Can’t say I am uneasy with it as it stands
but modern verse barely lifts itself from out
the cradle, grandstanding while it vaguely
makes a play of novice virtues, holds the
same ladle, parochially stirs in ancient ways.
Obscured cachets evoke weird imagery in
fractured scenes of randomness, anger or
frustration seethes endlessly within.
Why would I want to read the dark beliefs
of a heavy metal worshipper impeached with
visibly suicidal street credibility? Because I can –
with no desire to see into the mind of a word-
mangling innocent terminally afflicted with non-
contemplative grief or pure redeeming twang.
© 24 December 2007, I. D. Carswell
One of my new year's resolutions (in my case, revolutions, perhaps), is to do my best to see the other side of things. Can't say I'll succeed, or that I really even want to, deep down. Appreciation is a tricky, personal thing; but I'll try (for a while). But I'll be looking for that 'pure redeeming twang'. Thanks, Ivan...jim
ReplyDelete