Defo Not Poetry
Poems remind me of personalised number plates on cars. Some, you have to look at more than once to find their meaning.
Others, they’re like glass; what you see on the other side is clear and simple. On occasion, it’s the reflection that seduces.
Personally, I only imagine writing in three forms of poetry. The first is the Knife. It has to get to the point, stay on point, and then has to make a point!
The second is the Wave. A poem that immerses the reader and carries them away. It is intended to touch something personal, or emotional, with either a positive or negative response. It’s how the reader feels.
Finally, the Scribble. A piece of writing that just comes out and finds it’s way onto paper in words. I don’t know where it comes from, where it’s going, or where it’s been? But once it’s arrived, you can take or leave it.
Poems are a bit like wine. What flows from the bottle won’t be to everyone’s taste. It can be sweet, complex, and laced with aromatic fruits. Or just a glass of piss that leaves a bad taste in your mouth.
I leave it to you to decide . . .
Spring & Autumn
An unorthodox way of expressing myself. More mature, and less impetuous. Compositions sprinkled with the wisdom of age; some served with a light dressing of muse, others left to marinate overnight in my cynicism.
That’s all I have to say . . .
Anthology 1 & 2
A compilation of writings that I’ve reluctantly allowed to see the light of day. The writing is raw and innocent, but these two books began my literary journey. Scrawled in two ledgers when I was young; in a volatile and unstable period of my life. They were then lost and forgotten.
But that’s the strange thing about life. How easily it can be influenced or redirected. Many years later, like some strange codex, I found them hiding in a dusty box. Sometimes I wish they’d stayed there. But without them there would be no AuthorsArk 🙂
I’ve done my best to clean them up (without ruining their naive appeal). I felt the work deserved an audience (that’s you), for better or for worse.
You don’t have to understand the words to get the meaning in Brooker’s poems. He says what he means, & means what he says, lol
Enjoyed the read even if I didn’t always get the meaning.
Poetry I understand… poetry I understand… 🙂 🙂
Defo makes a point lol
Poetry is the disposition of words that incites its reader with meaning. I’ll doubtless enjoy reading the Seasons again and again.
Expressive, intuitive, and meaningful. What’s not to like?