Flexistentialism Welcome Guest | Login or Register

In my continued series of “poetry sent to me by random people,” I present to you the following work by William Wordsmith (I’m pretty sure that’s a pen name). It’s called “The Sea” and I’m sure you’ll find it delightful.

The Sea
by William Wordsmith

I think the Sea
Should come to me,
For when I stay
On holiday
It’s always cold
(And I am old).

But when I’m here
The sky is clear;
The sun is out
And people shout
And have such fun
beneath said sun.

So that is why
I think the sky
Is better here
In Haslemere.
There’s not much sand,
But I can stand
To do without,
And would not pout
If, once, the Sea
Would come to me.

Bernard Melchior doesn’t know anything about existentialism (or flexistentialism), but he knows what he likes. He wrote this poem for me (and you, by extension), and suggested I start a section for up-and-coming poets, which this post is the first member of.

Biography: Bernard is from the Great Britain, and he has invented all sorts of useful things, like towers to sit on while judging people, and airs of Suspicion. In addition to poetry, he writes things like children’s books, boring speeches, and letters of complaint.

I present to you:

Dilemma
Dedicated to William Blake
by Bernard R Melchior

O Iris Bold, O Iris Bold.
How could you serve me so?
She shot me in the hand, you know.
You don’t like that, I’m told.
Bernard has a daughter
It’s just a rumour.
You don’t need to humour
Me.
I won’t believe it til we’ve caught ‘er.

What do you think? Will he make it big and sell millions? Would anyone like to purchase a glistening white tower from him that you can sit on while judging people? You be the judge. Bernard’s judge.