Most days I would try to write a poem; it is a practice, as I suppose is meditation, or smiling, or watching the world go by
Thursday, 24 November 2011
Indifference
If only it was indifferent
Instead it is silent
Mute
If only it was significant
Instead it is blank
Brute
Charles Causley I believe once said;
“That a good poem was always about something else”
If that means different
About some kind of piled up, pent
He's really quite astute
If that means insignificant
Is that to slide down the blank
And blind refuse shute
Carl Dennis wrote;
“And write about the life
You can talk about”
You left to walk away
How often have you heard it said
Or said it yourself
You would talk, but
Have not a thought to say
Just words with which you play
Jane Kenyon in her poem Happiness:
“No, happiness is the uncle you never knew
About who flies a single engine plane”
Over moor of purple bramble hue
Under cider presses wooden screw
The hope is ever new
In factories and submarines
We bang the drum
Tam the tambourine
The love now blue
Was for a while
Ultramarine
…this poem missed out on the collection Massage slow, mellow in - Love off Campus to find out which poems did make it click here