What use is poetry?

http://www.worldliteraturetoday.org/2013/september/what-use-poetry-meena-alexander

 Extract

Poetry takes as its purview what is deeply felt and is essentially unsayable; that is the paradox on which the poem necessarily turns. A poet uses language as a painter uses color, a primary material out of which to make art. But language that is used all the time and all around us—in sound bites, advertisements, political rhetoric, newsprint—needs to be rinsed free so that it can be used as the stuff of art.

The poem in its act of meaning-making turns away from the literal, its truth bound to what can be evoked. And evocation is sparked by memory. Abhinavagupta (ca. 950–1020 ce) realized this clearly. In his reflections, he writes of how poetry—far from dealing with the literal—reaches into what lies in memory, in memory fragments. It is in this way that rasa, the quick of aesthetic pleasure, is reached:

 

A tale of married life

Dotty cats 2

Stan and Mary went in town
To buy Stan a new dressing gown.
But he wanted a woollen one
In March, that is not on.

The shops are full of summer clothes
But Stan’s not warm enough for those.
Mary likes to look around
But see how old Stan frowns.

So Mary says,I’ll go online
I’m sure I’ll find some fully lined
Made of wool and acrylic…
Them you can make your pick.

Thank you,Mary,you are kind
Despite that  strange and anxious mind.
I am the best-dressed man in town
And soon I’ll have my gown.

Would you like cafe au lait?
I have my pension,I shall pay.
Very nice,dear Mary said
I’d like a piece of bread.

Won’t you have a slice of cake?
I know it’s not quite what I make.
No,just plain bread,sweet Mary said
She then turned very red.

Mary,you look very hot
Is it healthy in this spot?
The central heating is too high
She gave a weary sigh.

They drank their coffee and made jokes
About old folk who never spoke
They bought some fresh fish for Emile..
They alway shop with zeal.
..
When they got home.Stan dialled Dave
Who told him he was very brave
and not to stand near a bus door
Or he’d fall on the floor.
.
Oh,how i’d like to lie down there
With my mistress Annie fair.
but Mary is at home today
So I’ll just have to pray.

If you’re in pain and can’t have sex,
They say that prayer is second best
Morphine is so hard to get
and it makes me feel sick.

So tomorrow Mary works
Stan and Annie have their perks
Dave calls round to bath the cat…
How obscene is that?

If you would like your cat washed
Or if your shopping has got squashed
Just dial 99999
The service is divine.

And, absent kindness, nothing has much worth

How like a prison is my cubicle
And yet the chains  which bind me can’t be seen.
But my greed and envy is indubitable
I am dumb and cruel and also very mean.

My cubicle’d be mansion  to the poor.
Yet to me it ‘s  small  for I am used to  space.
No doubt my wealth has made many feel sour…
But do not envy me for I’m disgraced.

No longer am I free in heart and soul.
I’m trapped and  it is by my own hand.
i am fractured ,I am broken I’m not whole.
I live  and yet I nothing understand.

Live  benignly for we live but once  on  earth
And, absent kindness, nothing has much worth

Satire

Satire

 

Function of Satire

The role of satire is to ridicule or criticize those vices in the society, which the writer considers a threat to civilization. The writer considers it his obligation to expose these vices for the betterment of humanity. Therefore, the function of satire is not to make others laugh at persons or ideas they make fun of. It intends to warn the public and to change their opinions about the prevailing corruption/conditions in society.

Blindsight

Blindsight scattered my wits
Like whitened bones
Across the deserts of my mind.
I descended into blackness.
Love shrank into the tame cat
By the fire,unacknowledged hate
Grew to fill the room.
I stared too much,
A full stop grew gigantic
Crowded out
All the words in the sentence
I saw nothing but this dot
Now a gigantic black hole
Into which I was dragged.
An energy coming from within my own head
Sucked me into the black hole.
That place was the wrong sort of dearkness.
Within that full stop,
Love Fundamental became invisible.
Disappered into the dark.
I dragged my eyes away
And saw the moon appear , so eerie,
It shone,grey silver.
If I had opened my eyees wider
I would not now lament
What I destroyed in the wormhole
Of the black dot that drew my eye
Into a tunnel of darkness
It blinded me to the light
Did not let me read the sentences
Beside the full stop.
An error of focus left hate
Unacknowledged,unmitigated unredeemed,
Kept from love or goodness
Afraid to spoil my love with hate,
The fear of hate became
That which spoiled all else else,
By freezing Love itself

The memory lasts

midsummer days evoke entrancing pasts,
where children played in joyous, daisied fields,
with buttercups so bright the memory lasts
a freedom that our conscious growth will steal.
.

those stones and leaves and many coloured flowers
were gathered into images that glow
yet later we forget those treasured hours
when for a while we lived in life’s deep flow

we did not look from faraway, but felt at one
we lived as did the birds high in the trees
now we see and write,experiencing has gone;
we no longer live like flowers  nor swirl with bees

to lose ourselves in nature is a joy
which to our adult selves we must restore

The triolet

When I saw what a triolet was I didn’t think it  would be very expressive or useful.But after writing a few I began to get a feel for it in this one below so I am really pleased with the form.The song-like quality appeals to me too.I have changed some of the lines so the copies are not exact.In this triolet, that fitted very well when I changed speaker to listener

As we loved

The honeyed  words invented as we loved
Now have no other  speaker but myself
Lost, unique, the husband, still beloved
The honeyed  words  invented  as we loved
From my  speech, our  words   must be removed.
I can  no longer  use  our words, our wealth.
The chosen  words  invented as we loved
Now have no other  listener but myself

 

 

I gave my heart away

I gave my heart away to a false love
By his strange stories ,I had been beguiled.
He whispered such sweet music like a  dove.
He charmed me with his words and with his smiles.

I was a fool and so I paid the price
For I was hoping for real love  to come.
But now I know desire made me unwise
He needed power, his love was but a  sham.

We must beware when for such love we seek
We must see clearly or we’ll love a ghost.
We must not assent when we’re feeling weak.
For then mirages manifest the most.

Remember, too ,that love is called a game.
And do not answer when  they call your name

Mijn ogen waren ingesteld op een andere wereld

 

De witte geranium was een verjaardagscadeau
Het bloeide uitbundig alle vorige zomer lang
Als de winter kwam, ik verborg het in de heg
Op hem en zijn geliefde leven te verlengen beschermen

In het voorjaar nam ik het uit om het ruimte te geven.
Reeds bloemen waren zichtbaar en groot
En zo leefde op mijn patio stappen
Ik hoopte dat veel knoppen snel zou ontstaan

Mijn ogen waren ingesteld op een andere wereld
Ik keek niet naar het voor zeven weken
Dezelfde grote bloemen waren nog er zijn op zoek grijs
Eindelijk, besefte ik mijn gedachten had geslapen

Ik raapte het op te trekken uit de pot
Het brak in tweeën; het was de mens gemaakt, oh dwaas!
Toch is voor een heel jaar, had het me bedrogen;
Alsof ik aanzag tin voor kostbare juwelen.

Oh, afwezige geest; oh wreed verwarde blik.
Oh, vrouw blind; hoe dwaas waren mijn dagen

I miei occhi sono stati fissati su di un altro mondo

 

Il geranio bianco era un regalo di compleanno
E ‘fiorito abbondantemente tutta la scorsa lunga estate
Quando venne l’inverno, ho nascosto nella siepe
Per proteggerlo e la sua prolungare la vita cara

In primavera l’ho tirato fuori per dargli spazio.
Già fiori erano visibili e grandi
E così è vissuto sulle mie passi patio
Speravo che molte gemme sarebbero presto emergere

I miei occhi sono stati fissati su di un altro mondo
Io non guardo per sette settimane
Le stesse grandi fiori erano ancora arrivati alla ricerca grigio
Alla fine, ho capito la mia mente stava dormendo

L’ho preso per tirarlo dalla pentola
Si è rotto a metà; si è fatto uomo, oh ingannare!
Eppure, per un intero anno, mi aveva ingannato;
Come se ho scambiato stagno per gioielli preziosi.

Oh, la mente assente; oh crudelmente confusa sguardo.
Oh, cieca, e come insensato sono stati i miei giorn

The limerick returns

My mother was given to fainting
Whenever I did any painting
So instead I  got writing
Quite out of her sighting
In case  any of my words should be tainting

My father was oblivious to all
After he had  his great fall
He died on a Sunday
Got buried on Monday
Since then we ain’t had any calls

My mother then got a grey cat
As she wept, it  would sit on her lap.
She asked the new curate
If he would baptise it
But he said :No, for   the cat is   too fat.

I studied the Old and the New
The Bible had nothing on view
Does God love  the thin more?
Are the fat such an eyesore?
I bit off the end of a pew.

Wood is quite hard to digest
And causes internal unrest.
But I had to express
My  fatal duress
Later,no doubt,I’d confess.

 

 

Stan recovers while Mary sinks

Stan was recovering slowly from his  surgery though his legs were still weak.He sat in the window with Emile on his lap looking at the darkening autumnal sky .
I’ll be glad when I get those new micro fibre cloths,he whispered to the kindly,handsome black cat.The windows are very dirty.I have slipped up in my duties
Well,don’t worry,miaowed Emile,I can see out which is the main thing.We can always ring 999 and get Dave to close the curtains or you must pull them at 7 pm.It’s getting dark earlier now.Emile is a real dictator .
Mary was upstairs unblocking the toilet,doing the finances and changing the sheets and various other chores she wished to finish off.
I’ll be glad when my operation is over,she thought .Stan will not relax till that is done,nor shall I either.I wonder how I will look with my nose carved up,she murmured.Will I have a big scar?Maybe I should take a few selfies to remember me as I am…On the other hand,maybe not a good idea.
Annie came in via the back door.. which was always unlocked in that ancient  British manner.
Anyone here? she shouted merrily.
No,shouted Stan. humorously
Two of us are here.
Don’t show off,Stan,she said,I know you are a clever man.I’ve come to see if you need any help over the weekend.,getting meals or killing mice and so on
I think we are more or less ready,he informed her quite petulantly.How about making us a nice hot cup of tea?
Alright,baby she murmured.I’ll do whatever you want…I mean it.Anything,
Stan said nothing but he wondered how far she would go to show her love for him…would she share a hot bath,for example.His thoughts ran on until he fell into a soft slumber on his leather recliner chair with matching footstool and head rest contrasting benignly with the white wool carpet
IMG_0201
Anne crept in and put a cup of tea by his side.She looked down affectionately at his noble nose and wondered if he had any Jewish blood…. she was not the first to wonder by a long stalk…maybe the York community of mediaeval Jews had contributed to his Norse genetic pool before they were exterminated in Clifford’s Tower so evilly
.That would be good if their genes had been passed on into Staan’s Richmond family.Stan was certainly brilliant and astute though not very practical.
Mary came down and opened her wi hi Pad…she saw a long email from her brother.
Hi Mary,Jane is very upset indeed that you did not  “Like ” her new avatar on CaseBook…everybody in the world will know now that you preferred her with her glasses on…I don’t know how she will ever get over it…She was crying all day and cursing all night,
Mary was very fond of her niece Jane but was unsure why not “liking” a photo was such a calamity..as the young folk are often out of their heads when they snap each other in nightclubs or other intriguingly dangerous places where Mary had not yet been
Her brother asked her not to let Jane know what he had told her..
That’s a pity,thought Mary.I could have said to delete my comment or to upload a new photograph.As Mary was very tired she could hardly think even elliptically.
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I need to act now, she said to herself, because after the op I might not be able to wear my glasses so I shan’t be able to read.Suddenly Mary got a strange paralysing pain in her neck and jaw running down to her chest or bosom
She sat down and sucked a GNT tablet…….
Well,this is no good,she decided….I am going to have a heart attack with all the cleaning and sheets and towels to wash.
After a while, she and Annie discussed it in the kitchen.
You know ,Mary,you should really have called an ambulance.Are you ok now?
Yes,said Mary,I think I did too much upstairs.Alas it was not the sort of thing she and Stan had done 30 years ago,
I wonder why your brother told you right now about Casebook.Has he no judgment or feelings?
It seems not, said Mary ruefully.I had no idea it was so evil to dislike a photograph..now Annie,my password is
ZebrasR567&$0477Ggpdd84666££££lionsteatime459.
My God ,said Annie.How do you remember it?
That’s what I wonder too,Mary responded warmly.
Delete my account at that website.I don’t want to find I have caused a narcissistic wound to any other young family members.One is too much.
But,don’t they see that “Like” means nothing unless one can also “Dislike”………
They don’t think,called Stan…I want you to have a rest Mary.. you need as much as you can get.. put the “holiday response” on the computer and come and sit by the fire with me.
Emile was writing notes of the conversation but could make neither head nor tail of it.
Were Stan and Mary who both were undergoing painful treatment and surgery so unimportant to these relatives?
They have no skills in evaluating events and their importance, he thought.If only Iris Murdoch were here instead of Dave our transsexual and amiable paramedic then we might have a philosophical discussion about feelings and values.Then again we could. have a nap instead,he told himself sharply.Resting is a very spiritual  activity.
He was mulling over some Jungian ideas about character types and lack of Feeling until he saw some pigeons outside and began to feel rather hungry…so he dropped his pen and ran out of the back door not remembering to shut it behind him,of course

My eyes were set upon some other world

The white geranium was a birthday gift
It flowered profusely all  last summer long
When winter came, I hid it in  the  hedge
To protect it and its loved life prolong

In spring I took it out to give it light.
Already flowers were visible and large
And so it lived  upon my  patio steps
I hoped that many buds would soon emerge

My eyes were set upon  some other world
I did not look at it for  seven weeks
The same large flowers were there yet looking grey
At last ,I realised  my mind  had been asleep

I picked it up to pull it from the pot
It broke in half ; it was   man  made,oh fool!
Yet for an entire year, it had me tricked;
As if I mistook tin for precious jewels.

Oh, absent mind; oh cruelly confused gaze.
Oh,woman blind;how foolish are  your days!

 

What is alliteration?

 

 

16womens-well-writers-slide-VPU3-master675http://literarydevices.net/alliteration

The Latest School by G K Chesterton

 See the flying French depart
Like the bees of Bonaparte,
Swarming up with a most venomous vitality.
Over Baden and Bavaria,
And Brighton and Bulgaria,
Thus violating Belgian neutrality.

And the injured Prussian may
Not unreasonably say
"Why, it cannot be so small a nationality
Since Brixton and Batavia,
Bolivia and Belgravia,
Are bursting with the Belgian neutrality.
"

By pure Alliteration
You may trace this curious nation,
And respect this somewhat scattered Principality;
When you see a B in Both
You may take your Bible oath
You are violating Belgian neutrality.

He had a mobile face with rubber skin

He had a mobile face with rubber skin
I guess he loved me   before I   did love  him
Like proofs in mathematics wear minds thin
And doctrines of religion make us sin
He made me laugh   and Q.E.D we’re kin.
He touched me deeply where our souls begin
He had a mobile face with rubber skin
He loved me , and soon  I  did love him

Images that first alarm the mind

A painting by Paul Klee connected us
I’d never seen  the abstract use of space
I  felt myself    more  open and unearthed
All beings  floating  in  this   spaceless  gaze

Perhaps they  float like we did in the womb
They pass across like fish  pass  in  the sea
The more ,I looked the more   it touched my  depths
And  knew this was a place where I could be.

In our life  of feeling ,seeing  true
Matters more than IQ  or high speed
It’s judgment,taste ,and feeling all refined;
Perception and response to others’ need

So images that  at first  alarm   the mind
Transform our  souls till we are humankind