Epitaphs, by Anthological Poets, Reviewed.

As just one of the seventy-two poets featured in this remarkable volume, I clearly have to declare my interest. Amongst those bards you’ll find university professors, a prince, engineers, social workers, technicians, scientists, teachers and a good number of professional writers and poets. Many of the contributors have won awards for their writing and a most have published in many different forms. They hail from lands as diverse as India, Africa, USA, Canada and the UK. So, this international collection is far from being unrepresentative. I’m honoured to have been invited to contribute.

There are epitaphs here to make you smile, laugh, sigh and cry. The different styles range from the thoughtful to the exotic, the simple to the complex and profound. Suffice it to say that there is something here for everyone.

The fact of death is inescapable, of course. But here we have words to celebrate, express gratitude, proclaim greatness, explain lives unknown and sorrow for those who have left us behind. You may find solace, fellow-feeling, humour and respect amongst the different expressions of grief, loss and love.

Lovers of poetry will find much here to admire and enjoy. For those who are strangers to poetry, this is a gentle introduction to many different poets expressing human feelings in distinct ways. I recommend it unreservedly.

You can by the paperback by clicking this link.

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The Oxford Book of Contemporary Verse 1945 - 1980, edited by D J Enright, Reviewed.

Judgement of poetry is perhaps even more subjective than for prose. The poetic form either speaks to us or not, and our response to it is as much to do with our own views, history and experience as it is connected to the life of the poet. This collection includes many well known poets and some I’d not previously encountered. Naturally, it excludes others I’ve known and loved and some that who not so well known.

The work is arranged as individual groups of poems by each poet, ranked according to date of birth; as good a presentation as any other, given the variety of styles and content included. Of the forty poets presented here, only three are women, so it can hardly be considered a fair representation of the talent available during the period.

This anthology introduced me to some poets I will research further and others with whom I shan’t bother to develop any greater acquaintance.

What to say about a collection pulled together by another? There’s no unifying form or theme and the poets represent a wide period of writing. It seems to me that this is a time when rhyme began to diminish, free verse began to expand its influence, and form crawled into the back seat.

It is a book to be dipped into and sampled rather than read from cover to cover, but I suspect the same could be said of many poetry anthologies. I have mixed feelings about the selection; some moved me almost to tears, some bored me, a few were incomprehensible because my education failed to prepare me for their esoteric references, and a few more were simply too long for their subject matter.

But, for those who love the genre, those curious about the development of the form and those studying poetry as literature, this is a good book.

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The Poet and His Valentine, by Ananya Chatterjee, Reviewed.

Poetry, in any tongue, is a demanding art form for both creator and reader. The best poetry combines an exquisite appreciation for the subtlety of language with an ability to convey mood, emotion and content, and a gift for evocation.

In Ananya Chatterjee’s The Poet and His Valentine we have an Indian software professional and translator conveying all that the poet should. This is largely a collection of what might loosely be termed ‘love poetry’, but that’s by no means the whole tale. Ananya includes some darker, more disturbing subjects in this anthology. I found myself moved, amused, outraged and transported to other times and places as I read her work.

The prevailing mood is one of optimism, often against the tide of events. This is a brave and questing spirit, a voice many will empathise with easily. But the poems of love found, love lost, love sought are interspersed with pieces of observation on life, art, social injustice, and environment.

There’s inspiration to be found in these verses. Indeed, in her introduction, Ananya says, ‘If it succeeds in touching a few chords, and in inspiring more people to read and write poetry, I would know my purpose was served.’ I can say that, for this reader, that success is complete. I’ve long considered setting down my thoughts in verse, and have trodden that road with faltering steps. Ananya’s example has made it much more likely that I’ll continue on that journey.

This is an enjoyable, amusing and thought-provoking read. I recommend it to all who love, or wish to, and to all who have a taste for comprehensible language used to great effect.

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A Fine Piece of Poetry

Henry Lawson. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I belong to an online email lottery, which allows its members (currently 24,669) the opportunity to send an email to all the other members. Each member has the chance of being selected and just one email is sent per day. So far, I haven't been lucky. If you wish to join, by the way, you can do so easily, by following this link.

Of the messages I've received over the months I've belonged, some have been personal stories, some far too lengthy, some advice, some requests for help. The one below came through a couple of days ago, and I was so impressed with the short piece of poetry I asked the contributor if I could post it here on the blog. He agreed. It appears he has no blog or website, which seems a shame since he clearly has something worth hearing. Read the poem and see what you think.

"And my dreams are strange dreams, are day dreams, are grey dreams,
And my dreams are wild dreams, and old dreams and new;
They haunt me and daunt me with fears of the morrow –
My brothers they doubt me – but my dreams come true. "

  -from The Wander-Light
   Henry Lawson

Tomorrow is a human a thing.  For other minds there is only now.  But not for us.

We sleep and wake and live our lives by tides and shapes of nights and days and nights.

Tomorrow is our dance; the steps of our rhythms with legs astride.

Because it's pain that teaches best, we fear the morrow.  And so we should.

Yet tomorrow is the promise of a better thing.

I live now.  Fears of the morrow mine are now.  But my dreams too come true.

My dreams too come true.


Max Goff

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The Rattle Bag, Ed. by Seamus Heaney & Ted Hughes, Reviewed.

Poetry in anthology form is always subject to criticism by readers who feel aggrieved at the works excluded. Even at 475 pages, this work necessarily omits some well-known works and even some respected poets. But it gives a flavour of the genre as it’s developed over the centuries.

The editors arranged the verses alphabetically so that an air of randomness pervades the volume. There’s no attempt at thematic or topical arrangement. Surprise is the intention: the joy of stumbling on work new to the reader.

Much here is familiar, popular, or representative. But there are also extracts of less well-known pieces, examples of lesser poets, forgotten wordsmiths, and those whose words were originally expressed in foreign tongues.

Is it balanced? I’m no expert: I took up a book, which has been on my shelves since its issue in 1987, simply because I’ve recently become interested in expressing myself in poetry. This was an exercise in discovering what’s possible in the form, an enquiry into what works, and what doesn’t. And, under such scrutiny, it’s natural that my assessment will be deeply personal.

My conclusion? Poetry can be anything, from the formal rhymes of schemes devised to test the poet’s skill, to prose chopped arbitrarily into sections that look somehow appropriate on the printed page. It can voice attitude, wonder, despair, or any of the emotions known to man. And it’s noticeable that it is men who are most represented here; the women characterized by a token scattering of the famous.

I confess, there were works here that I hardly started; their opening lines so obscure or lacking personal connection that I declined to sample them further. There were others that I read more than once, their accessibility or emotional impact such that they made contact with the human experience of this reader.

For lovers of poetry, this volume is either a collection of works already known or a showcase of the craft. But for those seeking insight into a world new to them, those dipping the toe or testing the flavour, it’s an interesting adventure. If, like me, you’re curious about the making of a poem, the structure of a verse, the range of topic or theme applicable, then this will answer some of your questions, and I recommend it.

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