To kick start your Poetry challenge on the Lerpoolian website I would like to offer a salute to the late, great Tylerius, alias Tyler, J.E.A. (60 Howson's), or Tony Tyler as he was in later life.
He was a splendid versifier (none of us would dare ever to call ourselves poets) who once wrote a lengthy Ode giving reference to a large number of our school contemporaries. He titled his Ode “Tylerius”. It was remarkable for a schoolboy in 1959 in that it was type-written on about three highly appropriate pages of foolscap. If anybody from that year might still have a copy of the original “Tylerius” I would love to see it again. It was humorous light verse at its best.
Sadly, Tony Tyler died in 2006, a mere few days after having been diagnosed with cancer. His obituary in the national press recorded that in the last few days of his life, knowing that his case was terminal, he said to his wife and his mother-in-law, “I’d like you to know that, when your turn comes, this is quite dealable with.” Tony Tyler, I salute you:-
Most memorable of them all, of old, perhaps was Tyler:
The lunatic dyslexic and anthology compiler.
Uneducable was he, with dyslexia then unknown:
And, likewise, chronic stammer, saw him largely on his own.
Indomitable spirit, though, shone through his every move
From joining in the Lower School and on to the Remove.
The Royal Canee Society was founded in his name.
He had it right, throughout, and treated life as but a game.
With discipline unknown to him and Prefects but a joke,
He had a cultured taste in wine and best cigars to smoke.
Did he learn anything at school, before he could be rid?
Somehow, somehow, English Lanuage was the thing he did.
It saw him through a short career as soldier of The Queen
And likewise the Constabulary claimed that he had been
In training in their ranks but could not cope, because of stammer,
And all the time he nursed his talent in pure English Grammar.
And so a journalist he was. The Beatles were around.
New Musical Express then gave him feet upon the ground:
And he became its Editor, to boot, ‘twas no mean feat;
And here he found his metier, beside the means to eat.
For many years he did it and authority became,
In culture of vox populi he gained a rank of fame:
Authority on Beatles and their Record Repertoire ;
And also an anthologist of Tolkein, J.R.R.,
In published works of high repute within respective sphere,
The two works being published in the one-same golden year;
And both, to give due glory to his story and its twist,
Were ranked that year, the two, in New York Times Best Seller’s List.
That such erratic youth could make such good gives golden glow:
He cocked his snooks and happily, as any fule now kno.
He baked the finest humble pie that ever I have eaten;
He showed that, when the spirit’s high, no man is ever beaten.