Poetry Hallway - An Ode To Richard III - Croyland Otter

Hot on the literary heels of our new resident poet’s introductory verse, ‘A Love Affair With Brown’, arrives this poetic epic, ‘An Ode To Richard III’. Shortly after the shocking discovery of the former King Of England in a popular Leicester dogging spot, The House Of York decided upon commissioning the then Poet Laureate to produce a fitting poem, the intention being that the late King would be immortalised in verse-like fashion. However, the House Of York is not what it once was, and its entitlements do not include making demands of the Poet Laureate as if he or she were some subordinate pup. As such, they have had to cast their net slightly wider, thus capturing the attention of England’s wealth of local poets.

Croyland’s second poem to feature at the nicely-carpeted Poetry Hallway is his tribute to the fallen king, to whom he refers as "a true Majesty”. In the accompanying letter, he went on to say, "… King Richard 111 [sic] could teach [the current Monarchy] a thing or two about how to run things.” We can only presume that Croyland is either thinking of another king or has scant regard for human life.

Alas, Croyland’s entry was rejected, firstly on the grounds that he broke part 5c of the competition rules, that “no one should make reference to Richard III’s alleged involvement in the disappearance of his nephews”, and secondly because the competition moderators didn’t think it was any good. Moderator Langley Ibsen summed up the House of York’s feelings: “We’re sorry to disqualify your entry so close to the finals, but we’re really confused as to how your poem, An Ode To Richard III, made it through the initial selection. It’s really not what we’re looking for.”

An Ode To Richard III

Richard the Third, how I wish you were here,

To see all the fuss being made of your up-dig,

It’s very well known that Leicester is short,

Of int’resting stuff; nothing there has been so big.

True, you may receive stick for killing your family,

Tho’ I’m sure they were brattish and spoilt and rotten.

And if they were also here, living the royal life,

You’d rather they were dead, decayed and forgotten.

So I’ll lift up my pint glass and drink to your death,

‘Cos to drink to your health would be oddly misleading.

But I promise if cloning returns you to breathing,

I’ll be the first to give you a kingly good feeding.

Croyland Otter

2014

Poetry Hallway - Introducing Celebrated Fenland Poet, Croyland Otter

Poetry Hallway - Introducing Celebrated Fenland Poet, Croyland Otter

Some time ago, we at Poetry Hallway held a competition aimed squarely at expanding the online population of 'Super Poet'. Finding people of a suitable calibre is a near-impossible task when one considers the lengths to which evil will go just to prevent artistry from engaging with its target audience. In much the same way that a Premiership football team hoovers up talent, the International Society Of Poets has spent the last two decades rounding up the nation's poetic geniuses, for whom they publish an initial offering before forcing them into a forever-exile. Indeed, but for a handful, they are never heard from again.

Creativity in the Internet is hard to come by. Indeed, it crops up occasionally, like an attractive slime mold growing in a college accommodation shower, but for the most part the web is a creative desert. The fault must lie firmly at the fetid feet of the International Society Of Poets. Elevated to the ranks of Hallway Poet is local celebrity Croyland Otter.

Copyright © 1997 Fenland Citizen

Born in an ordinary fashion to two parents, Whittlesey resident Croyland has spent the last forty-five years building a collection of Fen-inspired poetry, which began when he was forced to eat a pint of silt as a punishment by his headmaster. Of this incident, Croyland writes:

"...and the silt was a little gritty to start with. I tried chewing it and it simply made a terrible squeaking sound, which made the headmaster even angrier. Sensing that he might think of a less-squeaky punishment - like gravel - I simply swallowed it whole. And ever since then, I've been a poetry genius, and I've recited my god-like verse at every local Summer fete since."

Croyland was at the centre of controversy when he physically attacked local author Polly Howat during a live tweeting event at Wisbech Library in 2010. Howat was reciting her latest book Malevolent Ghost Prostitutes Of Crab Marsh in tweet form when Croyland accused her of plagiarising sections of his own book, Grumpy Spectral Seducers Of The Smeeth, which he'd self-published several months earlier. He alleged that the two had met at a speed-dating evening earlier on in the year, and that he had divulged details of some of his projects in return for a follow-up date which never took place.

In the aftermath, Croyland's popularity waned and Howat took him to court. In an effort to raise the funds needed to pay his legal fees, Croyland opened up his home to the public, charging £40 a head to show people around his 2-bedroom bungalow. Howat allegedly dropped the charges after disguising herself as a Canadian tourist and stumping up the entry fee to snoop around Croyland's home. Howat cites her visit as the inspiration for her local history book, 'Fen Slums' and, although Croyland is never directly referenced, it generated enough interest in his previous works for him to once again concentrate on his literary endeavours.

An introduction would be incomplete without an exclusive poem with which to launch Croyland's tenure with Poetry Hallway. After an intensive writing weekend, Otter submitted several dozen rhymes for consideration, and this was, by a parsec, the best.

A Love Affair With Brown
Croyland Otter 

Fenland silt, I love your grain,
The way its colour is just the same
As all the browns which are, in name,
Reminiscent of back-door shame.

Next up: Johnny C on trust.