Category: poetry appreciation

different pictures of happiness

It’s that time of year when I start fulminating, inwardly or out loud, about DFS ads and the Family Merrie Christmas Ideal as perpetuated therein. I don’t know why it’s DFS in particular that gets the sharp end of my tongue—everyone’s at it—but there’s just something about those cosily-jumpered families laughing and snuggling on their spanking new sofas which gets my goat. The latest iteration has caused me, as it does every year, to think about families, the different shapes happiness can take, and the difference between loneliness and solitude. I like the way this poem by Minnie Bruce Pratt explores that difference (among other things). Here is ‘The Sound of One Fork‘.

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clamouring toward it

A poem, today, to remind us that good things can happen. No, not Sheenag Pugh’s ‘Sometimes‘. Although I’m always happy to revisit that, line 6 is a bit close to home at the moment. Instead I offer you a poem by the wonderful Mary Oliver which someone brought to a poetry group I facilitate (on 6th November. A lot of poems reminding us to be hopeful were brought that day!). See what you make of Mary Oliver’s ‘Halleluiah‘.

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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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