i abhor poetry. no offense meant to poets, budding poets et al. i have tried my paws at poetry several times and failed miserably. poetry/ poem eludes me. i enjoyed it when i was in high school (not long back) and now and again tried to make sentences rhyme but alas. i envy people who can write poems and do all those wonderful stuff' but i cannot 'cause i'm a complete pig head. back when i was a kid in Loreto in Calcutta, my grandpa said some kind words to me about a callow Christmas poem that i had penned (or penciled), because he couldn't hurt a fly and i began to fancy myself as the incarnation of John Keats. grandpa, swept over by my over zealous attempts at poetry, promised that he'll get them published in the kids' section of some renowned newspapers. he had in fact sent my poem over to be published, but i guess the poor guys at the newspaper office had almost choked on the hogwash i had sent them. i never gave up my hopes though, scanning the newspapers for my poem for days & months on an end, i finally gave up hope. but i think i had gone around telling people that my poem had actually been published just that i didn't happen to own the day's newspaper edition.
Ulysses (or how do you spell it?) was my nemesis. though i still happen to quote it once in a while.. that poem got me off completely. its an amazing piece by Tennyson but i never happened to appreciate it much. finally i gave up on my pursuit and the other day (well day before yesterday) happened to gag on an ugly git's poetry. i think we are finally over, me and poetry. so long
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