On Poetry

Glyn Maxwell

• Publisher: Oberon Books
• Year: 2012
• Print ISBN: 9781849430852
• eBook ISBN: 9781849435314
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Literature
• Subtopic: Creative Writing
• Index: Literature

'The most compelling, original, charismatic and poetic guide to poetry that I can remember. A handbook written from the heart by one of the true modern masters of the craft.' Simon Armitage A collection of short essays and reflections on poetry from the acclaimed British poet Glyn Maxwell. These essays illustrate Maxwell's poetic philosophy, that the greatest verse arises from a harmony of mind and body, and that poetic forms originate in human necessities – breath, heartbeat, footstep, posture. He speaks of his inspirations, his models, and takes us inside the strange world of the Creative Writing Class, where four young hopefuls grapple with love, sex, cheap wine and hard work. With examples from canonical poets, this is a beautiful, accessible guide to the most ancient and sublime of the realms of literature.

Time

There was a ship – we don’t have time for this!

cries Stowey to two mates, the one who gasps

and seconds that – No dice! – and the one who stays,

who didn’t have time either,

but stayed,

dwindled as they left him on the footpath

with the ragged clutching soul. Catch us up eh!

Ned yells in earshot – neither figure turned

so the two pass on delighted

to a garden.

Under the threaded arch they move in bliss,

Bill Porlock and Ned Stowey, to the feast

set out so early in the noonday sun

with all of you, how ever

should time

dare to pass? O over the lawns they stroll

to everything they wished. They don’t say so

but they think they’ll find love here today, does Bill,

does Ned, and soon they do

say so.

*

Angela Fackenham-Tray

Is getting married today

In fact has been married an hour,

Is posing in a traditional bower

Beheld by family, bestest friends

All peek-a-boo behind a lens

But, when not freezing for a snap,

Our bride is glowering at this chap

Who just an hour ago she vowed

To have and hold for keeps, out loud.

She made her pledge, he made his oath.

(Thank Christ she thought to write them both.)

Me happy, yay, my day, all sweet,

We’re wed, new pals, eat what we eat!

Patter? Small feet? Faraway!

Be self, express, be free, wahay!

Angela Fackenham-Tray

Got married again today

In fact was married two hours and a quarter

When heard to hiss Bloody drink some water.

*

If the beautiful seating plan had eyes, it would see

Bill Porlock taking his glasses off to see

if chance has placed him next to his old friend Ned

and no one else because apart from his school-friend Ned –

and his other school-friend who for some strange reason stopped

to hear that sea-dog fellow, the one who stopped

and pestered them – apart from those two shipmates

Bill doesn’t know a soul. ‘Result! Two shipmates

together! Table 40! Solid!’ But Ned’s

not listening, Ned’s

gazing off at this tall girl in a dress

of green, what a day, O girl who chose a green dress,

who frowned in her flowery things in the face of her wardrobe,

reached with a sigh deep into her Narnia wardrobe,

selected a lipstick before Ned saw her,

rode in a car before Ned saw her,

lived half her life!

well, half her young life,

now shields her eyes, and he’s saying to no one at all

‘I hope that honey in green’s on our table...’ it’s all

he hopes. And Bill Porlock, listening, having nobody

else to listen to, wiping his glasses, nobody

else’s name to locate on the crayoned plan

says ‘Tell me her name and I’ll check on this crayoned Plan,

shipmate.’ And Ned says reasonably ‘I don’t know

her sodding name, do I. All I know...’

Bill Porlock waits and wonders what it is,

but it’s nothing. Bill squints at the Plan and says ‘If her name is

Lucy Gray, Eldrida Half-Dane,

that’s a funny old name that, Half-Dane,

Group-Captain Henry Jones –

Group-Captain Henry Jones

is unlikely to be her name – if it’s Bella Croft

then yes, she’s on our table, BELLA CROFT,’

Bill suddenly says too loud like an utter moron

and the tall girl looks and Ned says ‘Bill you tosser.’

*

‘And, ninthly,’ said the gentleman to Orlando,

as they started on their starters, and already

soup was adventuring down the weathered jawbone,

‘how can one learn to write, is that a thing

one can be taught?’ Ollie began to say ‘I – ’

‘Well I should have thought,’ said the elderly man with the elbow

at his other flank, ‘I should have thought that if one,

were to be termed, for the sake of argument, a “creative”

“writer”, one ought really to have invented

an entirely, new, colour!’ Both those fellows

rocked a...

Table of contents

• Front Cover
• Half-title Page
• Title Page
• Copyright
• Dedication
• Contents
• White
• Black
• Form
• Pulse
• Chime
• Space
• Time