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From the mouths of babes
1/.
in the High Court the defendant
argued that no plagiarism had taken place indeed stated loudly that he had not stolen any of the poems, he had found them:
Poetry is three mismatched shoes at the entrance of a dark alley; is a sofa full of blind singers who have
put aside their canes, it is speech in which the words come in an order which could not be changed without ruining
the verity and power of the whole;
poetry's a zoo in which you keep demons and angels, deep gossip, it
is a dame with a huge pedigree, philosophy's sister ( the one who wears the make-up). It is a kind of leaving notes
for someone else to find, and a willingness for them to fall into the wrong hands.
Poetry is the rapture of
rhythmical language, it is what makes the invisible appear, it is a way of talking about things that frighten you; poetry is a machine for remembering itself, it is a way of communi- cating a vast array of thoughts and feelings, it
is a trick, and a
poem is an attempt to find the music in the words describing an intuition, a poem is a smuggling
of something back from the otherworld, a prime bit of shoplifting, a ghost seeking substantiality. A poem has to
be the most powerful thing one can say in the shortest space
possible.
2/.
informed
their worships that if a crime had indeed been committed he eagerly awaited the court's sentence as it would finally reveal
to him poetry's true value:
As with any other product there is no innate justice in the marketing and consumption of poetry. Just as the richest people are the most prone to regard capitalism as even-handed competition,
so the most successful poets are the likeliest to assume the business is a pure meritocracy;
a poetry bestseller
is any book that sells four or five copies in any store, poets are the Big Issue sellers of the literary world, some
are silent and desperate, others are mad and messianic, you know you ought to buy their wares but suspect you wont
enjoy them.....
Poets and money are seen in each other's company only rarely, they can do without money
and that's a good thing, they have more aesthetic freedom precisely because nobody cares how or what they write; poems are chits that get you off work. To devote a life
to poetry looks to most people like a decision to ignore
the benefits of modern living, it looks a lot like sulking. The impulse to write poetry is the enemy because it's
trying to keep you poor. The hope of permanent fame may be the second silliest motive for a career in poetry, the first
is, of course,
the hope for untold riches.
3/.
harangued in the stocks
the poet publicly apologised to the poets from whom the poetry had been pilfered:
A special gift isn't
bestowed on us by God Almighty but by another god called Hard Work. I was my own creator. All people talk to themselves, some are overheard and they are the poets. To be a published poet is not a sane person's aspiration, any fool can
write poetry but it takes
a genius to get it published; if you are writing poetry only to get published you
belong in some other kind of writing. And, what's more, if a so-called artistic work is done without the artist committing
his whole personality the effect is dubious; poetry should be old as time, poets used
to be mad or bad now
they are mostly just sad. There are jealousies rolling about - not much chinking of money - but plenty of grinding of
teeth. Indeed, the one thing that can get a poet irritated and upset is the thought of another poet's poems.
Heavyweight boxing is a tame gentle spectacle compared with
the contests of literary men, it is surprising how
much grousing and grieving goes on in the name of poetry. It is tribal. The sense of ferrets fighting for mastery
of the sceptic tank is depressing, the tension sibling, Oedipal. There is nothing like a punch in the mouth to remind
you that your poem wasn't as
clever as you thought.
NB: This poem was found hiding
in the pages of The Bloodaxe Book Of Poetry Quotations edited by Dennis O'Driscoll.
Copyright
© Pete Marshall, 2009
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