No matter how much craft and how many drafts I devote to certain poems, they never seem to come alive. However, their trail remains in my notebook. When I move on to a new one, I trawl back through its predecessor and start on the first page with a list of those clumsy pieces, with the challenge of previous failures.
When flicking through the pages of the full notebook, I spot that those drawn-out efforts are interspersed with sudden new poems in unexpected bursts. And that penultimate word becomes key. The unexpected is where verse is born, where the subconscious springs a surprise and I realise it's been brewing a new poem for weeks or months, or a fresh tangent turns stale stanzas on their head and one of the old drafts springs to life at last.
Vital Signs draws on the inspiration of the medical vital signs in three
parts – ‘Body’, ‘Pulse’ and ‘Breath’ – each with nine poems that explore
romantic ...
Dear Matthew
ReplyDeleteThe best thing is when you discover poems that you had written drunk and completely forgotten about like:- 'Gareth Bale/ Plays for Wales/ And when he's in the mood/ He's exceptionally good!'
Best wishes from Simon R. Gladdish