Limp iambs limpingly limp to the rhyme - it gets verse and worse [UK]:
There's no bad writing on God's green earth, I was reminded earlier this week, like bad poetry. This is because I have been reading a lot of it, for professional reasons. I'm one of the judges of this year's Forward Prize for poetry. [...]
The thing is, there are certain really odd things people do in bad poetry that they wouldn't do in another form of writing. Parody becomes the only response:We walked on the sea-shore, no noise/ Save the waves/ In the shingle./ Coming,/ And going.Why is it only in poems that poets tell their interlocutor something the person already knows? "Dammit," one imagines the loved one of the above replying. "I know I bought you chips. Pull your head out of your backside, would you. You still owe me three quid."
I remember you bought me fish/ And chips.
Now, making this poem, in a dark room, I taste the/ Vinegar.
Then there are the weird archaisms, such as "save" instead of "except for", and "sea-strand". The portentous line-breaks. The bathetic final lines consisting of a single word. Lines that break, for Pete's sake, after the word "the" - suggesting that what comes next will be Very Important, an expectation invariably disappointed. The wretched business of always writing about writing poetry. And why are you writing in a dark room? Turn on the light, you bampot!
That's just the free verse. There's the formal stuff, too: lines stuffed with filler, limp iambs limping limply towards the rhyme. Ungainly inversions. Banjaxed aphorisms.
A constant reaching towards profundity - as if profundity were a necessary or even desirable quality of poetry. Jokes are a no-no. And, oy, but there's a lot of weather in bad poems. Some of them consist entirely of weather. You'd think that a brolly was at least as important a tool of the craft as a pen. [...]
No comment
» Post a Comment