Poem by the Laureate: 'What's the Point'











Phoebe Clark has been appointed PGS' first Poet Laureate, in which role she will be celebrating and promoting creative expression, in particular the power of language. 


What is the point? Of some words on a page.

In a world where everything is so close 

To your fingertips,

A swipe 

click 

like 

away and within seconds it is yours. 

 

Whereas the words that create a poem are elusive, 

Never quite palpable and always another layer to be discovered. 

Some might ask why spend so much time?

Others might declare they don’t have the time.

If there is an answer to every question 

That google can answer in (0.58 seconds) 

Is poetry, arts, literature, music, film simply an intellectual exercise devoid of true meaning that ‘arty types’ use to feel superior about themselves?


Poetry is like the sea,

Or a watercolour painting, 

Simply try to enjoy it, relax and spend time in it, and 

The longer one spends swimming under the silky smooth surface 

The deeper, darker, more alien it becomes.

But, in that depth are creatures waiting to be discovered,

Those alien metaphors morph into emotions that

Feel so true, it is like your heart wrote the words themselves. 

A shared existence that makes the world seem not so terribly lonely,

Not isolated by a screen but connected through 

Distillations of life, society, love and death 

That makes things crystal clear, 

Articulates your emotions for you, 

but allows you to bring your own experience to the table. 


It is a legacy,

A moment in history, frozen in time,

A record of events from someone living through it, 

Expressing raw and unadulterated emotions,

No textbook allows a singular and sublime voice to be 

Observed, appreciated and preserved

In the way the poetry is used as a microphone, 

Revealing the world in a clear and profound technicolour,

Instead of pixelated and unfocused greyscale. 


So is there a point?

To knowing someone else’s feelings, 

To knowing and understanding your own? 

Learning about the past? 

So that we don’t make the same mistakes, 

So that we know that our own suffering is not isolated.

To comprehend the depths of the oceans, and not shy away from it,

To embrace the aliens that conceal themselves down there,

To know that we are not

And never will be

Alone.




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