When Minor Poets Are Ignorant, but Readable

Do you ever find that wrestling with tedious textbook stuff can choke the life out of inspiration and creativity? If we're not careful it can take the shine off our hobbies and become a time-consuming exercise in its own right. Let's face it, for many poets the silly names given for structures within a poem remain detached from the actual practical process of getting it written.

Nevertheless, a lack of concern about structural specifics might leave us more amateur than we imagine ourselves to be! A bit of background knowledge isn't so bad and it's normal to want to learn, but what's all that drab theory compared to the living spark? And I'd bet many of us will forget much of what we learn anyway. I certainly do.

It’s a bald fact that most aspiring writers read to a much higher standard than they write to, so really good material is rare. But it’s not a high performance racing engine we’re building. There’s no need to get carried away with the how to if it gets in the way of the craft.

This is especially true for the talented amateur poet who may carefully arrange words in deliberate free flowing structures that best express the meaning. The thought has to be expressed as suitably as possible, preferably without capitulating to common phraseology. It's not necessarily a modern approach—it's what works best for the individual. But the emphasis here is on the intelligent formulation of words and phrases rather than simply firing them out as they arrive and then giving the whole thing a title that will do fine. That approach may work for some, but honing and shaping the first basic draft is undoubtedly the craft of poetry1 and it doesn't need textbook instructions to make it happen.

Iamb, spondee, enjambment and trochee could be Swahili words for spanner, armpit, insemination and anorak for all this poet cares. Despite poets' ignorance and indifference some are able to produce stimulating and satisfying poems. Who’s to say how much we need to know to hit the nail on the head? Not every successful drummer has been professionally trained in the nuances of paradiddles, doubles and flams.

It's a fact that an impressive knowledge of poetry's specifics doesn’t necessarily enhance output or guarantee readability. Regardless of knowledge some are left with mere wooden rhyme and metre simply because raw talent, intelligent creativity, discipline and a sound grasp of the English language are thin on the ground. But it gets a lot worse than that.

If, against the odds, you’re a poet with an acceptable point-of-reference—definitely the product of good experience, lively talent and intense discipline—try spending several hours trawling through poetry websites. You’ll cry all over your keyboard, if you haven't already.

And how about this for our pièce de résistance:

When greedy moguls and smart entrepreneurs are angling for cash all they have to do is dangle the juicy carrot of Publication in writers' faces. Scams are common. Whether online or on paper, droves are soon queuing up to part with their money so they can share a load of twonk they fondly imagine is worth reading. Amateur authors mean well and get something legitimate out of what they write. They obviously get a kick out of being published. But really, where are we going with poetry if we can't see what's wrong here? Not everything on these sites is dross, I’ll give you that, but far too much of it isn’t worth a pixel.

Experience is good! Isn't it? Well, I once—and only once!—had a run-in with banality. I spent some time on a pretty feeble poetry forum where I was harassed by cheesy populist offerings that stamped all over my creative sensibilities. Yes, I know. It’s always been there for those who like to rally around it. It's regularly dished up online and included in homemade greeting cards. Fair enough. But forcing it below your fingernails in the painful defence of artistic expression is pure masochism. I freely admit I'm not a poetic maestro, but I just couldn’t take it anymore. Facing down “inelegant and watery sentimentality”2 is like standing in the path of stampeding poodles. So I was promptly told off, called a "fool" and a “stupid” “jerk” and flagged as a renegade troll.

Shame and infamy in one foul, fell swoop.

I've since come to my senses and abandoned ship, but there's a serious point to be made here. The poet's persistence, command of the English language and dedication to individualistic expression are totally priceless. We should never be content with less than our very best work. We should tirelessly resist the temptation to lean repeatedly on sickly-sweet sentimentalism and time-worn clichés. These are a limp substitute for artful creativity and original thinking. Worse still, it's downright intolerable when the writer's poetical compositions and use of language are routinely clumsy. The fact that these things are common should inspire us to better things.

By now you may be thinking there's more than a hint of hypocrisy here on Slashed Canvas. No, not at all. I'm not saying the poetry here is fantastic. I wish! If I could write good poetry—particularly the sort that may stick more readily because of rhyme—it would go something like this:

But, after a lot of failures, bitterness and punishing self-analysis I’d like to think I’m largely unaffected by ego and meaningless “pissing contests”, to use an apt though disagreeable term. These things swell the Internet like steroids. The moment you puff and blow and decide you’ve reached a notable pinnacle of personal achievement is the same moment you show yourself to be inadequate. It’s like humility itself: the instant you think you have it, it goes away.

Yes, what you read here won't count for too much in the lofty world of pithy poets. I'm under no illusions. But expressing myself conscientiously (that is, with all the skill I can muster) matters a great deal to me. Writing poetry is wonderfully intense, endlessly satisfying. Some may think that writing lots of poems is as stupefying as watching England struggle at cricket (again) or sitting in the dentist's waiting room next to a chatty individual who runs the local Fungi Identification Club. But it is in fact very rewarding.

Writing should be a precise focal point that enables many to define who and what they are. So in keeping with the spirit of this website, I can't give as much as a finger snap if my offerings are well received or not. I'm proud to be a minor poet and happy with that. Without a doubt I meaningfully enjoy what I do here even though it can be very hard work. And slow: a poem can take too many hours to compose, possibly over several days. Of course it’s a bonus when somebody contacts me, and some have.

To be honest, for many middling but diligent poets it doesn't really matter what a trochee is.

About The Poems, if you're interested...

Melancholy bedevils poetry. Do you not think so? Wordsworth said, “…poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings; it takes its origin from emotion recollected in tranquillity… Poetry is the image of man and nature.” But in practice it often becomes the vehicle for our turmoil and dissatisfaction. Depending on your personality, there can be an endless supply of that, so it's a handy resource. But maybe not so readable at times.

All the inward reflection is ok to a point. But have you ever been fed up pulling your innards out, metaphorically speaking? All that fiery self-examination can become little more than a bland exhibit. Have you ever literally torn up past work in favour of a fresh direction? What about some outright fiction, perhaps woven around some personal observations spiced up with a few pointed elaborations? I've tried quite a bit of that over the last 8 years or so. Working this way can expand creativity. It's been a refreshing approach.

Click HERE for a few poems written over the last decade.

Youth and hot blood are beautiful, so is peacefulness.
Youth had some islands in it, but age is indeed
An island and a peak; age has infirmities,
Not few, but youth is all one fever.

To look around and to love in his appearances,
Though a little calmly, the universal God's
Beauty is better I think than to lip eagerly
The mother's breast or another woman's .

Robinson Jeffers (From Age in Prospect)

1 To learn more about the disciplines invloved, read Advice to a Poet by Maurice Harmon

2 Quote from my post in a lacklustre cookie-riddled forum. If it's a proper poetry forum you're after, try HERE

3 In the 1970s Kirkup wrote a now infamous poem that may be considered an astonishing and witless aberration.

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