Tag Archives: poetry

To A disillusioned Idealist

What is this youth?
This search for truth?
What is this heart
You have not the art
To conceal
But must reveal
Your ideals?
What is this age
This rage
That the world does not conform
To some abstract plan
of man?
History does warn.
Why then so forlorn?

Literary Merit

Recently I purchased 2 books of poetry: “I Just Stepped Out” by the late Felix Dennis and “Essential Poems”, edited by Neil Astley. Both works have much to recommend them (Dennis is a wonderful poet and I am currently enjoying leafing through Astley’s anthology). I am, however irritated by the prominent endorsements by famous people carried by both works.
While I am pleased that the great and the good derived pleasure from the books in question this is, ultimately a matter of supreme indifference to me. I will make up my own mind as to the value of a given work and the endorsement (or lack thereof) by a celebrity will not influence my view of the merits(or otherwise) of the book in question. In this media obsessed age the danger is that readers will base their decisions regarding book purchases on the literary tastes of those in the public eye. To my mind the opinion of the lady working behind the counter in my local bookshop caries more weight than that of a celebrity who has been asked for his or her view. Even then I will, in the final analysis make up my own mind as regards whether to buy a particular book.
Both of the above works do (as stated above) contain much that is praiseworthy. However the mere fact that a given work is endorsed by a well known individual should not cause us to conclude that it does, in fact possess literary merit and is, on this basis worthy of our attention.
As a writer I am thrilled whenever someone likes my work, whether that person is a shop assistant in my local supermarket or a photogenic celebrity is of no concern to me. While I in no way blame writers for seeking endorsements, I do worry that it leads to a mindset whereby a segment of the reading public come to believe that just because Mr X says a book is worthy of their attention it is, in fact worthy of their attention. This is, quite patently not the case.
As always I would be interested in your views on this subject.

Kevin

Commonplace

The dress she bought
Was cheap and short.
The bus she caught.
The vehicle’s slow pace
Her burning face.
Barely coping.
For salvation hoping.
Groping
For a way out.
Inwardly she shouts.
People are about
Staring
She is almost beyond caring.
A suburban place
His flushed face.
A girl’s disgrace.
How very common place.

Sitting At My Desk

Sitting at my desk
Thinking of the final rest.
No need to weep
When I take my final sleep.
I will not know
When I go
To the place where snow
Does not fall
And even the raven’s call
Can not penetrate
For beyond the eternal gate
There is neither love nor hate.