Thursday, 1 November 2007

Richard Madeley's Poem To His Blog's Latest Visitor, Mr. Stephen Fry

The Ode Best Left Untravelled

I saw you, you bugger, thinking you’d be
Just an anonymous surfer from across the sea.
But my blog has few hits, Mr. Stephen Fry,
So you could hardly pass by this eager old eye.
But I’m glad that you came, for now you may see
A person unlocked by your book on poetry.
I followed your rules and on page ninety three,
Learned diddly dum and diddly dee,
Metrical whatsits, iambs, and meter,
Which I’m using here. Block storage heater…
Have you guessed I haven’t worked out the rhymes,
What to stress or even when to enjamb my lines?
I should really have chosen to write this in free
Verse. Oh, now this line’s running awkwardly.
Goddamn it! A pure rhyme. It’s getting no better,
And now I need something random like ‘red setter’.
That’s just lousy, I’m like the new Colly Cibber,
The poetic equivalent of poor old Fred Dibnah.
Mr. Fry, you were a fine blog statistic,
Then you weren’t, I’d missed you, it’s bleeding sadistic.
You’re a swine, a rotter, a cowardly cad,
You wonder how I know? I’m nearly as bad.
Or perhaps you smiled and reached for the phone,
And intend to sue me as soon as you’re home.
Don’t try, please not until I’ve told you the tale,
Of when I was viciously fondled by Alexi Sayle.
So, like a part-nibbled herring, here I shall wait,
For you to come finish what’s left on your plate.
You were here, for a while, but now you are gone.
How do I end? With bugger! And diddly dum.

© Richard Madeley, 2007


Misssy M said...

I bet Andrew Motion is shitting himself!

Richard Madeley said...

I wish he were, Missy, but do I detect a note of sarcasm? I know I got a bit mixed up in the middle but I thought my heart was in the right place. It's not that bad, is it?

Do you know how many celebrities I've written poems for? Judy says I'm making a fool of myself but I remain convinced that there might be some out there who appreciate them.

All Shook Up said...

I've never read anything like it, Richard. You might have stumbled across something unique and precious there. You have style that few other poets have, especially the successful ones.

Richard Madeley said...

That's it. That's the last insult. I quit! This blog is now closed.

Ms Baroque said...

Dick! Did you ever read any Byron at school?

Ms Baroque said...

Oops, linked, I couldn't help myself.

Richard Madeley said...

I read very little poetry at school. Almost all I know comes from a job I had for six months when I wrote the verses for birthday cards. I worked with the great Hank Lurpack for that time. He was a master birthday card versifiers. He was (and still is) my mentor.

All Shook Up said...

Aww c'mon, man! If there was a Tate Modern for poetry, this stuff would be in it.

They laughed at Byron didn't they? And you don't even have a gammy leg!!

Richard Madeley said...

All Shook Up, do all your compliments have a backhand to them? You see, there you go again. What is in the Tate Modern other than a collection of old crock? I'd like to think I was following in a tradition of a great poet. I've never read Bryon so I wouldn't know but I'd be delighted if I thought you meant your compliments.

(And yes, I do have a limp. A slight one from a bullet I caught during my days on Granada Reports)

elberry said...

You're an inch away from sending him dead animals and asking why he doesn't love you.

Anonymous said...

Never have I read a poem so fine
Where passion shines through in each and every line
Have I read this book by Mr. Stephen Fry?
I hear you ask with a voice so beautiful and divine
"No, not yet" is my honest reply.
...How the hell did I get stuck with this particular rhyme?
Anyway, Mr. Madeley, I'm one of your newest fans
Probably one of the youngest too but I have a thing for old chaps
Jeremy Irons, Anthony Hopkins, Hugh Grant and Fry
Clarkson, May, Laurie, Izzard (yes, the transvestite)
(I'm sure you'll find your place in there in no time)
Again, can you see? I've returned to this bloody rime!
I must change the immediate course of this
Right after I've taken a piss
Because with an empty bladder,
It is easier to gather
Your thoughts away from a rather
Full organ, that "sits on the pelvic floor"
Instead of standing... Well, it's comfier, I'm sure.
But what do I know, I'm just a bloody Finn
Writing a poem about no other than urine!
Better forecast for a poem I couldn't see fit
But it's a poem for you, Richard, you funny piece of... fluff.