Poetry

I’ve never really ‘got’ poetry. Never read much of it, never wondered why I didn’t understand it much. The opaqueness of some of the wording, mired in pseudo-imagery often two or three steps from the actual language on show just puts me off. Its like read Olde English.

It could reflect a lack of patience which I could never argue against. Bourdieu would argue my working class parents couldn’t never imbue me with the right cultural capital to find the answers. But like post-modern art, possibly I don’t need to understand.

I should try though. There must be value in such an ancient craft. Linden is always coming up with a poem to read. I’ve watched her on stage, admired her guts and still left none the wiser. Below is a poem written by a friend from Notts Uni Jas and dedicated to me. I’m not sure the sentiments are about me or reflect our friendship but its a nice to read. Thanks x

It’s not like I haven’t felt this before
But it’s quite right I’ve not sang of it at all
‘til now
It’s a feeling that sweeps my clarity
Into something smudged on pages
That blows away a fine peace,
Built trickily and took ages
It sets its mess and lays eggs
Abruptly hatches confusion
So blacks and whites turn grey
And I’m blinded by delusion
The delicate definitions that
I built on which to sit
Crush under weight of thought
And to blurriness, submit
Thinking thoughts of loves and hates
And what’s the difference now?
I’m scared it’s only true I’m hated
Like when I hated me not being Miss Lau
But this isn’t that; it’s worse
Inconsequent, shot all around
Cannot shield from this dimension
When blasts inside my head abound
So abrupt and sudden
I wasn’t expecting to sing
Of something so morose when I’m
Still raw from singing blessings
Now every shade of grey in sight
Isn’t welcome by defences
The love which saw each shade a friend
Was destroyed by muddy senses
I think I reached a threshold
Of okay-ness to ask
Of okay-ness to expect but I
Think I went too far, it passed
Under my feet, a line that I
In my own head conceived
Now even you of pure light
Will be disbelieved
Yes and those from who I’ve drunk
So deep; I can’t even see,
Instantly, how you
Ever cared for me
But I recognise
This ugliness that’s why
I sang and through song…
Salvation is nigh.

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