'The Bees' - Carol Ann Duffy

It's a strange thing, reading the poetry of others. You'd think, as others have, that being a poet I'd automatically enjoy reading the poems of others. However, to get inside the poem of another is not always an easy thing.* I love writing poems because they allow a vent for my soul's musings, joy and struggles with the world. They connect me in an acute way with my inner feelings. Re-reading poems that I've written in the past can evoke as intense emotions as on their first writing due to their ability to transport me back to that exact period in time and season on my path. However, at times, the poems of another can remain locked to their meaning even after analysing every word and nuance. Nevertheless, I've been excited to discover the work of Carol Ann Duffy in her book 'The Bees'.** I received the book as a birthday present this year and have waited for a quiet moment to digest its contents. After the first three poems I'm hooked! What eloquent use of language to convey a scene, pull you into it's emotions and to initiate a knowing nod of the head. My favourites so far are: 'Last Post' and 'Echo'. Only three in, I'm in anticipation of more favourites as I continue to read. Such poetry joy!

* I've obviously felt a bit lighter on this subject in previous posts. I've most likely been frustrated at the reading of a few lesser accessible poems in between then and now. Repeating what I said in that post, I'd encourage anyone who finds poetry inaccessible to read to have a go at writing their own - however short or simple. This, I find, is the best way to appreciate the poems of others. Or, at least, to start the journey into appreciation.

** I'm also pleased to have a positive angle on Carol Ann Duffy's work after having previously discovered less favourable reviews.

Michelangelo - The Poet

I didn't always enjoy learning about history at school. However, I do love art, and when I learn about history through art, making connections between historical figures or events through art or poetry, it fascinates me. Having read some of Michelangelo's poetry in his book "The Complete Poems of Michelangelo", and also being a great fan of Michelangelo's artistic portrayals of the human body, as well as the detailed attention to fabric by Leonardo da Vinci, I was intrigued to find a book entitled "The Lost Battles" by Jonathan Jones, whilst browsing through the National Gallery shop on a recent trip through London. It details the bitter feuds between the two artists during Renaissance Italy. Interestingly it describes how Raphael, a rival painter to Michelangelo, painted Michaelangelo amongst the characters found in the wall painting entitled: "The School of Athens":

"Raphael wittingly included Michelangelo in his mural, brooding massively, leaning his head on his hand whilst he scribbled poetry on a sheet placed on the stone block beside him. His face is downcast in introspection beneath his unkempt black hair."

And here is the painting. A glimpse into the life of the poet at work! See if you can spot Michelangelo in the painting.

The Shack, William P. Young

This entry isn't about my poetry and my love of communicating what I see or feel with words, but having found words from another source that planted mental pictures filled with emotion, beauty and power into my mind, I wanted to share my appreciation for "The Shack"...

http://www.theshackbook.com/

Rarely do I read a book that touches my heart and gives me clarity about life (the Bible aside) and acknowledgement of things I've been through (there is something in it for everyone). Rarely do I read a book which allows me to look back and understand why... Rarely do I read a book that answers such big questions (some I need to re-read!). Rarely do I find a book that I cannot put down because I loose myself in the world that it invites me to step into (the last one was The Life of Pi, Yann Martel). Rarely do I get the time to read books, to be fair, (I can't usually sit still long enough...) but it is books of this quality that renew my motivation to pick up another one. Rarely do I read a book that makes me cry (my carpet is a sodden tissue graveyard). Rarely do I read a book that describes scenes of such beauty (I won't spoil which ones...).

Whilst I am not for or against the theology behind the book, (I am still digesting its contents), I do recommend it as well worth reading.

Now the divisive question is: is this book purely fiction or another of the multitude of ways with which God can communicate with us?