Joseph Conlon
There once was a man named McGonagall...
Poetry
I sometimes enter the Spectator's weekly poetry/writing competitions which involve amusing briefs. The poems below are in reverse chronological order and generally got either a runners-up' (where your name appears in the magazine) or winners' slot (when the poem also appears). There are also some there because I like them. Needless to say, I don't (necessarily) identify my own views with the `voice' of the poem.
The Clerk from Madras
(brief: a double dactyl on a double act)
Britishy-boffinry
Hardy and Littlewood,
Trinity mathmos who
All honours won,
Despite their brilliance
Number-theoretical,
Stand in the shadow of
Ramanujan.
Hardy and Littlewood,
Trinity mathmos who
All honours won,
Despite their brilliance
Number-theoretical,
Stand in the shadow of
Ramanujan.
And all for the sake of a Carpet
(brief: a double dactyl on a double act)
Dinafore-pinafore
Gilbert and Sullivan,
Musical masters of
Upside-down fun,
Quarrelled on matters pure
Flibbertigibberty,
Making the lawyers' lot
A happy one.
Gilbert and Sullivan,
Musical masters of
Upside-down fun,
Quarrelled on matters pure
Flibbertigibberty,
Making the lawyers' lot
A happy one.
In Memoriam Alan Clark MP
(the brief: start with the last line of a well-known poem and end with its first line, on a different topic)
With flint in the bosom and guts in the head,
I sneered at my nemesis groaning in bed.
I chopped off his pecker, I boiled it in fat,
I served it up garnished with cream for the cat.
A quartet of daughters deflow'red by that wretch
Then cuckoldry horns from the priapic lech.
He wrote it; he sold it; he published it all,
Recounting his conquests from Westminster Hall.
The wine that he soured will never be sweet
But vengeance is mine with a punishment meet.
The dance of disgrace was a ballet for two -
The stars have not dealt me the worst they could do.
I sneered at my nemesis groaning in bed.
I chopped off his pecker, I boiled it in fat,
I served it up garnished with cream for the cat.
A quartet of daughters deflow'red by that wretch
Then cuckoldry horns from the priapic lech.
He wrote it; he sold it; he published it all,
Recounting his conquests from Westminster Hall.
The wine that he soured will never be sweet
But vengeance is mine with a punishment meet.
The dance of disgrace was a ballet for two -
The stars have not dealt me the worst they could do.
Don't mention St George
(the brief: a double dactyl on a contemporary personage)
Hoitety-toitety
Emily Thornberry,
Feminist lawyer and
Labour MP,
Speaks with a manner quite
Aristocratical
Save when men style her as
Lady Nugee.
Emily Thornberry,
Feminist lawyer and
Labour MP,
Speaks with a manner quite
Aristocratical
Save when men style her as
Lady Nugee.
How do you run a household like Maria?
(the brief: a sonnet on household tips)
You seek a house, Madame, of style and class?
A shaded path from tall iron gates to door,
Entrance to chandelier - Murano glass -
Then stairs of oak towards the ballroom floor.
When hosting friends, let food and wine be chief.
Champagne and caviar to start. Et puis?
Duxelle of truffle paired with Kobe beef
Before Yquem or Taylor's sixty-three.
A library rich with books of every year,
From classic Loeb histories of Greece and Rome
To playful verse of Betjeman and Lear.
One final touch then makes the perfect home:
The smile of love, with sangfroid of a saint,
For babes who scream and scrawl on walls with paint.
A shaded path from tall iron gates to door,
Entrance to chandelier - Murano glass -
Then stairs of oak towards the ballroom floor.
When hosting friends, let food and wine be chief.
Champagne and caviar to start. Et puis?
Duxelle of truffle paired with Kobe beef
Before Yquem or Taylor's sixty-three.
A library rich with books of every year,
From classic Loeb histories of Greece and Rome
To playful verse of Betjeman and Lear.
One final touch then makes the perfect home:
The smile of love, with sangfroid of a saint,
For babes who scream and scrawl on walls with paint.
Ode to Donald Trump
(the brief: a poem of disgusting flattery to a person of power, written in heroic couplets)
But once before, one blink of history,
Did pow'r and pen attain this harmony.
With grace, with style, a fount of words to please,
Our Tully thou; old Abe Demosthenes.
Try pope and sultan, prince and potentate,
Not one approaching you in craft of state.
Here Talleyrand - he begs on bended knee
A pinch, a crumb of Trump diplomacy.
For Bach the organ, Houdini the trick,
Ramanujan the primes, Hitchcock the flick.
Artists require a clay for genius meet,
Shakespeare the play, my President the tweet.
Above this all, humbly by thou untold,
Thy care towards the poor, thy heart of gold.
By night I pray - beseech - the Trinity,
That morn by morn I learn to love as thee.
Did pow'r and pen attain this harmony.
With grace, with style, a fount of words to please,
Our Tully thou; old Abe Demosthenes.
Try pope and sultan, prince and potentate,
Not one approaching you in craft of state.
Here Talleyrand - he begs on bended knee
A pinch, a crumb of Trump diplomacy.
For Bach the organ, Houdini the trick,
Ramanujan the primes, Hitchcock the flick.
Artists require a clay for genius meet,
Shakespeare the play, my President the tweet.
Above this all, humbly by thou untold,
Thy care towards the poor, thy heart of gold.
By night I pray - beseech - the Trinity,
That morn by morn I learn to love as thee.