Poetry, Slammed
Today in Ask an Internet Patrolman, Nobel Prize-winning writer and Professor of Poetry at the University of Essex, Derek Walcott writes, “Dear Constable Dooley: I’ve lived a good life. An unlikely one for a lad from Saint Lucia. I've tasted success and am doing my best to share what I've learned to the students who hope to follow in my footsteps. But therein lies my reason for writing. Tell me, how responsible is it for me to encourage young writers to follow their muse, knowing how dim and dire their prospects upon graduation? Or is poetry essential to the human condition and am I obligated to pursue its instruction? Phonetically yours, Derek Walcott” Brilliant to hear from you, Derek from Saint Lucia. (Is that a Catholic school or something? Haha.) Here’s the thing about poetry, Master D: When the Oxford University tweed jacketeers deemed that “rhyming” was bad — putting a stop to the simple joys of “There Once Was a Man from Nantucket” and the like — they killed the Aflac® goose that laid the Fabergé® egg. Poems today may look like poems — with the fancy line breaks — but there’s no cheerful bounce, no pitter to the patter. Look at your own titles, chum: “Poems”, “Selected Poems”, “Collected Poems”. Boring, snoring! You’ve even written a bloody book-long poem — “Omerus” or “Odorous” — as an homage to Homer? Homages are out, sir, and a book-long poem is like a movie with subtitles...there's no bloody audience for it! My favorite poem of all time addresses these difficult realities in a way that every poet should heed. “Trees”, by Dr. Joyce Kilmer (pictured above) opens thusly: “I think that I shall never see, a ponderous, non-rhyming poem lovely as a tree”. Imagine that! An acclaimed poet/telly psychologist revealing to the world that she’s never seen a poem as lovely as a sapling! As to your students, have they not seen “Dead Poet’s Society”? ‘Tis not healthy for young impressionables to celebrate the work of poets, living or dead! Look what happened to the one lad — not a lonely wanker, but a popular bloke with a full head of hair and straight teeth — he sadly killed himself! And then, years later, the revered day-seizer at the head of the class suffered a similar fate. For the love of bad meter! If I you were you, I'd point young wordsmiths in the direction of the advert business, for it can always use jingleers to deliver the cheerful bounce I spoke of earlier. Have them buy the fancy eye frames and fame and fortune will greet them ‘round the bend. Especially if one rises to the exalted title of Creative Director! Yours Truly, Internet Patrolman Dooley®.
