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New Poetry, Fiction, Essay

Jane Simmons challenges you to crack The Ultimate Found Poem

Jane Simmons is a retired teacher/lecturer who is now studying for an MA in Creative Writing at the University of Lincoln. She has written several short stories and is currently working on her second novel and a collection of poetry. She is a member of the Lincoln-based Pimento poets and Outspoken Poets and regularly reads/performs her work in the Lincoln area. Although her main interests are poetry and prose fiction, she has written a short play which is to be published and performed in summer 2018.  Jane says she does not know how she ever found the time to go to work. Jane lives with her husband in a village outside Lincoln. They have one daughter – who is a vet, and Jane’s number one reader.

 

Here’s a fun competition while we are on our Christmas Break.
How many poets – and their poems – can you find in this,
The Ultimate Found Poem? 

 

 

 

The Ultimate Found Poem

 

Dis poetry is wid me

When I gu to me bed –

Oh, to be in England

Now that April’s here –

I will show you fear in a handful of dust –

Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

In Xanadu, did Kubla Khan

A stately pleasure-dome decree –

Bloody men are like bloody buses –

I wandered lonely as a cloud.

Glory be to God for dappled things –

O the opal and the sapphire of that wandering western sea –

I was too far out all of my life

And not waving but drowning –

And did those feet in ancient time

Walk upon England’s pastures green? –

Come, friendly bombs, and fall on Slough –

What passing bells for those who die as cattle? –

Do not go gentle into that good night –

Here’s how they rated him when they looked –

He was my North, my South, my East and West –

She walks in beauty, like the night –

Next to my own skin, her pearls –

Oh, my love is like a red, red rose –

I wonder, by my troth, what thou and I did, till we loved? –

Yours is the earth and everything that’s in it –

It’s joy to be old

The dog dead and the car sold –

Into the valley of Death rode the six hundred –

Dying

Is an art, like everything else,

I do it exceptionally well –

Better to reign in hell than serve in heaven –

Better by far you should forget and smile

Than you should remember and be sad –

Between my finger and my thumb

The squat pen rests –

What will survive of us is love –

Beauty is truth, truth beauty – that is all –

The window is starless still, the clock ticks,

The page is printed.

 

 

 

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