For all you aspiring poets out there

Forget your sonnets, your haiku, your heroic couplets . . . .

Have you ever heard of a clerihew?

Clerihew was the middle name of E. C. Bentley, the classic mystery writer (Trent's Lase Case, and others). When he was in college, he and his friend G. K. Chesterton invented a new form of poetry. Here's how it works. A clerihew has only four lines. Rhyme scheme is AABB. Meter is whatever you want. But it has to be about a famous person, and that person's name must be mentioned somewhere in the first line. Oh, and the sillier the better. Here are a few examples.

It was a pity about Dickens'
Insane jealousy of chickens,
And one could really almost weep
At his morbid mistrust of sheep.

The people of Spain think Cervantes
Equal to half-a-dozen Dantes:
An opinion resented most bitterly
By the people of Italy.

It only irritated Brahms
To tickle him under the arms.
What really helped him to compose
Was to be stroked on the nose.

When Alexander Pope
Accidentally trod on the soap
And came down on the back of his head—
Never mind what he said.

Aren't they great? But out of date. We need some more current clerihews. Anyone? Anyone? Well, ok, I'll start you off. But then it's your turn. How about, hmmm . . .

In high school Bill Gates
Had trouble finding dates.
All the girls had heard
He was a computer nerd.

Now it's your turn.