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Why is a poet like a railway enthusiast?

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No reference in the blog at all to the thing I posted about the robin? Not your cup of tea. It's true, there's a preciousness about some poets, poetry and poetry occasions, that is plum awful. Alienating and sometimes cringeworthy. I get to hear a lot about it, though I don't haunt many such occasions, and the few I have been to have been small, regional and brill. But there is a breed of up themselves windbags, and ...gaaaa. Zepheniah is a magician, and bags of fun and I have come across poets, as yet nationally unsung, who are as great if not greater than some of the well-peddled greats. And as poor and largely overlooked as some of those were when they were alive.
 
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I'll put my hand up for that one! I have written probably over 1,000 pieces, of poetry. Most I probably wouldn't repeat ;)

Personally I prefer steam trains, now they have character and a heart.
They don't have to chug chug chug to pull at your heart,
but they can weave magic which will in effect,
capture you're heart.

Nup, not in a poetry mood sorry, too much editing of the novels, and it's not that easy, or desirable to switch from one to the other, or you loose focus. It's not quite like looking through the looking glass, but I am wearing glasses. Enough of my ramblings!

Oh my dear steam engine, ye look so grand.
I couldnae care about the smoke,
the smell takes me places.
Did I mention my childhood,
when steam was so grand.
I am not that old,
and the memories are strong.
Don't let them tell you that poetry is a lost art.
You just keep steaming,
and I'll have the last laugh.
:D
 
Thanks Alistair! I still remember the smell of a winter morning with everyone's coal furnace belching out soot and smoke. I remember grandpa yelling at the "clinkers" in the cinder pan that meant he had to remove them! Stateside, in Scranton, PA (nearby) we have Steamtown, where a full roundhouse and yard has been maintained along with a bunch of locos including a 4-8-8-4 BigBoy articulated that still steams up. I also... shh. Don't share this with everyone: run 'em in N-scale... did I give that away? Oh nooooooo.
 
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One of my great grandads was a railwayman, Darlington. Talk about keeping secrets from your spouse...we used to know someone who had a passion for engines. After he died, his wife got a surprise....discovering she had inherited a train. He had bought a disused engine and had it on a siding for years and never said a word.
 
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I suspect a poet could compare poets to steam, a train (either gravy or of thought), or even a headless chicken if required; but that's poetry for you. In prose, trickier.
 
When several of our long-haul freight lines merged back in the 1960s, and electronic switching protocols were initiated, the crew complement of a given train was reduced in count. The powers that be then decided to eliminate cabooses entirely. In the early 1970s' they were available, as were box cars, for a song and could be seen parked permanently on abandoned sidings in small towns along those former roads' lines. They made great shelter and many became special additions to restaurants, etc. If I owned a boxcar, for example, I'd fill it with model trains and run trackwork all up and down the walls!
 
That would have been the UK equivalent, I guess, Richard. This man, Roy, bought a steam engine....but I don't know what he kept inside it.:eek:
 
Brian: I am going to confess a sin.
I originally came to the UK as a performance poet.

I had never been to any performance poetry events before but I soon learned: they are seldom a good night out.
Sadly (for the audience) most poets just want the attention but don't have the chops to be stand-up comedians or spoken word performers-- yeah, I said it!
And if they can't hold a reader's attention on paper, they often hope you'll just kind of 'get' them like abstract artists.

There's a dude out there-- he knows who he his!-- who used to close his eyes, take a deep breath for poignancy, then sweep his hand out, shouting: "Darkness! In the womb." Now THAT was comedy gold.

But I think to focus on the form misses the point: if it's entertaining, like the witty Irishman you mention, it doesn't matter what genre it falls under.
Reason I'm defensive is because my comedy/spoken word happened to rhyme, which made it the 'p' word, to my eternal shame.
But poetry was the hook that eventually brought publishers to my novel, which bigged up my shows and eventually caught the attention of my future wife which made all those nights of writhing politely worth it!
I actually did a few shows with McGough who was IMHO just okay but the best poem ever? John Cooper Clark's haiku:

Writing a poem
With seventeen syllables
Is very diffic--
 
Want to see a vid, Mr Octopus, of you in poetic action.

That dude needed a slap, the pretentious git. Anyway, sunlight can brighten it up in there, if the mother is sunbathing with not much on.

Poetry SLAM is a good night out, well, it's regional but the NW one is a bit of a riot, I hear http://www.poetryslam.org.uk/
 
So would I...
All my performances are on DVC's or VHS, which I keep telling myself I'm going to post on the website I've yet to build as soon as I have enough time and money to do it properly but in the meantime let's definitely buy another round of the domain name because *this* is going to be the year...
My book was about 20% poetry (which, fairly enough, the Times called "dubious"-- not that I'm holding any grudges) but they were basically transcriptions of performance pieces which all had gestures, intonations, PROPS. I've given them a proper scrub for the audiobook which I hope puts them in better light.
But tell anyone outside this forum I'm a poet and I'll cut you.
Smiley face!
 
Oh, shut up, you're a gentleman, but I promise. One will await the reveal in due course. I know some great poets who don't call themselves poets.

Don't rate Roger McGough.
 
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