There is a truth in writing and when I am searching for it myself
And can’t find it
I look to other writers that speak it well
Writers like Bukoswki
Yes
He is an angry man who speaks badly and crudely and rudely
At times
Yet when I feel angry
And I read a bite of his poetry
I feel anger explained
And can move through it
There is an element of truth so fundamental in his work
I am reminded
Truth doesn’t care what other people think
Truth isn’t always kind or nice or pretty
Truth doesn’t care to explain itself
It is there simply
And bluntly
Like the bald spot on the back of an otherwise youthful mans head
He may try to cover it once he finds it
A hat
A toupee
Yet beforehand
It is there
And he is better off for not knowing
More handsome
Simply being
Truth is like that
And to me poetry is truth
Tactless
Subconscious
Raw
So
Poetry is best left as it is
Unvarnished and real
It is uncovered
Not prettied up
Most of the poetry I write falls
like an empty can out of a car door
I don’t try and make it sound better
Or rhyme nicely
That is not the point
Nor the poetry
I did think at some stage that if I spent a bit more time on the poems
Like several hours or days
They might sound better
But then I realised
They would just turn into toupees
And fake hair is never
Real
Nor worthy
Maybe for a book I might take one of these raw concepts
And put a prettier dress on it
But then poetry tends to lose its rawness
It’s edginess
It’s slap of reality
When you contrive
So then again
Maybe not
Thoughts?
*on another not dissimilar note – That note being truth – I have found an amazing talent (one good reason to read newspapers at times I guess) Kate Tempest – poet – listen to her beautiful poem “Peoples Faces” below.
