Quand j'etais poete

In a way, one might think, or could say, that there is more glamour in failed glamour than in glamour itself. Since glamour must fade or fail eventually, why not get in there right from the start.

The consummately wonderful Gerard Depardieu expressed such an idea so well in the film Quand J'etais Chanteur that I could do no more than echo all the feelings expressed in it in a poem of my own.

And so, here it is, Quand J'etais Poete.

Quand J’étais Poète

I have aches and pains
now. I forget my lines.
Repeated refrains,
how very unrefined.
Sometimes a dissembler,
writing a sonnet,
but I still remember
Quand j’étais poète.

The readings in bookshops,
verse in magazines,
not quite Top of the Pops,
the poetry scene.
No author’s intention,
mix joy with regret,
hoping for attention
Quand j’étais poète.

Few items of fan-mail
over all those years,
the devil in the detail
more than it appears.
I tried to be formal,
sestina or sestet,
it didn’t seem abnormal
Quand j’étais poète.

Sometimes, nevertheless,
the polite applause,
very minor success
and small-time awards
but I wouldn’t trade it,
I was no laureate,
I never really made it
Quand j’étais poète.