It's Wednesday and we all know what that means - a visit to Cara over at Ooh ... Books! where her weekly meme FREEVERSE is proving ever-more popular.
But firstly, I'd like to share this newspaper article with you - all about using verse to market products, I thought it would fit in nicely.
ROBERT GRAVES, the war poet, once remarked "There's no money in poetry, but then there's no poetry in money either." Poverty has been a repeating motif for poets throughout the ages, but advertising has always been one possible source of income for the modern jobbing wordsmith.
Two prominent adverts, both of which lean heavily on the emotional appeal of poetry, are currently airing on our screens (at least here in England) - a David Morrisey narrated ad for McDonald's ("the Gothy types and scoffy types and like-their-coffee-frothy types were just passing by" - click HERE to view), and a Pete Postlewaite narrated ad for Cathedral City cheddar cheese ("On the A47 it's cheese with cucumber/It's lunchtime for her as the rest of us slumber" - click HERE to view).
In recent years we've also seen poems used to advertise the AA (a car breakdown assistance and insurance company), Waitrose (a supermarket), Center Parcs (a holiday company) and the Prudential (an insurance company). But what do poets feel about this unsteady dance with commercialism?
"It doesn't always please me," says Roger McGough, the Liverpudlian performance poet. "It's like when you hear music used in an advert and you feel it has degraded it. But as long as the poems are used respectfully I think it can be ok."
- An edited version of an article by Leo Hickman, reporting in the Guardian. (For full story click HERE.)
Now onto Poetry On The Metro and the final two poems in the series.
I twist and turn into the night
Uncertainly, I flap my wings
I see the world in black and white
A glowing bridge it lights the world
A river flowing to the sea
Black windows curving and bending
Tall black towers reach the sky
White eyed man watches over us
Watches over my city.
- Catherine, age 11.
our very own
shimmering big glass slug
living on the banks of the Tyne
- Ryan, age 9.
I hope you have enjoyed all the poems in this series - don't we have some talented bairns (children) here in the North East of England? To view all of the poems again or to put a face to the name of our poets, click HERE.
See you all next week when I shall be bringing you some festive poetry.