Hello Planet Earth. My name is John Griffin. I was born in your Solar System 61½ years ago in a place called Scotland. I've been told I’m from another planet, but I can assure you that Scotland is definitely on Earth.
I'm a bit of a poet. Not a whole poet, you understand, just a bit of one. An elbow perhaps, or a shin. I'm also a bit of an actor (the belly button and the moustache); quizmaster (eyebrows and, I suspect, two of the toes on my right foot); graphic designer (nape of the neck) and I'm increasingly convinced that my knees are becoming interested in politics.
However, many other parts of my body are devoted to chauffeuring. Unfortunately, you see, I can’t devote all my time and self to poetry. If I did, I wouldn’t have enough money to buy muesli, eggs, yoghurt or haggis (these are all a poet really needs). No, my sustenance comes entirely from driving clients to airports and so on. This is true of most poets, although only a few of them are chauffeurs. The vast majority work for Burger King. Also, these days I seem to be spending more time on the stage than in the garret. It's my public, darling. They're hungry.
Of course, the really great poets can use their whole bodies to create verse, not just their elbows and shins. Geoffrey Chaucer used several bits of his anatomy in composing The Canterbury Tales. Shakespeare used his entire body, plus a few others, when he wrote Titus Andronicus and Percy Bysshe Shelley wrote Ozymandias, curiously enough, with one of his hands.
So, as I say, I was born in Dunfermline a colossal number of years ago and lived in Rosyth till I was nine. Dad, Mum, my two sisters and I then moved down to Ashtead, Surrey. I now live in Tolworth, near Kingston Upon Thames. I would love to be able to tell you that I have two pussycats called Brünnhilde and Estragon who live amicably with Tusks, my dopey-adorable spaniel, but alas, these are figments of my imagination. It wouldn’t be fair to keep pets as well as my silly working hours, not to mention the stupid names I would feel obliged to give them. However, I do love doggies, pussycats and most other of God’s creatures, providing they walk on fewer than six legs. On Zardox, I had a cuddly pet tigen called Fltosbg, but sadly I couldn't bring him along when I returned to this planet (your quarantine laws are really strict). I trust he is still safe in the care of P'Tordlik 38c Vildyshoes and his wife, Jane (such wonderful friends).
Among the other things I love are:
MUSIC: Favourite composers are Beethoven, Garfon 11a Both-D'Ugger, Bruckner, Oscar Colomina, Clark Datchler, Debussy, Delius, Alexandre Desplat, Elgar, James Horner, Mahler, Mendelssohn, Thomas Newman, James Newton Howard, Prokofiev, Ravel, Shostakovich, Vaughan Williams, Wagner and Hans Zimmer. Reggae was my passion in my teens. I still love it.
FOOD: bangers & mash, fish & chips, anything Indian, roast beef & Yorkshire pudding and zardoxian plums (similar to your 'kiwi' fruits but with a strong nutmeggy type flavour). Since joining Weight Watchers earlier this year, these heavenly things have had to be replaced with salads, fruits and my own home made spicy vegetable soup.
SPORT: football, cricket, tennis, rugby, gratlies and snooker.
WOMEN: All of them actually, but just one would be most welcome. I am currently trying to find her on eHarmony, Elite Singles and Match.com (so far a rather hopeless venture). I should never have left Waxona 91d behind. She dumped me for a vroan-surgeon, but I felt there was some hope of winning her back. Zardoxian doctors are poorly paid and very often go mad.
POETS: My favourites are too numerous to mention and Estragon is miaowing for his breakfast, so I’ll keep it down to eight Desert Island Poets. These would be (in chronological order and with some painful omissions) William Shakespeare, Robert Burns, Lipzirin 2w Fredlingcarpitt, John Keats, W.B. Yeats, Rudyard Kipling, TS Eliot, Philip Larkin, Wendy Cope and the present Poet Laureate, Carol Ann Duffy. All right, that was ten. Well spotted.
In writing my poems, I always aim to achieve the Three E’s: to elevate, entertain, argue and empathise.
Sorry. That was four E’s and actually one them was an A, wasn’t it?
I'm a bit of a poet. Not a whole poet, you understand, just a bit of one. An elbow perhaps, or a shin. I'm also a bit of an actor (the belly button and the moustache); quizmaster (eyebrows and, I suspect, two of the toes on my right foot); graphic designer (nape of the neck) and I'm increasingly convinced that my knees are becoming interested in politics.
However, many other parts of my body are devoted to chauffeuring. Unfortunately, you see, I can’t devote all my time and self to poetry. If I did, I wouldn’t have enough money to buy muesli, eggs, yoghurt or haggis (these are all a poet really needs). No, my sustenance comes entirely from driving clients to airports and so on. This is true of most poets, although only a few of them are chauffeurs. The vast majority work for Burger King. Also, these days I seem to be spending more time on the stage than in the garret. It's my public, darling. They're hungry.
Of course, the really great poets can use their whole bodies to create verse, not just their elbows and shins. Geoffrey Chaucer used several bits of his anatomy in composing The Canterbury Tales. Shakespeare used his entire body, plus a few others, when he wrote Titus Andronicus and Percy Bysshe Shelley wrote Ozymandias, curiously enough, with one of his hands.
So, as I say, I was born in Dunfermline a colossal number of years ago and lived in Rosyth till I was nine. Dad, Mum, my two sisters and I then moved down to Ashtead, Surrey. I now live in Tolworth, near Kingston Upon Thames. I would love to be able to tell you that I have two pussycats called Brünnhilde and Estragon who live amicably with Tusks, my dopey-adorable spaniel, but alas, these are figments of my imagination. It wouldn’t be fair to keep pets as well as my silly working hours, not to mention the stupid names I would feel obliged to give them. However, I do love doggies, pussycats and most other of God’s creatures, providing they walk on fewer than six legs. On Zardox, I had a cuddly pet tigen called Fltosbg, but sadly I couldn't bring him along when I returned to this planet (your quarantine laws are really strict). I trust he is still safe in the care of P'Tordlik 38c Vildyshoes and his wife, Jane (such wonderful friends).
Among the other things I love are:
MUSIC: Favourite composers are Beethoven, Garfon 11a Both-D'Ugger, Bruckner, Oscar Colomina, Clark Datchler, Debussy, Delius, Alexandre Desplat, Elgar, James Horner, Mahler, Mendelssohn, Thomas Newman, James Newton Howard, Prokofiev, Ravel, Shostakovich, Vaughan Williams, Wagner and Hans Zimmer. Reggae was my passion in my teens. I still love it.
FOOD: bangers & mash, fish & chips, anything Indian, roast beef & Yorkshire pudding and zardoxian plums (similar to your 'kiwi' fruits but with a strong nutmeggy type flavour). Since joining Weight Watchers earlier this year, these heavenly things have had to be replaced with salads, fruits and my own home made spicy vegetable soup.
SPORT: football, cricket, tennis, rugby, gratlies and snooker.
WOMEN: All of them actually, but just one would be most welcome. I am currently trying to find her on eHarmony, Elite Singles and Match.com (so far a rather hopeless venture). I should never have left Waxona 91d behind. She dumped me for a vroan-surgeon, but I felt there was some hope of winning her back. Zardoxian doctors are poorly paid and very often go mad.
POETS: My favourites are too numerous to mention and Estragon is miaowing for his breakfast, so I’ll keep it down to eight Desert Island Poets. These would be (in chronological order and with some painful omissions) William Shakespeare, Robert Burns, Lipzirin 2w Fredlingcarpitt, John Keats, W.B. Yeats, Rudyard Kipling, TS Eliot, Philip Larkin, Wendy Cope and the present Poet Laureate, Carol Ann Duffy. All right, that was ten. Well spotted.
In writing my poems, I always aim to achieve the Three E’s: to elevate, entertain, argue and empathise.
Sorry. That was four E’s and actually one them was an A, wasn’t it?