Poetry by Jeff Green


Pointless wordplay

by cricketjeff on August 21, 2010.  © Jeff Green, All rights reserved

When something’s very little
Then it’s called a jot or tittle
And it matters not the least or so they say
But if you aren’t huge and lumpy
Or a gallon over dumpy
You may believe that titchy is the way
If the words inside start playing
Then you’ll find your mind is straying
Down an avenue or two you’ve never strolled
And you may consider writing
Something strangely unexciting
While your impish fingertips are uncontrolled
Now I’m sure you are resisting
What these digits are insisting
Is a work of grave and noble lofty thought
But forget it you can’t best ’em
And it’s crazy to arrest ’em
Just for following their fairly harmless sport
So give in and just enjoy it
You’ve discretion so employ it
You can always claim the cat jumped on the keys
And it may start people’s giggles
As they watch your pointless wriggles
While you hide from all the critics who will tease
Poetry don’t need no meaning
If the letters are careening
Into something like an order on the page
Now I’ll stop this load of twaddle
And I’ll walk or maybe waddle
To make tea, I haven’t had one in an age!

Author notes

This sort of thing happens in my head all the time, if I have to suffer it, why shouldn’t you?