New Poem by Sam Buchan-Watts

Worship Services

If I draw out London like a cross

the Old Kent Road would stretch

the length of Christ’s sick body.

Catching the 453

like a potential virus,

I’m a slow shot up his spine.

But the bus stops

with deliberate ache of reason.

The perpetrator has called it

and drags my eyes to an ungodly paradox

-church shop and ASDA side by side-

where He stands (dispersed in glossy paperbacks)

author of all; beaten by showcards.

Through this valediction of faith

thanks be to yellowed window, I witness

the plastic gore of 4-way adaptors.

Next door: Grisham tops some trial,

life as I want to see it, loud and taut.

Warm green colour schemes

balance Mum with Dad,

my potential kids well fed,

not realising, that they themselves

are a kind of food.

I think of my mother, ten

years back. Weekend day mistook-

she got the wrong kind of mass-

Attending Tescos for my

weekly refill, of re-healing.

poem by Sam Buchan-Watts. He recently graduated from Goldsmiths College and co-runs Clinic Presents which publishes a biannual anthology of the best new contemporary poetry art and photography, and through which are put on gigs and exhibitions of the best new poets/bands/artists in anything from an abandoned strip-club in Mayfair to a private school in Berkshire.

Comments

IQ AND THE POETS - ARE YOU SMART?

When you open your mouth to speak, are you smart? A funny question from a great song, but also, a good one, when it comes to poets, and poetry. We tend to have a very ambiguous view of intelligence in poetry, one that I'd say is dysfunctional. Basically, it goes like this: once you are safely dead, it no longer matters how smart you were. For instance, Auden was smarter than Yeats , but most would still say Yeats is the finer poet; Eliot is clearly highly intelligent, but how much of Larkin 's work required a high IQ? Meanwhile, poets while alive tend to be celebrated if they are deemed intelligent: Anne Carson, Geoffrey Hill , and Jorie Graham , are all, clearly, very intelligent people, aside from their work as poets. But who reads Marianne Moore now, or Robert Lowell , smart poets? Or, Pound ? How smart could Pound be with his madcap views? Less intelligent poets are often more popular. John Betjeman was not a very smart poet, per se. What do I mean by smart?

"I have crossed oceans of time to find you..."

In terms of great films about, and of, love, we have Vertigo, In The Mood for Love , and Casablanca , Doctor Zhivago , An Officer and a Gentleman , at the apex; as well as odder, more troubling versions, such as Sophie's Choice and Silence of the Lambs . I think my favourite remains Bram Stoker's Dracula , with the great immortal line "I have crossed oceans of time to find you...".

THE SWIFT REPORT 2023

I am writing this post without much enthusiasm, but with a sense of duty. This blog will be 20 years old soon, and though I rarely post here anymore, I owe it some attention. Of course in 2023, "Swift" now means one thing only, Taylor Swift, the billionaire musician. Gone are the days when I was asked if I was related to Jonathan Swift. The pre-eminent cultural Swift is now alive and TIME PERSON OF THE YEAR. There is no point in belabouring the obvious with delay: 2023 was a low-point in the low annals of human history - war, invasion, murder, in too many nations. Hate, division, the collapse of what truth is, exacerbated by advances in AI that may or may not prove apocalyptic, while global warming still seems to threaten the near-future safety of humanity. It's been deeply depressing. The world lost some wonderful poets, actors, musicians, and writers this year, as it often does. Two people I knew and admired greatly, Ian Ferrier and Kevin Higgins, poets and organise

E Y E W E A R, THE BLOG - FREEDOM MEANS BEING UNAFRAID TO WRITE WHAT YOU THINK

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