Words Give Life Its Wings

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Tell me what you now remember
of what you said just last December
in one ear and out the other
can’t recall
cannot bother
it’s not uncommon
soon forgotten

But that’s now past
sorry I asked
for words will come
and words will go
they may not last
may lose their meaning
become unclean
become what they
weren’t meant to mean

Stay with the thought
you really ought
forever let them
ebb and flow
come to me
and let them go
for that they do
they wax and wane
they come again
often prone to outlive their stay
maybe then to fade away

Yes
hold that thought
and let it thrive
forever may it stay alive
it came to me in just a flash
even those pure balderdash
may be remembered
some dismembered
some misbegotten
others forgotten

But do not fear
lend me your ear
‘cos, right or wrong
words do live on
in speech and song
alive or lost
twisted and tossed
such living things
give life its wings

On Being Cantankerous

Testy now, and truculent,
Jumping to conclusions,
I tend to speak before I’ve thought,
A source of some confusions.

When I was young and in my prime
I would have paused and pondered
Before I’d let my mouth run free;
My mind would not have wandered.

Now, grumpy and cantankerous,
I’ve no wish to be told,
Despite the fact the signs are there,
That I am growing old.

For age and life have brought to me
Such exasperation
That now I speak my forthright mind,
Inviting much vexation.

Now I’m content to be quite brusque,
To stir up some dissent.
My time of life has brought disdain,
I’ll say just what I meant.

With one foot in the waiting grave
Why pussyfoot around?
Just tell it as it is, my friend,
No comebacks underground.

 

Vicissitude

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A word arose from out of nowhere
‘Vicissitude’ it said to me;
Wrenched from somewhere deep inside, 
It felt as though it had to be. 

Long, not easy to pronounce, 
Its meaning vague, irrelevant. 
Just a word, devoid of meaning, 
Neither neat nor elegant.

But full of promise, of expectation, 
Why it appeared I could not say;
Rolled off the tongue with but a murmur;
Perhaps a poem was on its way.

When I researched and felt its import,
Then it was I realised
That words jump out and take a hold;
They do not live to be despised.

They have a life that’s all their own;
They have an ache to be pronounced, 
To demonstrate their unique depth
To live, to love, to be announced.

‘Vicissitude’ is but one word
That truly lives when it is said.
There is a joy in every word –
Heard, used, spoken, or just read.

 

Carpe Diem

(No.53 of my favourite short poems) 

Not in fact a poem this week, but an inspirational  monologue on the significance of writing poetry and of the importance of  ‘carpe diem’  (translated from the Latin as ‘seize the day’), or the importance of making the most of the present time before it is too late.  The thesis is presented in the film ‘Dead Poets’ Society’ in a speech to his pupils by the charismatic English teacher, Mr Keating, who taught his pupils about life, not just about poetry and the English language.   Mr Keating was played in the film by Robin Williams.

From ‘Dead Poets Society’ … screenplay written by Tom Schulman

Mr. Keating:

“In my class, you will learn to think for yourselves again. You will learn to savor words and languages. No matter what anybody tells you, words and ideas can change the world.  I see that look in Mr Pitts’ eyes like 19th century literature has nothing to do with going to business school or medical school, right?  Maybe.  You may agree and think yes, we should study our Mr. Pritcher and learn our rhyme and meter and go quietly about the business of achieving other ambitions.  Well, I have a secret for you.  Huddle Up…Huddle UP!  We don’t read and write poetry because it’s cute.  We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race.  And the human race is filled with passion.  Medicine, law, business these are all noble pursuits necessary to sustain life.  But poetry, beauty, romance, and love; these are what we stay alive for.  To quote from Whitman “Oh me, Oh life! … of the question of these recurring;  of the endless trains of the faithless … of cities filled with the foolish;  what good amid these? Oh me, Oh life.”  “Answer…that you are here – that life exists, and identity; that the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. …  What will your verse be?” 

Watch “Robin Williams – What will your verse be? – excerpt from Dead Poets Society” on YouTube  . . .

Mr Keating’s speech from ‘Dead Poets’ Society’

Thomas H. Schulman ( 1950 – 2016) is an American screenwriter best known for his semi-autobiographical screenplay Dead Poets Society. The film won the Best Screenplay Academy Award in 1989, and was nominated for Best Picture and Best Director.  (From Wikipedia)

Robin McLaurin Williams (1951 – 2014) was an American stand-up comedian and actor. Starting as a stand-up comedian in San Francisco and Los Angeles in the mid-1970s, he is credited with leading San Francisco’s comedy renaissance.  (From Wikipedia)

 

‘KNOTS’ . . . R.D.Laing

Winter Archway, Hampton Court Palace Gardens, Surrey, UK

R.D.Laing (1927-1989) is perhaps best known for his book ‘The Divided Self: An Existential Study in Sanity and Madness’.  He was a Scottish psychiatrist who wrote extensively on mental illness – in particular, the experience of psychosis. He aimed to revolutionise the way we look at personality disorders.

In his books, ‘Knots’, ‘Do You (Really) Love Me?’, ‘Conversations With Children’, and others, he demonstrates, as expressed in his words below, the amalgam of ‘patterns’, speech forms, verbal exchanges, or ‘knots’ he has encountered during his professional work.

 

The patterns delineated here have not yet been classified by a Linnaeus of human bondage.
They are all, perhaps, strangely, familiar.
In these pages I have confined myself to laying out
only some of those I actually have seen. Words that
come to mind to name them are: knots, tangles,
fankles, impasses, disjunctions, whirligogs, binds.
I could have remained closer to the ‘raw’
data in which these patterns appear. I could
have distilled them further towards an abstract
logico-mathematical calculus. I hope they are not so
schematized that one may not refer back to the
very specific experiences from which they derive;
yet that they are sufficiently independent of ‘content’, for
one to divine the final formal elegance in these
webs of maya.                                    April 1969

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I give below just four short  examples of these ‘KNOTS’, the first of which
I have called ‘THE GATEWAY’

 

Although innumerable beings have been led to Nirvana
no being has been led to Nirvana
Before one goes through the gate
one may not be aware there is a gate
One may think there is a gate to go through
and look a long time for it
without finding it
One may find it and
it may not open
If it opens one may be through it
As one goes through it
one sees that the gate one went through
was the self that went through it
no one went through a gate
there was no gate to go through
no one ever found a gate
no one ever realized there was never a gate

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Question Mark

 

If I don’t know I don’t know

I think I know

If I don’t know I know

I think I don’t know

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They are playing a game. They are playing at not

playing a game.  If I show them I see they are, I

shall break the rules and they will punish me,

I must play their game, of not seeing I see the game

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JILL   You put me in the wrong

JACK   I am not putting you in the wrong

JILL   You put me in the wrong for thinking

you put me in the wrong

JACK   Forgive me

JILL   No

JACK   I'll never forgive you for not

forgiving me

 

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Four ‘binds’ from ‘Knots’ by R.D.Laing (pub. Penguin 1970)

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The photographs are my own.

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