Best Famous Mediocre Poems
Here is a collection of the all-time best famous Mediocre poems. This is a select list of the best famous Mediocre poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous Mediocre poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of mediocre poems.
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Written by
Robert William Service |
I'm just a mediocre man
Of no high-brow pretence;
A comfortable life I plan
With care and commonsense.
I do the things most people do,
I echo what they say;
And through my morning paper view
The problems of the day.
No doubt you think I'm colourless,
Profoundly commonplace;
And yet I fancy, more or less,
I represent the race.
My name may stand for everyone,
At least for nine in ten,
For all in all the world is run
By mediocre men.
Of course you'll maybe not agree
That you are average,
And unlike ordinary me
You strut your little stage,
Well, you may even own a Bank,
And mighty mergers plan,
But Brother, doff your tile and thank
The Mediocre Man.
|
Written by
David Lehman |
If Ezra Pound were alive today
(and he is)
he'd be teaching
at a small college in the Pacific Northwest
and attending the annual convention
of writing instructors in St. Louis
and railing against tenure,
saying tenure
is a ladder whose rungs slip out
from under the scholar as he climbs
upwards to empty heaven
by the angels abandoned
for tenure killeth the spirit
(with tenure no man becomes master)
Texts are unwritten with tenure,
under the microscope, sous rature
it turneth the scholar into a drone
decayeth the pipe in his jacket's breast pocket.
Hamlet was not written with tenure,
nor were written Schubert's lieder
nor Manet's Olympia painted with tenure.
No man of genius rises by tenure
Nor woman (I see you smile).
Picasso came not by tenure
nor Charlie Parker;
Came not by tenure Wallace Stevens
Not by tenure Marcel Proust
Nor Turner by tenure
With tenure hath only the mediocre
a sinecure unto death. Unto death, I say!
WITH TENURE
Nature is constipated the sap doesn't flow
With tenure the classroom is empty
et in academia ego
the ketchup is stuck inside the bottle
the letter goes unanswered the bell doesn't ring.
|
Written by
Rg Gregory |
(1) the ordinary
you are not interested in me
a receiver of food and a giver of ****
my brain knuckled under
i have rendered the skills of my
limbs to generations of caesars
and caesar's gods have siphoned off my spirit
by day i have been trained to dismember my own brothers
my own pieces travel through the night yearning for union
in every land i am the bulk
the bricks you build with
in every land mine is the back that bends
the face that gets shoved in the earth
i am told how costly it is to allow me to breathe
i am not told how much your palaces (private or stately) depend on
my breathing
i must eat so that i may be eaten
i must labour so that others may find space for their estates
i am grasses told to lie down as lawn
i am shrubs being clipped into hedges
i am weeds being torn out of lines
i am dirt being churned into mud
i am mat that must always be shaken
but choke me i must breathe
crush me i must rise
wipe me out i am everywhere
whip me my blood runs into air
destroy me i shall run out of doors
my fingers root in the earth and shoot stars
(2) loud hosannas (and a bowl of cherries) to the ordinary
ordinary holds the world
in a hat - it is a grey hat
(grey - if you can but see it -
is the brightest of colours)
the world hates its grey sky
endlessly moaning
what a gloomy day
how mediocre
but ordinary holds the world
it's about time someone
gave loud hosannas
(and a bowl of cherries)
to the ordinary
without it the sky
loses its air
fields give up grass
meals do without salt
bodies have no skin
blood mourns its arteries
language has no tongue
at the foot of mountains
there is no earth
ordinary has been kicked
in the teeth (and of course
in the privates) every
second of every
minute of every
hour of every
day of every
week of every
month of every
year of existence
and every second of every
etc. ordinary sits up
a grin bubbling through
its spilled blood (and
of course keeping
its privates to itself)
and simply says
i am i am
i am i am i am
wham
more
blood and
another
grin
etc
ordinary is where it all
started and where it is
eternally - square one the
universal square
one or two
claim to have reached
square one and a half - they
slip back but they
eventually slip back
their arses red
with shame
no man can
put his foot down where
there is no banana skin
the ordinary runs
down to the sea and
without trying
encompasses all views
blends all colours
and (in the end) copes
quietly with death
poets spend a lifetime
in their songs
hoping (not daring)
to touch it
it is wellwater
the mountain spring
the stream running
throughout man
bathing his wounds
cooling his fevers
it is the untransplantable heart
it speaks all languages
it eludes science
it wracks art
it is the lavatory the fool
and the wise man share
it discerns truly
man if you are not ordinary
you are a bloated
nothing
when you burst you spill
your ordinary intestines
and in no time
your stink is
assuaged by the stream
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