…a fresh year comes upon us
Featured Poem
So, a fresh year comes upon us. 2022 has been a pretty rotten year for most, cost of living, energy prices, interest rate rises, Putin’s evil attack on the Ukraine and so on. The present government has performed little better than a pretty poor circus, though this may be insulting to circuses. And the future does not look much better, does it? I have never been a great one for New Year resolutions; but I recently heard something that caused me to make something like one. It was research that indicated some of us take in far too much news, convincing ourselves it is important. And we get swamped by it, and it lowers our wellbeing. There may be something in this, so I have been trying to limit my news intake recently. I look to the New Year arrival with great trepidation; though I try to temper this with hope.
The featured poem, New Year’s Eve tries to capture this complex reaction to the coming of a new year; overtly pessimistic (perhaps cynical?) but the poet also questions his own attitude. Confusing? – Well, life is.
Perhaps you notice the reference to TS Eliot in the opening line; this is confirmed in the near quote of Eliot at the end. The two near quotes serve as book-ends to the poem, giving (I hope) a sense of completeness. They also help the poem by bringing Eliot’s feelings from his great work, into my humble offering.
Referencing other people’s work is fun and can enrich what we write, but we should do it with respect. Some will argue that such referencing of others is just showing off; it is not showing off it is using one of the powerful tools we have. A poem (or any other artwork) should not need a reference to be recognised for the work to be understood; the appreciation of a work is richer when such references are recognised.
Reading
I have completed my reading of Hilary Mantell’s great Cromwell trilogy. The works are like great tapestries created with small stitches. She achieves the magic of putting you into each scene alongside Cromwell and knowing what he is thinking at any given moment. They were scary times and few involved in the 16th Century politics were to be trusted; each person after personal power. Much like today I suppose.
Writing
I’ve written a few poems recently, some of which I am quite proud of – Invisible Birds, Cliff Edge, He Said: I Want to Dance on my own Bald Mountain.
Tom is finding one song in our Music Play tricky; it is tricky. It is a key song for the protagonist; he enters the song in a state of totally confusion and must find his way through it to leave the song with a new sense of direction. We are aiming, soon, to spend an hour or so on Zoom working through the difficulties.