The Quirky Life of P

Humor and satire revolving around Mr P- a fictional mix of an avatar of Mr Bean and the veritable Bertram Wooster of Wodehouse fame.

Oh, to be a Poet………..

(Thought I’d do a hand-me-down post and reblog one of my earlier posts in answer to the Daily Prompt:-Hand-Me-Downs)

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Mr P was excited! He looked at the weekly writing challenge on Daily Post and the theme was Poetry. You had to either compose a poem or write on the topic of poetry.

“Easy Peasy”, thought Mr P.

“What distinguishes poetry from prose?” he wondered as he took up a pen and paper to jot his poetry down.

He racked his brains, and apart from identifying that the lines in poetry were short and rhymed, he could not find many differences. Even with rhyming – (Mr P remembered how he had wandered into a library by chance and had browsed through a modern poetry book) he had not found any rhyme in those poems – let alone reason.

Thirty minutes down the track, with not a single word written, Mr P realised he was stuck. He probably had writer’s block, he thought. Mr P could not pinpoint when it could have started as he could not remember when he had ever written a poem before. “I could have been born with writer’s block!” he presumed.

Despite his frustrations, a few hours later Mr P was proudly reading out his poem, over the fence to his neighbour.

I tried to write poetry

And honestly did I try:

Through the window in front of me,

For inspiration, I eyed the tree;

It was not my Bodhi tree,

Enlightenment didn’t flow in spree.

I looked for answers in the sky

Where a wad of clouds floated by;

No thoughts, no words came wafting down

And I was left looking a clown;

I ogled and googled, all in vain,

Miss Verse was averse, it was plain.

I sipped a glass of drool of moose

And shut my eyes and sat to muse;

I nodded off and fell on the floor,

Knocked my head and back, still sore;

Then Poetry gushed through in galore!

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“Don’t you think I write as well as Shakespeare?” Mr P asked his neighbour who now stood with a deeply pained expression.

“I would think that this would make the Bard of Avon cringe in his grave”, said the neighbour.

“Bird of What? Who is that?” wondered Mr P.


Time for poetry


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11 thoughts on “Oh, to be a Poet………..

  1. Hi!
    Between you and that Mr. Shakespeare
    Little is the difference, it may so appear
    He has been the once-celebrated bard
    And, you be no less, with your beard!
    But the poem you have written above
    Is the one I shall most sincerely love
    As to the difference bet’n you and me
    See my blog, and say to me, “Yammy!”


  2. Born with writer’s block eh… 😀 the words are pretty rhyming Mr. P for someone with a born writer’s block 😉


  3. Reblogged this on The Quirky Life of P and commented:

    Thought I’d do a hand-me-down post and reblog one of my earlier posts in answer to the Daily Prompt:-Hand-Me-Downs


  4. Pingback: Daily Prompt: Hand-Me-Downs | tnkerr-Writing Prompts and Practice

  5. Mr. P is totally delightful!


  6. Pingback: Hand-me-down Birthday | Cancer Isn't Pink

  7. Pingback: Guest Post – A Special Short Story Written by Helena Hann-Basquiat – “Poetry Slam, Daddy-O!” | toofulltowrite (I've started so I'll finish)

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