DUCK! Poetry! Lookout!

You’ll have to trust me on this – I mean, I wouldn’t lie. Besides, telling the truth is what has me in this pickle to begin with. That pickle being the routine of writing all the time, sharing opinions and recommendations…

Anyway, the bit you have to trust me on is that I received some feedback asking for “more poetry” – which was odd for two reasons: firstly, I just assumed everyone hated poetry. And secondly I didn’t think I was really spamming you all with any poetry to begin with let alone the amount that it might require for a person to ask indeed for “more”.
But I need no further encouragement.

And the timing is delicious. Since – tomorrow night I’ll be doing my first big poetry reading in a while.

The reader that emailed asking me for poetry even specified that he wanted more of my poetry, which I share a lot on my Facebook page. And which you can find by searching my Off The Tracks website. Just type ‘Poem’ in the search bar and you’ll find hundreds. No, really. Pages and pages of the stuff.

I started writing poetry long before I wrote anything else. It’s just always been the thing. I loved reading poetry from a fairly early age but in my teens it was a big focus. And all sorts. The renaissance poets, the metaphysicals, modern songwriters, Willy the Shake and basically anything I could get my hands on or wrap my ears around. This is when I developed now lifelong loves for the words – and style – of James K. Baxter and Sam Hunt. For the work of Fleur Adcock. And the likes of Joni Mitchell, Suzanne Vega, Leonard Cohen, Lou Reed and Bob Dylan helped too – because in their interviews they pointed to poetry. And in their books of lyrics they legitimised lyrics as poetry and often included actual poems too.

So when I was 13 and through to when I was about 21 I typed all of my poems up on an electronic typewriter. My landlord biffed it in a skip when I was slow to move out of a flat. And though I haven’t yet written about that, it’s on easy recall so will make it into the pages one day. As it’s absolutely another story for another time.

I handwrote the poems first, then typed them up after – and I was inspired at first by the music I was listening to and the poetry I was reading. There are still a few poems that survive from those early years and I’m locked in a pact with myself to never look at them. They’re in a loft. There’s a beer crate stuffed with folders – pages and pages and pages. And I think if there’s anything ‘good’ in there it won’t be a huge loss to never unearth it.

These days – and really for most of the last two decades – I’ve used a computer for poetry writing. I will sometimes still scratch an idea out on a piece of paper – I carry notebooks when I remember. But also I make notes in my phone and I type directly to the computer, writing the poem as if its an assignment or a story or a review. And it is. That’s how I see it. Diary entries, little pieces of autobiography – a way of remembering. And a bit of storytelling.

Last year The Cuba Press released my first book of poems, The Death of Music Journalism.

And maybe I felt legitimate – though I think a few years before that my style clicked. For myself I mean. In my teens and twenties I tried many different things – rhyming and traditional forms, earnestly replicating favourite writers. Falling short, of course.

And then I took a break – got busy writing music reviews. And when I came back to poems, around the time of starting my Off The Tracks website, nearly a decade ago now, I felt the form fall into place. Blank verse. Some rhythm and rhyme play, sure. But whimsical stories bent to fit the shape of a poem.

Some people have said that I’m about democratising poetry. Making it accessible. I’m not sure who first said that, it was in a review I believe. But I like it. That’s certainly the aim. Poetry is – or can be – for anyone. I think poetry scares people off sometimes – like jazz, or classical music, or arts festivals. The very word has a fright attached to it. People worrying they won’t ‘get’ it.

I’m still very jealous – or at least in awe – of poets that I couldn’t possibly replicate. I’m doomed to write quickly and publish almost without caution. The blogging/reviewing worlds have punished me there. Publish and be damned. But what I can do is write the way I write. And so, mostly, I’m very okay with this.

Just lately I’ve nestled in on something that I think I like – poems that have a date as the title. So far they’re all eulogies of a sort; a remembrance of a real life lost. And maybe it’s as much or more about me and where I was when I heard the news. But anyway, I can feel a new flow within my style emerging here. And I can feel a bunch of these poems coming. So I’ll share the first three. One is about Michael Jackson. One is about Charles M. Schulz (of Peanuts fame) and one is about Stevie Ray Vaughan.

These are the first three in what I hope will be a new series. Maybe a chapbook – or a sequence within another book. (I would like to publish another book – I already have the material). But for now I’ll put these three here for you to read. I will be reading them out loud for the first time tomorrow night as part of my featured spot at Poetry in Motion.

---

June 25th and 26th, 2009

Michael Jackson died. And I
was picked up in a car and whisked
out to Avalon to speak live on TV –

part of a panel for the Good Morning
show. And then Stuff.co.nz called
and asked me to write something

quickly – which is all I’ve ever done.
Went home and listened to Dr. Dre
and a whole bunch of sealed vinyl, we

opened them up and first-timed them
on an unforgiving plastic replica player
since that was all we had. We played all

sorts of things – though no MJ. Paddy
Gower turned up and did a backspin
on the floor of my lounge.  We stayed

up all night drinking and went to
“The Hangover” movie the next day.
(With a hangover). We bought some beers

to take into the theatre. After the movie,
my mate wanted to listen to
“Off The Wall” but no one else did.

---

Feb 12, 2000

Charles Schulz died the day
his final Peanuts strip was published.
He had retired – called the boat in

while he was still wearing the lifejacket.
And then, the last set of lines. And
a last breath. Turn out the light.

Leave Schroeder to hammer out
a little requiem. Joe Cool snapping
his fingers, Charlie Brown missing

the ball once again. But knowing
it was his soul that allowed him to keep
turning up, this gang drawn together;

the security blanket, the lemonade stand,
the life of work – 50 years and no
holiday, step down and die not just

from the illness but the real ravage
of knowing you can’t put the world
out in the paper any longer.

---

Aug 28, 1990

Maybe it was school holidays,
in fact I’m pretty sure it was – but
I woke up and didn’t feel so good,
so stayed in bed – would have asked
for the day off if I had to.

Got my favourite tapes and my
Guitar World magazine and built
a shrine, sat listening, over and again
and flipping the pages – taking it
all in.

The news had been brief, but very
clear – there’d been a horrific crash.
Eric Clapton and Buddy Guy and
a few others were safe. But Stevie
Ray Vaughan had died.

I had only just recently discovered
his music – and he was the bright
burning flame. He had only just
recently conquered his demons and
that made the news even worse.

All day in my room, listening over
and again – with a pain in my gut
or my heart. And the solos like arrows
headed straight for that wound. My
first hero lost. First hero gone.

---

And if I haven’t scared you off completely here’s a link to me reading a poem from my book live on RNZ – this was recorded last year ahead of the launch.

And here’s an episode of my podcast where I read from the book and shared some stories around the poems and their creation and the making of the book.

Finally, I have a YouTube channel where I read poems. I must be the most uncool person on YouTube. And that’s quite okay with me.

All of my various things – including this Substack newsletter – can now be found in one easy link – click here – thanks to Linktree. I’ll try to remember to include this in newsletters from now on as it has all the social media links and various projects I’m involved in.

https://linktr.ee/Simonsweetman