Actually it's Matt Dadley's Poetry Web-log, but I got all spooneristic on my name's ass.
It will display my poems that I write from time to time. They are often random, mainly rhyming and rarely well constructed (but who knows, your feedback may inform me otherwise).
You are invited to view this blog. I know that at least two of you could be called fans (of my work) and at times have been rewarded with poems written about you, and heaping the rest if you into a mass - you are friends who know of my lyrical side.
I worked out that blogs are predominantly self absorbed and self promoting and now that I've worked that out, it seems like just the thing I should get into. I should probably start with a new poem, but I'm not going to. I'm going to hit you with a 'Classic' and if I work out how to do it, it will even come with an associated image.
An Ode to Steve
You were my hero, my role model, my eco-warrior idol
You weren't my girlfriend, mechanic or muse
But you were also a father and probably mowed the lawns (if they ever grew long enough)
And then you got slippery with sting rays, it's like you never learned a goddamn thing.
Crocodiles chomp, snakes poison, sting rays...sting! Duh Steve,
Dumbass.
Now without you here things are different.
We don't talk anymore, your old man doesn't talk to Terri anymore.
Your son Trevor or Bob or something talks now.
Bindi, well Bindi - she's earned herself a whole stanza.
She has bloody well earned herself a stanza! (or two! I'm not yet decided!)
Bindi, like those annoying seeds that stick to your socks and manly leg hair
She wants to fly like an eagle
She wants to save Susan Sarandon and Tim Robbins and the Whales and the Universe
Bindi wants to save you Steve, but she can't
She can't.
