100 Days: Day 1

Yes, I know technically it was yesterday, but as I worked all day, I didn't actually get round to reading my first poem till 20 to midnight. So, it had to be a short one. Don't worry, I'm not going to post them all up on here.

I have quite a selection available, having gone a bit mad in Borders* on Saturday. One of the books I bought was an anthology of poetry, with a poem for each day of the year. Looking through, I clearly have a cursory knowledge of a lot more poems than I'd realised, as many are, if not exactly familiar, at least ones with familiar phrases. Or maybe it's just that I collect quotations.

I started at the poem for 1 December. It was the one which begins 'I must go down to the sea again', already slightly familiar, so perhaps later, if I'm struggling for inspiration. I turned to the beginning of the book. For 2 January, there was a poem by Wendy Cope, who was recommended by Shona, so I was able to tick off both an unfamiliar poet, and a recommendation.

Bloody Men

Bloody men are like bloody buses -
You wait for about a year
And as soon as one approaches your stop
Two or three others appear.

You look at them flashing their indicators
Offering you a ride.
You're trying to read the destinations,
You haven't much time to decide.

If you make a mistake, there is no turning back.
Jump off, and you'll stand there and gaze
While the cars, the taxis and the lorries go by
And the minutes, the hours, the days.

by Wendy Cope

It seemed kind of apt.

I liked her style, and I think I'll read more, and you can't say fairer than that for a start.

*How gutted am I that Borders has gone into administration? I love a bookshop, and can spend hours in there. Buying books on line is ok when you know what you want, but the sheer joy of browsing and discovering books you didn't know about is something that should not be lost.