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Fed Up
It’s not just fogies and the aging nannies
That look askance at all the mixed-up trannies.
The everyday American has had it
With flagrant bald hypocrisy so bad it
Reminds them of the old Obama years,
But nowadays there is no time for tears.
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Findings of the Proctors of Proctology
So many sophonts seem to lose their minds,
Especially when they’re working for the Feds,
But what’s gone missing are entire heads,
And close examination now reveals,
Since all the bureaucrats have cut their deals,
Their crania are lodged in their behinds.
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sophont: (chiefly science fiction) An intelligent being; a being with a base reasoning capacity roughly equivalent to or greater than that of a human being.
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Spare the Sugar and the Schmaltz
Sometimes when I am served a treacly sonnet,
I want to put some salt and pepper on it.
When authors offer freshly-toasted buns,
Intended meanings could be anyone’s.
And, yes, it’s nice to open up your heart,
But sentimental gushing isn’t art.
I’m glad to hear that romance is alive,
Unless it comes at me in overdrive.
This classic form is made for twists and turns,
And yarns for which the reader, burning, yearns.
A perfect medium for tense remarks,
It should engender holocausts, not sparks.
A sonnet must exhibit subtle wrinkles,
Not be an ice cream cone with chocolate sprinkles.
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C.B. Anderson was the longtime gardener for the PBS television series, The Victory Garden. Hundreds of his poems have appeared in scores of print and electronic journals out of North America, Great Britain, Ireland, Austria, Australia and India. His collection, Mortal Soup and the Blue Yonder was published in 2013 by White Violet Press.
“Fed Up” and “Findings of the Proctors…” are immensely clever satire with a pointed arrow at the tip. The “ending” of “Findings” is at once humor and a serious statement that fits my view of them. I am a great proponent of love poems and enjoy the “chocolate sprinkles” I find there if they have a depth of meaning, a clever way in which they are put (as you do) or incorporate beautiful messages and words. I understand the twist at the end is the sine qua non that seals the deal as an inspiring and thought-provoking sonnet, but I enjoy some of the others equally. You do make a sound teaching point.
I am very glad, Roy, that you thought my points went straight to the heart. Bow-hunting is a sport that has always intrigued me. And I allow that aesthetic differences are both possible and necessary — after all: De gustibus non est disputandum.
The only time I learn is when I try to teach.
All excellent and on target. I learned a new word, sophont. I honestly do not remember ever seeing this word before.
As it happens, Phil, “sophont” is a word coined by, and mostly seen in, science fiction. Oh! but I see that Evan has already noted that fact. There’s nothing about being smart that prevents a person from being wrong.
I wish “Fed Up” were true, but I fear it is not.
Which thoughts, Stephen, in “Fed Up” do you find untrue? Several claims were made in the poem.
Just what I infer to be the central idea, which is that there is a segment of commonsensical people across the political spectrum who are fed up with the gender absurdity. I may live in a progressive hell-hole, but in plenty of neighborhoods here you can see those flags in yards with pickup trucks in the driveways. I suspect that the subset of the Democart party who object to it will nevertheless vote reflexively for Democratic candidates, no matter what, thus enabling the nonsense further—they might as be all for it. Add to this that young people, even if they are opposed, are also desensitivized to it and tend to take a lassez faire attitude towards it.
I get your point, Stephen, and it has some merit; however, bear in mind that you live and work in an enclave of insanity, the good people of which I would not necessarily consider everyday Americans.
“Fed Up” is a good group title for all three of these. Kip Anderson (like many of us) is fed up with the freaked-out countercultural absurdity that surrounds us; with the insufferable federal bureaucrats who dictate so much of our lives; and with gushing, saccharine sonneteering.
I don’t think there will be much argument about the first two in that list. But many of us could take a lesson from the third complaint — sonnets that are overflowing with feeling, sentiment, emotion, and heart-warming violins are in danger of sending the entire formalist movement into sugar-shock.
Thanks for the corrective, Kip.
Anytime, Joseph. Just don’t try to serve me a glass of grappa. And though we are fed up, they keep serving us more. Only time will tell whom this will benefit. I’m sure you have thoughts about that.
Your point about sonnets in Spare the Sugar and the Schmaltz is interesting and well taken, Sir.
You don’t pull your punches, Russel, so why should I?
Excellent, fun stuff, C.B! And all true. “Proctology” has a great rhyme scheme, and a hilarious last line. As for “Spare the Sugar”,
Poetic bees are buzzing in your bonnet,
Expressing your frustrations in this sonnet.
I’m certainly in agreement with those bees of yours!
“Fun” would be sufficient ascription to encompass the quality I aspire to achieve, Cynthia, but I’ll consider “Excellent” complimentary icing. Unless my memory disserves me, you, too, are adept at creating nonce forms. The funny thing is that it would certainly be possible for someone to write a sonnet that is quintessentially simple, replete with emotive figures of speech, and profound at the same time
I enjoyed all three of these poems, C.B. — especially “Spare the Sugar and the Shmaltz.” Somehow I’ve never pictured you as a Hallmark-film/Sound-of-Music/ hearts and unicorns kind of guy and your stated preference for salt-and-pepper over treacle makes that abundantly clear. Yours is a piquant wit and this unexpected sonnet (in couplets) is a fun poem which really makes a good point about the dangers — and turn-off — of oversentimentality. You speak for many with “Fed Up” (“trannies” and “nannies” is a great rhyme!) and in “Proctology” I’m crowing over your line “Their crania are lodged in their behinds.” All three pieces — great stuff!
Your enjoyment, Brian, always lets me know I’ve done something right. Every poet should write what he or she wants to write, but unless one of them speaks directly to God, he or she should know roughly how a literate audience will react to their work, and write accordingly, unless one has no desire for an audience.
All three poems have bite – and are refreshing reads for that reason. I enjoy the playfulness of the language in each, which makes them seem to laugh while making a stone-cold serious point. I wholeheartedly agree with your view of the sonnet; the subtleties are what make the form so versatile. Using it for saccharine love poems is like driving a Ferrari to commute to an office job.
Tasty conflicts are almost always worth the biting. Life’s ironies are the best appetizers. And here’s a challenge: Write a treacly sonnet that actually turns out to be a great poem. I think it can be done, though it might require an ample serving of tongue-in-cheek.
C.B., I love every one of these laugh-out-loud-or-else-you’ll-cry gems. These poems prove that a helping of humor really does make the bitter truth a trifle less bitter, and for that I am most grateful. Thank you!
Then, Susan, I will try to keep writing stuff like this. It would be good to take less whine with our cheese.