Category: poetry appreciation

emptying the handbag of my mind

Last time I said I’d return to Keats and ‘glut[ting] thy sorrow on a morning rose‘, but I’ve got a bit distracted by a Frost poem. Maybe it’s not distraction, though. Perhaps I haven’t had enough coffee yet to remember why the poem joined up—in my head at least—with the Keats and, according to my notes, Frankenstein and the recent film Freud’s Last Session (!). Blimey. Perhaps best just read it before I say any more. Here’s ‘Acceptance‘ by Robert Frost.

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our small durance

Oooooh I do like me a nice bit of intertextuality.* When this poem plopped in my inbox I was very glad to meet it. I’d be very interested to see what you make of ‘Gerard Manley Hopkins‘ by Leontia Flynn. For ease of reference, here’s the poem with which Flynn’s poem has such a close relationship.

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talking or lying…?

A friend of mine recently dealt with a potentially tricky situation between us with tremendous grace and courage. Their honesty brought to mind this poem about its opposite—a poem I have long loved with a deep sense of melancholy, fearing that it spoke The Truth. It’s always a great relief when I remember the poem speaks the poet’s truth, with which we all may resonate sometimes, but which need not be The Whole or Only. See what you think about Larkin’s ‘Talking in Bed‘:

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it’s been a while

And shit has been more and less together in the meantime, but at last I’m able to anticipate regular posting again. Hurrah! I thought I’d start with a simple one, partly because it’s about my other work as a therapist (which has swallowed a lot of my time in the last year) and partly because I’m chuffed that it was chosen as an entry in the Samaritans Book of Hope anthology. Here it is:

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dependence

In the middle of a feverish round of Covid this poem dropped into my inbox (I guess it would be on the 4th July, now I come to think about it): ‘Dependence Day‘ by John Daniel. Struggling as I was with the necessary isolation of Testing Positive, I found the poem really hit home. See how you like it.

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making yourself at home…

I guess it’s not surprising that this poem appeals to me so much, living as I am in a new place with no contacts. The poem’s been sitting on my desktop for weeks, waiting for when the internet was plumbed in and the stars aligned and I was ready to think about writing. So here it is: ‘The Aunty Poem‘ by Mohja Kahf.

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moving house

Well, I can recommend you don’t do a google search for a poem about moving house. There’s a awful lot from the Verse For A Greetings Card/emesis school out there. However, I did want to give notice that the column will be on leave for a few weeks while I find the computer, get the interweb connected and do all the other stuff that you do when you move home. And I couldn’t inflict Larkin’s ‘Home is so sad‘ on you, micro masterpiece though it is. So I persisted in my search, and offer you a spot of Billy Collins which made me laugh. Have a go at ‘Another Reason Why I Don’t Keep a Gun in the House‘. Let’s hope that this doesn’t foretell the state of things with my new neighbours…

Look forward to being back with you soon.

too much reality

There’s a lot of reality to deal with at the moment. As ever, I’m helped by poetry—and by sharing it; and by the conversations it stimulates. For some reason this poem in particular has been calling me over the last few days. Perhaps ‘The Gate‘ by Marie Howe might be helpful for you too. Let me know.

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