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Problem with Poetry

I don’t know if I’ve ever mentioned this, but I have a problem with poetry. Poetic talk is full of hyperbole, and it tends to get in the way. You take a perfectly ordinary line, such as Was there ever a time, when I didn’t know you? Nothing particularly wrong there the poet is merely suggesting that all time before meeting this person is irrelevant. However, if I try saying that, a little imp pops up and says “Well fuck-cakes, do you remember her at your fifth birthday? No? Were you disappointed she wasn’t there? No? Holy fucking shit! We have an answer. Yes, there was a time you didn’t know her… ya stupid twat dropping.”

I tend to hear that little imp when I’m trying to read poetry as well, because I figure everyone else must have these voices in their heads from time to time. I doubt everyone else has the constant din I do, and probably less profanity, but I still suspect. As a result, when I do try to read poetry (which isn’t very often these days) I hear the sighing, restless, irritated voice of this imp. Then the swearing starts, and once it gets going, it rarely stops.

And I’m not talking about love poetry, which is almost always embarrassing and stupid. First World War poets, Greek Classics, Fourteenth Century Monks, Even the works of people like Poe… they all get hit with the same “You gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me.” stick. It could be that I just don’t like poetry much.

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January 31, 2011 - Posted by | Uncategorized

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