For the 2 or 3 people who are aware that this blog exists, yesterday was the first of what will likely be many poetry days. For as long as I can remember, I’ve been guilty of composing some of the worst poetry ever written. Some of my stuff is so bad, even the guy who writes the Olive Garden commercials thinks I suck…
Whoever writes those Olive Garden commercials should chop off their hands, rip out their vocal cords, and even do some Kathy Bates ankle breaking action to avoid a Daniel Day Lewis / My Left Foot situation, so that there is no possible way that they could communicate with the outside world ever again. I’m totally serious. I won’t even eat at Olive Garden anymore because of how bad those commercials are. That and I don’t like their spaghetti.
I’ve never felt the need to apologize for my poetry. I suppose it’s a little bit like 3 Mile Island, in that I’m aware that my poetry is both catastrophic and potentially lethal, but I try minimize the exposure to the public. I suppose in the future I should preface any poetic interludes in this blog with a warning label, but I’d rather that my readers (both of you) utilize the concept of caveat emptor — let the buyer beware. In college I was a member of the Longhorn Band, and in my final year I had the honor of being a member of the TUBA! section. For away games, the TUBAS! had their own bus, due in large part to the loud singing and lack of tolerance for sleeping on said bus. The section motto was, “If you don’t like our singing, don’t ride our bus.” I think that’s the attitude I’d like to adopt for this blog. Simply put, “if you don’t like my poetry, don’t read my blog, or at the very least bring an air sick bag with you before you start reading.”
You might be wondering, “Gee Andy, if you know your poetry is so bad, why do you write it?” I truly believe that there is nothing more important in this world than creative expression. Except maybe breathing, or possibly feeding the lepers. Creativity, in my eyes, is what separates us from the animals… although the dolphins at Sea World can do some pretty wicked routines. In all seriousness though, writing bad poetry is not a crime. Painting bad pictures is not a crime. Even playing bad music is not a crime, unless you happen to be this guy. What is a crime though is to suppress creativity. There is a growing trend of school districts across the country starting to cut music, drama, and art programs… a concept that is absolutely horrifying to me. I can say without a shadow of a doubt that I would not be the person I am today without the music that I learned in school, and the teachers that shared their gifts with me. I don’t know who I would be without band, but I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t like him. To quote Richard Dreyfuss in Mr. Holland’s Opus, “I guess you can cut the arts as much as you want… Sooner or later, these kids aren’t going to have anything to read or write about.”
I’m not quite sure how this post ended up getting so political, but regardless it’s something I feel very strongly about. Without creative expression, I don’t see how life could possibly be worth living. That’s why as long as there’s a verse in my mind and a song in my heart, I’ll keep writing bad poetry. I hope and pray that all of you out there choose to do the same.