## Monday, July 20, 2009

Dear Quizitor,

You tell me

 I am the sonnet, never quickly thrilled;Not prone to overstated gushing praiseNor yet to seething rants and anger, filledWith 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.
What Poetry Form Are You?

or failing that,

 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 aimedTowards 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 notBe bothered - so I drift contentedly;An underrated way of life, I find.

A couple years ago, you told me instead

 If they told you I'm mad, then they lied.I'm odd, but it isn't compulsive.I'm the triolet, bursting with pride;If they told you I'm mad, then they lied.No, it isn't obsessive. Now hideAll the spoons or I might get convulsive.If they told you I'm mad then they lied.I'm odd, but it isn't compulsive.

of which, of course, I can produce no evidence; but I'm not quite sure what to make of the shift. Perhaps I'm become more staid in my preference for 62-storey drop-subjects! Who knows?

But what I most want to know is ... where can I get some of those cream buns?

some guy, who, while largely pedestrian, is fond enough of versifers