
The liberty,
But marmalade is tasty, if
It's very
Thickly
Spread."

The Queen said
"Oh!:
And went to
His Majesty:
"Talking of the butter for
The royal slice of bread,
Many people
Think that
Marmalade
Is nicer.
Would you like to try a little
Marmalade
Instead?"

The King said,
"Bother!"
And then he said,
"Oh, deary me!"
The King sobbed, "Oh, deary me!"
And went back to bed.
"Nobody,"
He whimpered,
"Could call me
A fussy man;
I only want
A little bit
Of butter for
My bread!"

The Queen said,
"There, there!"
And went to
The Dairymaid.
The Dairymaid
Said, "There, there!"
And went to the shed.
The cow said,
"There, there!
I didn't really
Mean it;
Here's milk for his porringer,
And butter for his bread."

The Queen took
The butter
And brought it to
His Majesty;
The King said,
"Butter, eh?"
And bounced out of bed.
"Nobody," he said,
As he kissed her
Tenderly,
"Nobody," he said,
As he slid down the banisters,
"Nobody,
My darling,
Could call me
A fussy man -
BUT
I do like a little bit of butter to my bread!"

If you enjoy AA Milne's poems you may also love Teddy Bear. :) 

An Epic Quest

 While I've been out having an epic fantasy quest of my own (pictures below - including sword fighting!) , there's been a so much happening in the world of poetry, book releases and more.

While I've been distracted, Tim Jones has released his latest book New Sea Land available from Makaro Press and so has Keith Westwater, releasing No One Home: A Boyhood Memoir in Letters and Poems .  And that's not even including Bonsai : Best Small Stories From Aotearoa New Zealand,which has some great little stories and prose poems by a range of literary authors. It was fun to see so many familiar and new faces at the launch, I was almost sad not to have subbed, but authors have to choose their projects, and I choose fun. Take a look at the pictures of my launch of Quest and say I chose wrong!

It was lovely to see so many wonderful friends, fans and fellow writers at my book launch for Quest. It was epic, so thank you all, and here are some pictures from the launch. I'm looking forward to seeing even more authors next month when Eileen Mueller launches her book Ezaara, because it won't clash with the biggest NZSA event of the year (oops!)

Have fun,
A.J. Ponder

And if you like fantasy and having fun check out the article It's a World of Fantasy on Scoop or buy a copy of my book Quest, it's at a low opening price that is unlikely to be repeated so get one now - before checking out the last two pictures of the Company of the Dragons sword fighting during the launch of Quest. :) 

 (Available to buy on Rona Gallery, Children's Bookshop or Arty Bees, Wardini with personalised signed copies available from Rona Gallery if you ask. To find out more follow this link to "Quest" on my author website.

The Power of Poetry - At The Edge

I cannot tell you about the way
words writhe,
only let you feel
their power

to deceive
to comfort
to take the path

Buy At the Edge RonaGallery or Amazon

you shouldn't want
to take

I cannot tell you about the way
words fall,
only let you see
the ground
far below

and still
you jump,
we all do -
or we cower at the edge
and fall
anyway


I cannot tell you what to do,
but the only way
to stop falling
is to fight -

until you hit the ground


A.J. Ponder

okay, this poem was begun quite some time ago, but like many poems lacked the middle and the end, which came to me at last, and so I've finally managed to finish a poem I began over a month ago now.

It possibly helps that At the Edge, the collection I'm in, has just been released.  And the title just fit perfectly into the poem.  At the Edge is edited by Lee Murray and Dan Rabarts and contains my short story BlindSight, which I believe is well worth a read and was described as eloquent (or near enough) in this review www.mariannedepierres.com/review-at-the-edge-by-dan-rabarts-and-lee-murray-eds

So why not pick up a copy at Rona Gallery?  All things going well, I'll release an extract next week, so watch out for it! :)

Have fun,
A.J.

Fairy Song by John Keats

I.

Shed no tear! oh, shed no tear!
The flower will bloom another year.
Weep no more! oh, weep no more!
Young buds sleep in the root's white core.
Dry your eyes! oh, dry your eyes!
For I was taught in Paradise
To ease my breast of melodies,--
Shed no tear.

Overhead! look overhead!
'Mong the blossoms white and red--
Look up, look up! I flutter now
On this fresh pomegranate bough.
See me! 'tis this silvery bill
Ever cures the good man's ill.
Shed no tear! oh, shed no tear!
The flower will bloom another year.
Adieu, adieu -- I fly -- adieu!
I vanish in the heaven’s blue,--
Adieu, adieu!

II.
Ah! woe is me! poor silver-wing!
That I must chant thy lady's dirge,
And death to this fair haunt of spring,
Of melody, and streams of flowery verge,--
Poor silver-wing! ah! woe is me!
That I must see
These blossoms snow upon thy lady's pall!
Go, pretty page! and in her ear
Whisper that the hour is near!
Softly tell her not to fear
Such calm favonian burial!
Go, pretty page! and soothly tell,--
The blossoms hang by a melting spell,
And fall they must, ere a star wink thrice
Upon her closed eyes,
That now in vain are weeping their last tears,
At sweet life leaving, and these arbours green,--
Rich dowry from the Spirit of the Spheres,
Alas! poor Queen!

And if this isn't enough Fairy Poetry For you, why not go here to my Portal to Fairy Tale Poetry here, and find some of the best Fairy poetry there is.

A.J.

Find my stories and support my writing on ko-fi 

And tell me which poems you'd like to see in my upcoming poetry book—2024? https://ko-fi.com/ajponder

Tuesday Poem: Poetry for Beginners by Surfing the Web. A.J. Ponder.

Poetry for Beginners, by Surfing the Web

Reading poetry well is part attitude 
and part technique
So, here we are, our first lesson.

Prepositions
After all isn't grammar
what poetry is all about?

Actively seek inspiration
from under your desk,
I suggest folding the
13 Ways of Looking Exercise
into a dart-
and watch it fly

You need not make sense or unify
your thoughts
Time this step for 2 minutes.

So, now your teacher has turned the other way,
retrieve the dart
and remember,
poetry
is as much about subversion
as schooling.

Lost in the Museum, to be released 26/04/14

A.J. Ponder

 
Go on, rebel a little, and enjoy the poetry this week on the
Tuesday Poem Hub  ;)

P.S. Lost in the museum now available on Amazon here

Apologies, Tuesday was greatly missed - unlike this piece of Vogon Poetry

I know it's very nearly almost Friday - but I do want to apologise to all my regular readers for not managing my usual weekly post on Tuesday.  Not even a piece of fluff.

The people who know me will have heard that my son is having a tough time at the moment.  Well, last weekend and through to Tuesday were scary bad.  Fortunately for no apparent reason at all he's been better the last couple of days, but I've got to the point where my brain can't do much more than make it through the day.  So please excuse the "wibble"  and contemplate the vagaries of the universe, but let me assure you - normal service will be resumed as soon as I figure out what normal is....

In the meantime...

Oh freddled gruntbuggly,

Thy micturitions are to me,

As plurdled gabbleblotchits,

On a lurgid bee,

That mordiously hath bitled out,

Its earted jurtles,

Into a rancid festering confectious inner-sphincter. [drowned out by moaning and screaming]

Now the jurpling slayjid agrocrustles,

Are slurping hagrilly up the axlegrurts,

And living glupules frart and slipulate,

Like jowling meated liverslime,

Groop, I implore thee, my foonting turling dromes,

And hooptiously drangle me,

With crinkly bindlewurdles,

Or else I shall rend thee in the gobberwarts with my blurglecruncheon,

See if I don't.

by a Vogon (Jeltz)
an extract from Douglas Adam's, Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.

So Don't Panic :) and have a great TGIF and weekend, and hope to catch you all next Tues...

cheers, 

A.J.

A.J. Ponder's books are available through Rona Gallery, Amazon, Paper Plus and good Wellington bookstores.

Tuesday Poem: The Downside to an Earthquake by Emanuel E Garcia

Hello, all my faithful followers!   Yes, I know was meant to be on sabbatical 'til the end of the month - but its worth breaking a sabbatical when a poem like this flies into your radar...
Also I should note, if you like this, you will almost certainly love The Upside to an Earthquake here on my blog.

The Downside to an Earthquake

 

The rumble begins

You wonder just how long it will go on

Before the walls start swaying and

A carelessly placed book falls off a shelf

For the life of you

You can’t remember whether you should

Hide under a table or head for the hills

So you’re stuck in your tracks

Shaking with the thought

That survival’s more important

Than, say, writing poems

Until you come back to your senses

When it stops

That is,

If you have any senses left

Emanuel E. Garcia

July 2013

emanuelegarcia@gmail.com

The rumble begins...

And with it a poem that feels real. 
Wellington has started and stopped quite a bit lately, as the middle of the country has been rocked by quakes.  And we have all discovered Geo Net, (somewhat after the Christchurch folk) so that in the moments after a quake we can quantify it, put it at rest, and return to our senses.

About the Author:

Emanuel E Garcia is an author and physician who resides in Eastbourne. His most recent book, "Twenty-Four Caprices for Violin," is a collection of whimsical, fantastic, poignant, macabre and capricious tales, each of which features the violin. Set in wide-ranging locations and milieux, from Vienna to Nashville, Florence to New York, Venice to New Zealand, they capture the bittersweet and ridiculous nature of human follies — romance, repression, vanity, fidelity, ugliness, adultery, mischief, mastery, innocence and betrayal, and is available here at http://mebooks.co.nz/index.php?route=product/product&product_id=485 for only $2.99.

I was treated to a number of these stories at a reading at Rona Gallery, and they really did all the things the blurb says.  Unexpectedly fun, given there wasn't a single spaceship. Not even a wizard— unless you count the multitalented Emanuel E. Garcia himself.

... and just a reminder the poem's sequel, The Upside to an Earthquake is here :) 

cheers,
A.J.

A.J. Ponder's books are available through Rona Gallery, Amazon, Paper Plus and good Wellington bookstores.

The Cold Truth

dead men stare
with open eyes
(O)     (O)
they cannot see
and you
likewise

A.J. Ponder


The cold truth was brought to you by a very young cynic. Grown into an older one.
Again after twenty odd years, thought I'd better actually claim this one - before somebody else does - if they haven't already - can't imagine I'm the only one who thought of it!
Sorry Hells, I do have some cheery poetry, but I'm saving that for the dead of winter :)

And damn - but it's annoying how it keeps loosing the gaps between the eyes. It's a very squinty skull!


Yes, this is a reblog from over two years ago - I can't believe I've been running  "An Affliction" for so long - but there you are. 

So, to business, lots of exciting writing projects are happening right now, I'd better get on with them, but not before wishing you all the best with your endeavours, 

A.J.
 
A.J. Ponder's books are available through Rona Gallery, Amazon, Paper Plus and good Wellington bookstores.

Ode to the World Cup while doing the Washing

Let the men kick pigskin.

For what is it about life

that cannot be learnt

out on the field?

Take it on the chin

after all everyone wants a knock-out.

Show no mercy

it's always in short supply.

Take the opposition down -

go for the legs:

Below the belt is always the best way

to trip someone up.

Kiss butt

and team together,

run with the pack

or get eaten

I mean beaten.

With shades of running into a brick wall - and stringing it wide

Let the games begin

Let the All Blacks win

Let the men kick-

pigskin.

A.J. Ponder

I was in fact doing the washing, and in my own terribly unpatriotic way, not particularly looking forward to the world cup - sorry, and yes, for non-New Zealanders, that's the rugby world cup - when some rugby phrases popped into my head.  You can't live here without hearing them.

So then I started thinking about what those phrases might mean and what the broader impact of rugby in the community might be, in a more than slightly unfair way - because where's the impact in being fair?  Besides otherwise I would have mentioned "play hard, play fair" and all the positive features of hosting a world cup.  Like gosh, wasn't Wales v. South Africa a great match?  And all the wonderful visitors dropping in from all around the world.  OK fine.  I hope everyone has a great time, enjoys the rugby, and remembers that taking it on the chin is actually a great expression - so long as some idiot (sorry, that was me) doesn't decide to take it literally.

So have fun, and remember the best way to watch the word cup is from another room ;) - Preferably with the computer set to check out the poems on my blog ;)

A.J. Ponder

Find my stories and support my writing on ko-fi 

And tell me which poems you'd like to see in my upcoming poetry book—2024? https://ko-fi.com/ajponder

It's New Zealand Poetry Day! But I'm not celebrating until Sunday.

It's New Zealand Poetry day and so quite a few of the New Zealand Poets have blogged on the Tuesday Poem blog , also Booksellers has got a great site for poetry events - there's all sorts of things going on, it's amazing, Beattie's site mentions an Auckland event, almost everyone seems to have joined in on the fun.  Of course I'm laying low today, no poetry on my mind at all except for the Rona Gallery Writers on Sunday Event, this Sunday because it is with the wonderful Jo Thorpe and some of our wonderful Wellington and Eastbourne, poets, authors and writers. See the event here 
at Eventfinder - which also has a number of other Poetry events over the country, both today and over the weekend - so enjoy the day everybody with a song in your heart and a poem in your head. also I found this great tongue in cheek blog, really bad poetry with critiques and rating systems for poems where F is run of the mill bad and A+ is terrifyingly bad - I'm sure if I look hard enough I can find at least some B-'s amongst my slush!  Maybe some A+'s ... 



Yes, there was a poem here, but it was in construction and now has been taken down.  Cheers.

A.J. Ponder's work is available through Rona Gallery, Amazon, and good Wellington bookstores

For Whome the Bell Tolls, the old and the new.

Devotions on Emergent Occasions by John Donne
Now, this bell tolling for another, says to me, thou must die

 ...No man is an Iland, intire of it selfe; 

every man is a peece of the Continent, 

a part of the maine; 

if a Clod bee washed away by the Sea, 

Europe is the lesse, 

as well as if a Promontorie were, 

as well as if a Mannor of thy friends

or of thine owne were; 

any mans death diminishes me, 

because I am involved in Mankinde; 

And therefore never send to know 

for whom the bell tolls; 

It tolls for thee...

Not originally written as a poem but part of a longer segment of prose, this scholarly piece of religious writing has taken on a life of its own. It's hard to think of it as anything other than a poem, although of course it has spawned more literary writing than could possibly be searched on google.  It of course spawned the very famous book For Whom the Bell Tolls (Ernest Hemingway 1940) about Robert Jordan, a young American in the Spanish Civil War. Which of course led to another piece of "poetry" one that is even more famous than the other two, if google is to be believed.

But wait.  First - how did I find out about these pieces of writing?  I'm poorly educated in literature, after all school taught me literature is boring, there's no plot, and quite frankly honest I have the attention span best suited to children's books. The answer is of course, Metallica.  I knew nothing about Bells or tolling until I heard their song and in fact I dare say most people my age or younger would be the same.

 So here I am, about to be subversive.  I've heard that poets are.  Let's say that Metallica not only write poetry, but they are bloody good at it.  Almost undoubtedly the "real" Metallica fans would run screaming from the idea of poetry.  And to be fair, poets would run screaming from the idea of Metallica.  So now that I've annoyed pretty much everyone, and you're the only person reading, hopefully nobody will mind if I post a wee section of the lyrics up -- 

"...all is gone

except the will to be
Now they see what will be, 

blinded eyes to see

For whom the Bell Tolls..."

Burton, Clifford Lee; Hetfield, James Alan; Ulrich, Lars

If you want more, then google is your friend - although non metal-heads beware there's about two and a half minutes of guitar before the lyrics actually kick in. Which is ok if you like that sort of thing.  And I do.  Enough to go to their concert last year and be blown away by everybody from grannies to children exposed to lyrics that had a good deal of literary input.  In fact why don't I annoy a few more people and say Metallica are a bit like Shakespeare in terms of coalescing well known fragments of literature into a new whole designed entirely for the masses.

 

So all these people are being exposed to fragments of literature including a religious devotion whose essence was that when one person dies, we are the lesser; the importance of trust and following one's heart in "Nothing Else Matters," the complex lullabye "Enter Sandman" (I particularly love the Never Never Land reference, but the lyrics also encompass an old fashioned prayer, and use it in a delightfully sinister way.)  Magical is it not?  And these fragments are bound together by someone who has the ability to play with language at a level that is far more than skin deep.  This is the essence of poetry, is it not?  Albeit poetry produced with a sense of drama I as a writer have not even aspired to -- the music, the special effects, the sense of occasion, millions of fans pouring over the words to gather meaning, to find solace in their lives, deal with addiction, and identify with the emotions.  In fact I decided I should follow their example, and so for my next poetry reading there will be...

lasers and jets of fire... 

It'll be great. 

So there we have it, I dare you to take my hand...off to Never Never Land.  Peter Pan, Captain Hook and all the back Metallica tee-shirted lost-boys are probably still there, in the mosh pit almost a year later, and they're unlikely to come back either.  They had too much fun - with... poetry - and unabashed showmanship.  It might not be pretty, it might not be the best literature ever, but it is exciting.  And I dare say For Whom the Bell Tolls will inspire many others to read, write, listen and enjoy.

Cheers,

A.J. Ponder

(and yes this is a re-hash from something I wrote last year so I hope it's not too disjointed, but I'm always fascinated by how ideas move through different mediums, and how different shape and form can bring new meaning while still, to some extent, holding onto the old.  It also turned into a rather interesting conversation where - desperate to prove me wrong - Michael started naming Metallica songs he thought wouldn't be very poetical.  He had to stop himself - twice - before getting to a couple which we all agreed had no poetical merit - but by then he had rather proved the point.)

A.J. Ponder's work is available through Rona Gallery, Amazon, and good Wellington bookstores

Remember, Remember the Babes in the Wood

I was busy murdering babies

As you do

The cherub grins

Gone.

The sapphire-eyed,

Dark skinned,

Beauties --

All dead.

It's enough to make a writer cry.

It's enough

To make

You throw away the pen

Tear apart the keyboard,

Key,

By stinking key

But, 
my babies,

I loved your family

just enough

To see you die

Forgotten,

Unloved.

Your silent tears

Echoing through

To your brothers

And sisters,

As they hang their heads

Onto the bloodied page

And weep.

There's a common author expression. "Murder your darlings" or sometimes "kill your darlings" And no, it's not about the characters. It's about our words. As authors we love our words, but sometimes they just don't fit the longer piece we were planning to put them into—and what that means for writers is that just because you've written a nice piece of prose it doesn't mean it should stay in your writing. If it doesn't fit, no matter how pretty, it should be cut. 

And that's tough. But in the end your writing will be better. But more than that, the emotional impact will be all the stronger for having written and then cut that delightful bit of prose.

Happy writing authors, and happy reading readers,

 A.J. Ponder - author page

 

Find my stories and support my writing on ko-fi 

And tell me which poems you'd like to see in my upcoming poetry book—2024? https://ko-fi.com/ajponder