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A Week is a long time in poetics

July 29, 2016

[Sorry for the long break.  A ‘sporting injury’ dontchaknow. Nearly ready to resume properly – not as nearly as some would like! Mending, encouraged by my appearance at Left Fest in Southampton (thanks to  Unite Community) and the prospect of more tonight at Victor Hugo’s Boulangerie (https://www.facebook.com/events/273816409664787/) and perhaps, if there’s time,  Moving Voices at the Art House, I may return to delivering “An Interesting read…) almost every Friday!

So, the long dry spell ends with this poem:

 

Under the Influence

This befuddled fog I seem to carry about me

Is something which people politely ignore

Bar the odd jibe or more sympathetic remark –

Bless them, they have their own worlds to conduct themselves in

With rarely time enough to pick an argument.

A relief to be let off; sad to be left in the shade

Though one has to ask oneself,

This miasma, this stultifying gloom I stumble around in,

This studied calm while watching the rising waves,

This attempt to freshly restate the bleeding obvious,

This half hearted effort to offer a safe space,

In which we may moan and complain together,

Is it, could it ever be any earthly use?

In the cruelly limited time left over

After attending to the tiresome necessities

Perceived as essential to one’s personal survival

And all the posing involved

In reassuring the unobservant

In this materialistic, over consuming, deeply concerning society

You have to let everyone in

Because in times like these we all need to help each other

Even those who seem determined not to help you

Even when tolerating their grossest stupidities is all you can do

Even though the very way they care is terribly bad or just plain wrong for you

Even those whose views you want to oppose

Remember, they’ll know what you know just as well as you’ll know what they know.

Those late night conversations

May lead to unexpected revelations

Or only to the start of another day

But each new day will start, and we must find our way.

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From → Poet, Uncategorized

One Comment
  1. This befuddled fog I seem to carry about me….like 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

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