I simultaneously admire and fear poetry. I admire it because the use of language is often superb. Poets unfold truths and smooth out all the parts so you can see.
I fear poetry because sometimes I read a poem others have described as deeply meaningful and am embarrassed that I haven’t understood. I feel like a thickwit!
But then, every so often, I find a few lines that fall into step with me as I walk along. Or someone kindly bypasses my thickwittedness by explaining what is meant.
Having recently suffered a significant birthday, I’ve been feeling old. But (as Dylan Thomas advises) I will not go gently into that good night, I will rage, rage against the dying of the light. The poem is about making the most of life, living it to its fullest, defying death. I’ll raise a glass to that.
And then, sometimes, we just aren’t understood by those around us. And Stevie Smith’s line: “I was always much further out than you thought, and not waving but drowning” shows we aren’t alone.
At other times we look down life’s long years and wonder what might have been. I think of Robert Frost writing: “Two roads diverged in a wood, and I – I took the one less travelled by”. It was up to us which fork to take, and yet there is no route back.
The point I’m trying to make (in my unpoetic way) is that emotions, ideas, concepts, the big nebulous and confusing “thing” that is existence can be expressed in words. Creative people put powerful words into poignant poems and capture truths.
Dylan Thomas challenged: “Old age should burn and rave at close of day” well over 80 years ago, in a world nothing like our own. But his sentiments are still entirely pertinent to today. It is a timeless and piercing use of language.
And that’s one of the reasons words are so important. Sometimes, you need words. Nothing else will do but words. There is no cure but words.
We need to be taught to use words well. Words lead us out of the dark. Words tell us why.
Preserving language, studying it, revering it, defending it, is important.
I can say, without fear of contradiction, no one in 80 years’ time will look back and say: “Oh, what a beautiful use of emoticons and acronyms they had in their WhatsApp groups. Aren’t those LOLs, and smiley faces afire with meaning?”
We need words. Real words. We’ll need them til a the seas gang dry.
Word of the week
Pome (noun)
Type of fruit with a skin and, usually, five to seven seeds. Examples would be a pear, apple, or quince. EG: “Does anyone know a poem about a pome?”
Read the latest Oh my word! every Saturday in The Courier. Contact me at sfinan@dctmedia.co.uk
