Many topics presented on 'the Forum', seem to have degenerated into discussing some of the more distressing aspects of our great country and community. And I for one are amongst the worst of the transgressors. So in order to atone or expiate for my own part in this appalling situation, I thought perhaps I might introduce you to one of my secret little delights - Poetry ?

What exactly 'IS' Poetry ? 'Poetry is the practice of creating artworks using language', so it's been said ? Another 'bright spark' suggested it's another form of 'aural music' ? I thought all music was aural, wasn't it ? Anyway folks, I know nothing about poetry from an academic perspective other than what I like, and the emotional effect it can sometimes have on me ?

Probably my favourite contemporary poet would be Dylan THOMAS and his tempestuous and sensitive verse; ' Do Not Go Gentle into that Good Night' the first verse being...

"Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light."

It's said that Dylan wrote this poem at aged only 17 years for his dying father ? I don't have any knowledge of that at all. It does push all my emotive buttons. Thank you CHRISGAFF1000 for giving me that sage advise and reminder, I needed that !

Aussie poets are amongst my favourites eg. Banjo PATERSON, Henry LAWSON, C.J. DENNIS - And who could ever forget that illustrious though melancholy piece, written about 1915, during the Great War 'Flanders Fields' Some attribute it, to Colonel McRae who lay dying in a military hospital on the French Coast, allegedly said to his Doctor "...Tell them this, If ye break faith with us who die, we shall not sleep..." ? Such powerful words I feel.

Whence we all shall finally go

Upon the page of OLO

And drum the beat like Richard Starkey

Angry, riled and often narky.

Written by May May: Copyright 2014, all rights reserved. Royalty cheques gladly accepted. "Richard Starkey" used with permission from my mate Ringo Starr.

Dear O Sung Wu,

Poetry is the preserve of everyone.

It's an ancient and universal verbal art form which
has stood the test of time in multiple manifestations.
It's a private and public phenomenon, and always has been
from the classical poets to the heroes of the modern
electronic media. It's found in high and los culture in the
short runs of books from exclusive publishing houses, on
gravestones, on the walls of public toilets and in
children's books and games.

Response to its magic is spread across humanity: in the
mind of the intellectual, in the heart of the lover, and in
the rhythmical movements of dancers who respond to the
lyrics of the songs which pound out in crowded rooms.

Comic verse is as much poetry as the ode, the limerick as
worthwhile as the sonnet. Funny rhymes can help you keep
your reason, just as serious poetry can probe your soul.

There is as much of the poetic in Milligan's

"A Lion is fierce
His teeth can pierce
The skin of a postman's knee.
It serves him right,
That, because of his bite,
He gets no letter you see."

as there is in Lawrence's

"The tiny fish enjoy themselves
in the sea
Quick little splinters of life,
their little lives are fun to them in the sea."

Or Keats'

"Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave
Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare;
Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss,
Though winning near the goal - yet, do not grieve;
She cannot fade, though thou has not thy bliss,
Forever wilt thou love, and she be fair!"

(from "Ode to A Grecian Urn," Verse 11).

o sung wu,

You have reached that stage in life where it is absolutely necessary if you have not done so already to slough off all of those false expectations that are the inheritance and burden of men. How else can men make some sense of their lives and obtain some glimmers of wisdom and peace?

Poetry reflects its time. That is not saying there isn't some learning in it or enjoyment, but that a lot of the romance and nostalgia, the negative forbearance in love for instance, is absolute pap. There is far too much poetry where men define themselves through women and it is so often servitude to women and maudlin self pity, but for what?

It you are trying to make some sense of your life and find some understanding, comfort and solace, you need poetry by men who reflect on their own lives and that of their fathers before them, challenging the visceral stuff, what it is to be a man. Outside of his 'relationship' with (or is that duty to) women, nation and family there is a man hidden in there somewhere, right?

Just observing that if one of the final duties/missions of life is to try to make some sense of it, there are men past 50 (society has men as elderly at 50) who are your peers - possibly from different cultural backgrounds but that doesn't say squat - who are living what you are living and have written songs, literature and poems of worth. Look to the men of modern times as well I say, and in that Google can be your friend.

Although I find many men through volunteering and around a campfire whose comment and counsel have equal merit and are thought-provoking, though not always presented as eloquently.

Hi there MAY MAY and FOXY...

MAY MAY you've neglected to include your postal address in order that your royalties may be appropriately dispatched ? Obviously your reference to Richard Starky was the real name of one, Ringo STARR, was it not ? Unfortunately, neither of these names are familiar to me ? Perhaps you may care to enlighten me, should time permit ? In any event thank you for your contribution.

Hello there FOXY...

In response to your short verse concerning the enjoyment of tiny fish as they swim about with carefree abandon, I'd like to offer this similarly short piece...

"...Fish, we are yesterdays catch
being taken to market,
our eyes are wide open to all who
go by -
If only we could send word, to our
friends in the river, to hide in
deep holes as prices are
high..."

(anon)

I will freely admit, the perfunctory or desultory language employed in most (period) classical poetry, the import of which, usually well and truly loses me. That great and much lauded Scottish Poet Laureate, 'Robbie Burns' (1759-96), is a good example of the type of poetry that I really have to grapple with, merely to understand it ?

My formal schooling only extended, with a decent pass in the NSW Intermediate Certificate in 1955. As such we all had the mandatory questions of Wm. Shakespeare's 'Henry V' and the 'Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner' which I didn't find too taxing ! Otherwise my taste in prose didn't extend too much before that of the early 20th Century. Therefore it's the more contemporary compositions that I really enjoy, essentially because I can understand them ?

Thank you MAY MAY and FOXY, I appreciate both your contributions.

WHAT ? ? ? ? ? You've never heard of the magnificent RINGO? Oh my goodness me. Have you also never heard of John, Paul and George?

I can't believe this. I'm hyperventilating ... I'll have to call 000. My next post will be from my hospital bed. I think I'll ask the ambulance officer to pack some of my Beatles CDs, so I can listen to them in hospital.