Images and Poetry

Does the word “poetry” conjure up hours spent trying to learn by rote verse after verse of poems? Or perhaps it was trying to answer those unwieldy poetry questions for state examinations? Or perhaps just trying to understand what a poem was all about?

I would have been able to answer yes to all those questions except for a chance question while travelling on a DART back in 1990. As usual I was engrossed in a book in a near empty carriage, when I was approached and asked if I would consider reading a poem. The poem was part of a CIE programme around the idea of poetry in motion which would be displayed on the DART. Some of these poems would also be narrated by commuters. I was asked to be one of those narrators.

It was from this random encounter that my interest in poetry was sparked. Those “Poems on the DART” were short pithy poems and most were very readable. Jonathan Williams had compiled a wide, varied collection of poems. If an ordinary commuter could be asked to read a poem then for me it meant that these poems could be for anyone.

In an article for www.writing.ie “Thoughts for Budding Poets” Liz Cowley says and I quote “…poetry shouldn’t be like medicine – hard to swallow but good for you”.    I totally agree.

Liz Cowley is one of my favourite poets. Her work is so accessible.   She can make the most mundane seem important.   That together with the laughter which mingles with the often-tough topics of everyday living is what makes reading her poetry so enjoyable.

Liz Cowley opens the article “Thoughts for Budding Poets” by suggesting that many people are poets but are afraid that that we would be embarrassed by our ramblings/ scribblings.  That those scribblings would not be good enough.  Perhaps she is correct and that there is a poet in all of us just waiting to get out.

Why Put Off Things

Why delay? Why put them off –

the things we could have done before?

Why is it that we hesitate

and what is it we’re waiting for?

Why don’t we do things sooner?

Why do we often hesitate

until the day it’s much later,

it’s suddenly become too late?

Taken from the book “And Guess Who He Was With” by Liz Cowley