My life has come to this.
In the loo, on a shiny stainless steel stand, sits a wicker-basket full of new magazines and old newspapers. There are the copies of the Decorating magazines with their glossy pictures and wonderfully clean and neat rooms. The BMJ stands testimony to the doctor in the house. The latest copy of Writing Magazine has been read cover to cover once already – it will be read again before the next issue arrives.
Then there are the magazines I want to write for. Copies of The New Yorker and Scientific American wait to be read, analysed, pored over.
Four purple pens in a little glass jar wait patiently to be used again. A lot of writing goes on here.
All that is ignored today as I sit there. I’m poring over a copy of the Poetry Writers’ Yearbook 2008
Having ignored it for a long time, I finally picked up the book last week. I’m only the second person to borrow it – as the stamp on the first page indicates, which saddens me a bit. Perhaps it is time poetry made a big comeback.
My blue book is filling up as I sit in the sanctum-sanctorum. I take down names of poets mentioned in the essays and the poems that inspired these writers. I note down poetry websites mentioned in passing and leave the long listings for saving on del.icio.us later.
I’ve been feeling a keen desire to write verse again. In the good old days, I wrote hundreds of ‘poems’; most, fortunately, not fit for publication. I want to do better this time. More than that, I just want to write some more poetry.
My life has come to this. Sitting in the loo, having writing always on the brain, forgetting to read (or write) just for pleasure. Perhaps writing verse again will change that. Writing without worry about ‘markets’ and ‘queries’ will be refreshing.
I’m rather looking forward to it all.
Do you write poetry?
