Poetry in the making …

Poetry in the Making – Ted Hughes

Because it is occasionally possible,
just for brief moments,
to find the words that will unlock the doors
of all those many mansions inside the head
and express something – perhaps not much,
just something –
of the crush of information
that presses in on us …

Words that will express something
of the deep complexity
that makes us precisely the way we are …

And when words can manage something of this,
and manage it in a moment of time,
and in that same moment make out of it
the vital signature of a human being
– not of an atom, or of a geometrical diagram,
or of a heap of lenses –

but a human being,
we call it poetry.

AND THANKS FOR THOSE WORDS, TED – I’M NO POET, SO I CALL IT ‘THE FUGITIVE STAG.’

STAG by Richard Allen

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