To the general public, modern poetry is an irrelevance. There is no rhyme, rhythm or meter. Often there is no accessible meaning. Real poetry is an embarrassment to those calling themselves poets, but who have no obvious skill or talent; their tiny audience comprising mostly friends and other poets.
I have a friend whom I have yet to meet, but he is not an imaginary friend.
He and I have published 200 poems together, in two volumes. I intend sharing some with you here.
I wrote this one with Dusty Springfield at the back of my mind.
A Distant Star
The world revolves around you
And it cannot be denied
That we are all bit players
Who are here just for the ride
We're always there to cheer you
So you know you are a star
Your life seems so exciting
As we watch you from afar
But it’s not what you wanted
Cold and lonely at the top
The fickle cheers and praises
Leave you nothing when they stop.
I have a friend whom I have yet to meet, but he is not an imaginary friend.
He and I have published 200 poems together, in two volumes. I intend sharing some with you here.
I wrote this one with Dusty Springfield at the back of my mind.
A Distant Star
The world revolves around you
And it cannot be denied
That we are all bit players
Who are here just for the ride
We're always there to cheer you
So you know you are a star
Your life seems so exciting
As we watch you from afar
But it’s not what you wanted
Cold and lonely at the top
The fickle cheers and praises
Leave you nothing when they stop.