Having Fun with Poetry

I’m not participating in NaPoWriMo, as it’s too busy with work and children’s holidays accumulating this month. But I continue to write poetry as often as I can, even if I don’t always feel inspired. One good way to get into the groove is to play around with words, as if I were doing Scrabble or crosswords. The result is no masterpiece, but a great way to loosen up and perhaps produce better work in the following hour. Here is an example, where each verse starts with a letter of the alphabet, and I allowed some of the recent news to take over my subconscious.

Alphanumerical Fancies 

Aardvark primogeniture, he exudes all the confidence.

Barely born, he knows best,

Campaigns for privilege to remain untouched,

Dares others to get a word in edgeways.

Events all too graphic are kept from his gaze,

For ignorance is blissful,

Grovelling amiss, unless it is done well.

Hate-filled discourse seeps through filters

Into public space.

Jealous of those audience figures?

Know that it is not in vain, how easily

Like buttons are pressed

More substance and depth not required

No foodie picture is wasted

Old friends swoon in envy as we unleash

Perfect pouts

Quirky triumphs

Roiling we may be but

Surface is all, consumption

Trafficked widely, flung in our teeth,

Until one day, if ever,

Vaulting truths life’s misadventure

Wears out our curiosity about the world of others

X-rated, celebrated, maligned

Your small sequestered corner becomes precious

Zealot-free place.

 

Poetry and Politics

Poet Anthony Desmond raised an important topic recently over at dVerse Poets Pub: that most people would rather keep quiet about the matters that trouble the world and the people living in it. Should and could it be the poet’s role to talk about these things? If we believe in the power of words, shouldn’t we be using them to raise awareness, to start a debate? And can words really bring about change? Such a tricky topic, one that I often debate internally. The poem below was inspired by the online discussions.

Picture from The Guardian.
Picture from The Guardian.

I am an angry poet but

Can my words astonish, shame or fly

out into the world to cry

at the injustice or bring about change?

Give voice or succor,

placate when hatred piles on higher and higher?

Too much is shrieking

hurting

maiming

dying

And all I can think of to do is

shriek

fall

describe

weep

All I have are puny words

drowning in babble.

So I am an angry poet but

often

an all too quiet poet.