Books like I Don't Like Poetry — picked by fans

I’m a completionist. I take pleasure in completing a game or task involving many steps that I can tick off as I go.

A to Z lists thrill me like nothing else can! Seeing different minds tackle the same 26 letters each in their own way, never gets old. I was a grown-up when I first discovered Edward Gorey and found him amusing.

But when I discovered this book, the hairs on the back of my neck tingled. He was taking on the A to Z challenge! And he nailed it. Each line is concise and yet tells me everything I need to know.

It’s a short book, but since each line comes with an illustration showing that letter’s victim’s last moments, it’s worth pausing to savor each page.

My life is hard to define, but that doesn’t stop me from constantly trying. I’ve got a couple of autobiographies in progress, even though I was convinced that no one cared about the trivialities of my existence.

And then I found Lyndsay Rush. In her poetry, I saw so many of my own little details. To use an overworked cliché, I felt seen.

Through Lyndsay’s words, I realized that in so many ways, it’s not just me. It was never just me. By pointing out the minuscule details that fill our lives, she gave me permission to approve of my own. That is not a bit much. That’s just right.

While watching the movie Logan’s Run, I was delighted to hear T.S. Eliot’s charming poem, “The Naming of Cats,” recited by Peter Ustinov’s character.

I tracked down this book and fell in love with all fourteen cat-centric poems. Some are full of surprises. Others are quite tongue-twisty; those smugly dared me to just try to read them aloud.

My cat listened to my efforts to do so. He seemed fascinated by my struggle to enunciate phrases such as “At prestidigitation, and at legerdemain, he'll defy examination, and deceive you again.”

Almanac, did you say? Why yes, another delight for completionists like me!

There’s plenty of poetry scattered through these 365 entries, but I’m also intrigued by the satire and history pieces, many of which turn a sharp eye on politics, the environment, equal rights, sex, and more, mostly from a historic point of view. 

I received this book as a Christmas gift in 1980, the year it was published. I still have that copy. Many of the “modern” poetry and prose entries are a bit cringey by today’s standards, but the past is what it is. Reading those often leaves me contemplating the course of history and the changes I have witnessed during my own lifetime.

This book is a favourite of mine to read aloud to young children.

The writing is musical with a predictable rhythm that young children enjoy. The story has a repetitive chorus that children instinctively chant along to. As children repeat the chorus, they feel like they are reading, which gives them a sense of achievement.

The story is full of fun onomatopoeia words that children love saying, such as swishing, squelchy, and stomping. This language also allows children to act out the words using their whole bodies, which adds to the reading experience.

The story is full of anticipation and just the right amount of suspense for this age group. This book will keep children engaged from beginning to end.

The author’s grief after the loss of his teenage son is beautifully realised in both the words and the fabulous illustrations by Quentin Blake. This book eloquently describes the invisible symptoms of depression that I know from experience can be incredibly difficult to explain, such as how a big smile can hide deep, rotten anguish; and how said anguish can pervade every part of your everyday life, how unfair life can be. 

The book is very real and earnest but ultimately hopeful. Rosen explains in simple detail how he is able to keep going, despite the sorrow inside of him. He has learned how to survive, which is a task that he knows can seem insurmountable to some people; and he uses this book to spread that crucial knowledge.

Like Colville, Nicolson is not very important in himself (a backbench MP for most of the time) but one who matters because he knows so many greater figures and because he writes with such honesty – particularly interesting when his predictions turn out to be wrong. If you get hooked, you can read the earlier edition, which is in three volumes.

What all of Joanna Nadin’s books have in common is her ability to capture the voice of her characters so perfectly they feel truly alive. The children of class 4B have that loveable lunacy I remember from teaching kids this age. That authenticity is what has kids falling off their chairs with laughter, and what makes this such a great book to read aloud. You’ll find yourself repeating catchphrases later. Rikin Parekh’s illustrations add another layer of brilliance and perfectly capture the characters and their comedy antics. Literally hilarious!

“Dad says well at least I haven’t been arrested. Grandpa says being arrested would be getting off lightly and in his day he had to walk five miles to school barefoot and eat gravel for lunch. 

Mum who works at the council says, ‘I have spent all day listening to Mr. Butterworth bang on about bollards and the last thing I… show more.

Martin was a British Army officer who learned to speak fluent Pashto, and spent long hours talking with and gaining the trust of various players in Helmand Province. Based on those discussions, he has put together the only oral history of the conflict there available in any language. By starting in 1978, he clearly shows that the fighting thirty years later had much deeper roots, and that more often than not, the causes of conflict were not apparent to Western eyes.

Writing a really good spooky short story is hard. Writing 13 of them is near-impossible. Yet Allen has put together an anthology of sheer terror, with each story hinging on something simple and mundane. Basically, Allen makes you afraid of everything, and does it with a smile.