Interview with Jonathan Potter celebrating the release of Tulips for Elsie, new from Korrektiv Press

You are here: Home / backward glances / Two Very Short Poems about the Relentless March of Time

Two Very Short Poems about the Relentless March of Time

November 5, 2015 by at 12:21 pm

A Winter’s View of Autumn
Following September, orange October guided
November, bister and more sobersided.

The Present Moment
Forever severing and pari passu
Gathering everything old and new.

7 Comments Filed Under: backward glances, bloggerel verse, finnegan, pomes penyeach

Comments

  1. JOB says
    November 5, 2015 at 1:05 pm

    When you do decide to publish, I think you ought to have them set in scrolls – and offer a free pumice stone with every purchase.

    Reply
    • Quin Finnegan says
      November 5, 2015 at 1:16 pm

      I think I know what you mean … although the reference to pumice I recall is the Catullus poem about his poetaster friend being overly meticulous with his doggerel. But, like Matthew’s observation about the goofy fun of it all, that suits my purpose to a T. T is for Tightly constructed doggerel.

      Reply
      • Quin Finnegan says
        November 5, 2015 at 1:22 pm

        And there’s quite a bit of the poetaster in me …. I’m always on guard against his gaining the upper hand. This whole project started when I was thinking about Kerouac’s haiku. Which, to be honest, I just don’t think are all that good. There’s something monotonous about them, and with that of a great many others as well … so I started thinking about something I could do in two or three lines that felt like it was something out of our own tradition, which got me thinking about Martial, which got me to these.

        “Goofy Fun with a Pumice Stone” sounds like a pretty good title, don’t you think?

        Reply
      • JOB says
        November 6, 2015 at 1:26 pm

        Actually, I was thinking it a bit of a self-effacing nod to his more serious historian pal, Cornelius – and forgive me if I sounded snarky – I meant no implication that yours was not up to the task!

        These are all great hard little gems – mine, a bunch of excelsior not fit to wrap yours in!

        Or rather…

        When Jobe declaims his barbs, then each and every tine
        But minces JOB’s own scribbles into shredded pine…

        JOB

        Reply
  2. Big Jon Bully says
    November 7, 2015 at 11:33 am

    Why was ten afraid of seven?

    Reply

Speak Your Mind

*