Poetry bites

Housewarming 
(As it might have been written by Sylvia Plath)

It is noon & I am already wilting

the landscape cringes &

unhinges

while the second-hand in my wrist ticks on

but only faintly.

I need quiet,

I need space
but all there is, is waiting
& more of falling apart
at the seams

Somewhere else, the real belltower rings.

If this goes on, I might

crack

like an egg

& slide across

the bottom

of a porcelain bowl.

____________________________________________________




Currently finishing up two poetry collections that I purchased earlier this year, the first being Wendy Cope's Two Cures for Love & the second being a Sylvia Plath anthology. I have always been crazy over Wendy Cope's work, which is always filled with witty social commentary & counter-balanced with bare-faced honesty about the lesser-known (or less-talked about), embarrassing experiences in life. Her poems, above all, are a celebration of simplicity & uninterrupted streams of emotion, which I like very much. My two favourite pieces from this particular collection were written in two famous poets' 'voice' & style. Here are the excerpts:





A Nursery Rhyme 
(As it might have been written by William Wordsworth)

The skylark & the jay sang loud & long
The sun was calm & bright, the air was sweet,
When all at once I heard above the throng
Of jocund birds a single plantitive bleat.'


&



A Nursery Rhyme 
(As it might have been written by T.S. Eliot)

Because time will not run backwards
Because time
Because time will not run
(Hickory Dickory)




When I say that the poem is written 'in Sylvia Plath's voice', I don't mean to completely copy & paste her style over into my poems because that would just be plain disrespectful. It's just that sometimes, when you have been reading the work of a particular poet over a long period of time like I have, their style automatically becomes familiar to you & sticks, & certain emotions you feel somehow translate themselves into lines that reflect the poet's language & voice greatly. & this isn't disrespectful, or plagiarism in the least, but quite a beautiful thing: a young novice writer paying homage to one of the literary greats by almost becoming one with him/her. I love that idea, that nothing is original, but everything can be authentic.

Well I definitely need to start writing again... & updating this space on everything that's been happening. More to come!