WH Auden once wrote in one of the Forwards to one of his many poetry collections something to the effect that if he only published books of poetry that were filled only with poems that he felt represented only his very best work (I know, there sure are a lot of onlys in this sentence.), then his books would be very thin.
Even the great Auden admits that some of his junk just ain’t that good. But that notsogood junk is necessary nonetheless because those notsogoods are needed to fill out a book and to help make the reallygoods stand out and shine.
In my estimation, nothing wrong with that.
Not everything in life can be perfect, regardless of how hard we try.
I’m reminded of that annoying not-so-old business saw that was going around back when I was still man enough to work: “Don’t let perfect get in the way of good,” or some BS like that.
Annoying BS for sure, but still it rings true.
Sometimes we have to not be afraid and to just let go and to know that we are going to get criticized no matter what we do or how hard we try.
Sometimes we just have to realize and declare that this is as good as it ever is going to get and that they can take it or leave it…and then move on to the next less-than-perfect adventure.
Sometime we must le—
Yeah, whatever…
Enough with the psychobabbley touchyfeely crap, right?
Maybe, whatever…maybe not, whatever, but I said all that psychobabbley touchyfeely crap so I can confidently yet still somewhat reluctantly share with you one of the lesser of the lesser poems from my poetry collection (I classify it as a lesser of the lesser, and not just lesser, because, not only is it a notsogood, it’s a notsogood that rhymes. To the smart people who feel obligated to set the standards in life for us, rhyming poetry is so not cool. (Sure glad I’m not smart, or cool, because I kinda like rhyming poems, even though I rarely write them.))
Here goes:
POETIC LICENSE
Thank God for the passionate poet
Who trumpets the sun’s morning rise
And who writes lovely, pretty sad songs
Of young lovers’s heartbreaking goodbyes
Thank God for the passionate poet
Who reaches right into the heart
To stroke it, to tease it, to please it
And sometimes to tear it apart
~~~~
More notsogoods like this one, but without out the annoying rhyme-stuff, can be found in my POEMS FROM THE RIVER poetry collection
