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Bedroom 1

Poetry

I suspect that I have always been most attracted to poetry that is closer to music. I like rhythm, sonority and declamation above conceptual argument, visual appeal and private self-reference … although, of course, if the poet manages all these simultaneously his name is probably Shakespeare. Over the years I have penned (or word processed) hundreds of poems. Scores of celebratory cards contain my doggerel that is sent to bemused friends and family. But most of my poems have been a working through of ideas and feelings that were never intended for public view.

There were some that escaped. I did enter a couple in poetry competitions and, to my surprise, won both. The first, The Last Time, won the school poetry prize and the preponderance of audio imagery was remarked upon (I was spending up to 6 hours a day practising the violin in those days). Moorland Ferns was written after one of the many walks my wife and I made in the countryside.

Please feel free to peruse the little books of poetry that I am leaving in this room.



Bedroom 1 Portugal Haiku Favourites Shoah The Colouring Set Anthems He Femaleform
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Strongly infuenced by my attempts to learn to play the Bach D minor Partita for solo violin, I wanted to reflect some of what actually performing the work felt like in poetic form. Some of the writing might stand on its own (so they also appear individually): but the whole work is entitled 'Partita'. The monumental task of bringing the final Chaconne into a similarly structured form was quite a task! Click here to read