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    Flickerings: A Collection of Poetry
    Flickerings: A Collection of Poetry
    Flickerings: A Collection of Poetry
    Ebook146 pages1 hour

    Flickerings: A Collection of Poetry

    By Alan J. Yates

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    About this ebook

    Flickerings is not just an unusual and multi-faceted collection of the author's poetry. While he uses the poetry form to tackle often disturbing themes, such as the search for the meaning of life, death among family and friends and even large social issues such as consumerism and the environment, he does so with delicacy, wry humour and, through, a love of the musicality of the 'language' of poetry. Nor is this anthology of his works by theme a mere collection of different thematic topics, poetic forms and structures, but it offers a discussion of the medium of poetry itself. Yates has an extensive background in the communications field and has written for print and broadcasting, as well as teaching Communications and writing. In an introduction to the collection, he attempts to define the medium of poetry, both as an art form and as a medium of communication. As he puts it, not every writer can write deathless and beautiful prose....."so, sometimes, especially in moments of personal indulgence, some of us write poetry instead. For, in poetry, there are no holds barred. Mystery is the staple of the medium and music is the staff on which it is most often written......there is hardly any point in resorting to the poetic form if the result just looks and sounds like a shipwrecked fragment from a novel. What the poem canand too rarely does is to convey a subject or experience more lyrically, perhaps less explicitly and, ideally, in a nutshell. The poem should also have the potential to produce resonances or recognitions in the reader about similar ideas or experiences....and, failing such recognition, the reader can at least enjoy the mystery and the music..." And he concludes, "...prose is most often concerned with the denotative and explicit, while poetry relies more on the connotative and implicit...delving into the inner dimension....the more private and mysterious one of the senses themselvesof the 'mindscape,' if you wish."
    This, the author illustrates with his anthology and, especially, with the poem "Flickerings," from which the book takes its title.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherTrafford Publishing
    Release dateMar 10, 2011
    ISBN9781426960710
    Flickerings: A Collection of Poetry
    Author

    Alan J. Yates

    Alan J. Yates spent almost forty years working for the mass media in Canada. An expert in broadcast journalism and program production, he earned two graduate degrees in mass communications from Montreal’s McGill University and taught at the University of Ottawa. Yates is now retired and lives in Ottawa, Canada.

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      Book preview

      Flickerings - Alan J. Yates

      Contents:

      Introduction

      On The Search

      for Meaning

      FLICKERINGS

      LIFE’S STREAMS OF CONSCIOUSNESS

      WORDS

      YOUNG SORCERER

      On Nature and Tranquility

      THROUGH THE MIRRORED POND

      THE TITANS CLASH.

      BRIEFLY SKIING BUT NOT FREEING

      PATCHWORK QUILT

      FROM MOOSE HALL

      DARK SHAPES EMERGE

      WHEN GEESE HONK OVERHEAD

      TIME OUT

      FINE-FEATHERED FRIENDLY FEAST

      STEARMAN SORTIE

      TAI CHI IN CITY PARK

      FROM TURN MILL, TURN.

      THE MILL TURNS ON.

      MY KINGDOM FOR A MILL

      A JUG OF MILK—A CASK OF WINE

      BLOOD-LUSTING BULLIES

      PROWL THE LAND

      SIMPLE PLEASURES

      THE VILLAGE GOSSIP MILL

      RAGOUT DE RAGONDIN*.

      CURMUDGEONRY

      MERRY XMAS, CONSUMERS!"

      THEY FLOOD THE EARTH WITH TEARS.

      WINDS OF CHANGE AT SIDI JIDIDI

      ICE JAMS ON THE RIDEAU RIVER

      FROM FIGS OF THE IMAGINATION.

      ON THE STAGE OF THE MIND’S EYE.

      I AM WHAT I WAS

      WET DREAMS

      THE SPIRIT OF CHILDHOOD

      THE PRICE OF THEIR TOYS

      MASTERS OF THE UNIVERSE

      I MET HER ONCE YET

      SOUGHT HER IN VAIN

      FROM BUTTERFLY WINGS.

      BUTTERFLY WINGS

      THE YEAR OF THE COMET.

      TEA, SCONES & DEBUSSY

      THE GEESE AT TROIS PISTOLES

      LOVE POEMS FOR CARLA

      NOW TO MAGIC POTION I RESORT

      RETURN TAE AULD REEKIE

      SUPERIMPOSITIONS

      OCEAN’S APART

      SOLILOQUY ON SOLITITUDE

      A HARBOUR FOUND:

      MY DAYS AND NIGHTS NOW SING

      NO TOKEN BUT A VERSE

      DOUBT ME NOT

      GRANTED, BUT NOT FOR GRANTED.

      TO MY PUSSCAT

      SHE DOUBTS HERSELF

      ARE HIS MUSES NOW ON STRIKE?

      HALF DAYS

      DOUBT ME NOT

      THE PUZZLE

      ODE TO STE. CECILIA

      A VALENTINE A DAY

      TO C.C.ON HER 30TH.

      TWENTY-ONE TODAY!

      ON OUR CHILDREN

      AND THEIR CHILDREN

      WALLEE

      VINTAGE 67

      THE TWINS—A PORTRAIT AT FOURTEEN

      TO THOSE NOW GONE:

      BORN, BUT NOT TO BE.

      SHE LIVES IN US

      IN MEMORY OF PAWEL, CELLO TEACHER AND FRIEND.

      HER TENTH LIFE SHE LIVES.

      TO IDA

      LES JOURS PASSENT

      LE ‘NOUS’ VIT TOUJOURS

      Introduction

      Poetry is such gossamer material that, at best, can stimulate the imagination as it evokes the mystical and almost indefinable undercurrents of the conscious and sub-conscious and, at worst, can baffle and discourage. Any attempt to define it as a communications medium and art form is elusive at best and its analysis is fraught with challenges.

      At the objective level there are, of course, the forms, or almost rituals surrounding meter, iambs and all the almost arcane protocols for setting the words in verses. These can range from the simple sobriety of the sonnet to the intricate and almost slavish adherence to patterns and rhyming found in the great epic poetry cycles. These reach their greatest complexity and formality, for example, in the sagas of Corneille and Racine, including the restrictions imposed by the Bienseances—the rules about what can or cannot be presented or said overtly, especially on stage. Conversely, in more modern times, there can be an almost absence of conventions or traditions, such as displayed in blank verse and more contemporary forms.

      The amateur of or newcomer to poetry can be dismayed, mystified and confounded by the medium and might be tempted to ask: "why all these bizarre rules and forms and what does it matter? What is poetry anyway? How, in fact, does poetry differ from other literary forms and when should one resort to it rather than just write prose? It is tempting to point to the answer, or consolation, offered by Moliere in Le Bourgeois Gentilhomme. Mystified by his teacher’s convoluted introduction to the arts, and especially to poetic conventions, the Bourgeois is told that he should not despair that he is not able to pour forth poetic marvels because he is already a master of prose" who, without realizing it, has been has been uttering prose all his life. Yes, but I can hear you object, what distinguishes poetry from prose? What, one might by extension ask, distinguishes good poetry from bad prose, or even bad poetry from good prose? I certainly would rather read good prose than bad poetry, as I would rather read good poetry than bad prose.

      Though I dabble in both poetry and prose and have taught writing, I am no expert on the subject of poetry My gut feeling is that there is a time and a place for both forms and that one knows intuitively which is the appropriate one to use for a given situation. Now, in defense of good prose, I am convinced that if every writer were imbued with the ability to tell a spellbinding story with just the right words and imagery and to express that story in a way that instantly conveys an idea or situation to the reader, then we would have little or no need for poetry. If every writer of prose observed Flannery O’Connor’s prescription for adhering to the Mystery and Manners formula, most novels would be captivating works that excite the imagination. But many don’t, often adhering instead to the action and excitement formula of the top-ten list. To make matters worse, not every writer actually loves the language and its intrinsically musical potential.

      To my mind, all prose should be magical, mysterious and musical and one should be moved as much by the choice of words, metaphors and expressions of the message as by the topic, plot or story line. Just read James Joyce’s Ulysses, if you are wondering what I mean or, for that matter, try one of my earliest inspirations, Ray Bradbury’s Dandelion Wine. But we can’t all write like that, so sometimes, especially in moments of personal indulgence, some of us write poetry instead. For, in poetry there are no holds barred. Mystery is the staple of the medium and music is the staff on which it is most often written. That, from my perspective, is what fundamentally distinguishes poetry from prose—mystery and music. I’d add a third component which, for lack of a better term, I’d call condensation.

      There is hardly any point in resorting to the poetic form if the result just looks and sounds like a shipwrecked fragment from a novel. What the poem can—and too rarely does— is to convey a subject or experience more lyrically, perhaps less explicitly and ideally, in a nutshell. The poem should also have the potential to produce resonances or recognitions in the reader about similar ideas or experiences which that reader has also felt or was unable to express in words. Failing such recognition, the reader can at least enjoy the mystery and the music, because mystery there must be and musicality is what most often distinguishes poetry from prose. Further, I

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