Posted: February 10, 2012 in Random
Tags: , , , , , , ,

I sometimes wonder where my passion for poetry came from. Perhaps it’s because my parents would read me Dr. Seuss religiously every night before I fell asleep. In hindsight after hearing the same story for the 50th time, I should have piped up, ‘I don’t like green eggs and ham either so stop telling me about it!’ To be perfectly honest I am actually concerned that Dr. Seuss suggested that eggs should go with ham in the first place. Had he not heard of bacon? After all it’s not as though it’s going to make much difference to the pig.


I must admit I’ve never eaten green eggs but I like to think that if I did I would do so with dignity and grace and the occasional gagging noise. Having said that I do pride myself on my ability to stomach food of a rather questionable nature. For instance I’ve eaten fried mopane worms. Supposedly they’re an African delicacy but I reckon wood chippings are probably more palatable. I’ve also been persuaded once or twice to have black pudding. Black pudding for all intents and purposes is congealed blood. Not very appetising but like I say if you can have it with tomato sauce then it can’t be all bad.


I can’t really pinpoint when I first realised that I liked writing poetry. It just seems to be something that I’ve always had inside of me. Some people are compulsive writers, and write every thought and experience down, whether it be in their journal or on their blog. I on the other hand have been ‘cursed’ with this obsession to make words rhyme. I suppose it provides a creative outlet in which I can express my true feelings. It’s not as though I have a mute button for it either. I can try and put it on hold for a while but eventually it will sneak up on me when I least suspect it.


The poetry always forms in my mind at the most inopportune moments, and like a hyperactive six year old throwing a tantrum, it won’t stop until I’ve given it some attention. I will be sitting on the loo, minding my own business so to speak, when suddenly a line will pop into my head. Innocuous all on its own but suddenly it invites some friends over to come and play. Before you know it there’s a karaoke party going on in my head. Finally I scream enough! The lines looking rather remorseful form in neat little rows, and I like to call them verses. Needless to say as soon as I’ve flushed the loo, I run headlong into my room, so I can scribble them down before they are lost forever.

  1. My Nomadic Expat Life says:

    Mmm, thought you could escape by coming over to WP, did you….? Not so easy, pretty boy!!

    Insanity Rules

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