Metaphysical Poetry

Can anyone tell me what the above term means? Metaphysical poetry, I mean.

I recall, a couple of centuries ago, studying a book entitled ‘The Metaphysical Poets’ and drawing the conclusion that metaphysical poets were just a bunch of dudes trying to convince girls to slip out of their underwear as soon and as often as possible. It is a fairly standard dude approach to life, and one to which I may have once prescribed myself (and, in truth, still do – theoretically, at least) but these particular dudes dressed the argument up in fancy language which somehow gave them literary credibility (though how much action they enjoyed between the sheets as a result is not recorded by history).

So ….

Inspired lines such as

“But at my back I always hear
Times winged chariot hurrying near”


“The Grave’s a fine and private place,
But none I think do there embrace”.

or even

“Thus, though we cannot make our Sun
Stand still, yet we will make him run.”

were just another way of saying, “listen, sweetheart – the bar is about to close and, let’s face it, neither of us are getting any younger. So how about it?”

I was somehow reminded of all this by a post from Cyranny who may have been, in fact, alluding to something else. But I realised that 97% of my so-called poetry has been metaphysical – in the sense that the primary objective has always been to seperate women from their underwear.

I wrote back to Cyranny, thus. Because …. what harm could there be in giving it another go?


For thee
I’d open any door
Yet leave thee thirsty,
Wanting more
I have not long to live
And not much more of me
To give
I am beyond my prime
We must hurry
There’s no time
Let’s pop the cork
Let’s take a drink
Let’s not take too much time
To think
Let’s not argue
Let’s have fun
I’ll love you
Then I’ll owe you one


5 thoughts on “Metaphysical Poetry

  1. Always thought Marvell must have been a bit of a creep (The lines about his coy mistress being deflowered by grave worms did not come from a healthy imagination). I much prefer your version. x


    1. You’re right, Eleanor. Despite his claims to the contrary one always suspected that Andrew might have been willing to dabble in necrophilia if worst came to worst. I have personally always preferred that the targets of my crude sexual advances were, at the very least, breathing … even if that strict ethical stance has placed limitations on my artistic expression.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. I realise that this is a little out of context and the reference to opening doors doesn’t make a lot of sense but it was in response to Cyranny who said …

    Open the door
    Darlin’, I’ve got
    Something special
    For thee…
    Open a good bottle,
    Put on your best smile
    and you
    just might get lucky!

    She really did. Say that. To me.

    Liked by 1 person

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