What is poetry for? Does it tell us universal truths about ourselves and the world around us? Is it mere entertainment? Is it just to confuse Year 11 students in their exams?
I think that poetry is a way of explaining the complex or uncertain things that are sometimes beyond our range of perception as individuals. I think that poetry, much like science, or even religion, is a way of making sense of the world around us.
In this poem, Roger Mcgough considers what a world without poetry would look like. It feels like there are two characters here. Let’s call them the poet and the scientist. I wonder which makes the most sense?
The Death of Poetry
by Roger McGough
The fallen leaves this morning
are in a silly mood.
Dancing and leapfrogging
they chase each other down the road.
No, that’s not true.
Leaves don’t have moods.
Unable to dance or play organised games,
what you see is merely dead matter.
Then it’s the wind bringing them to life!
Full of mischief, it races along the pavement
tugging at scarves, knocking off hats,
whistling as it goes.
No, that’s not true either.
The wind doesn’t have feelings. Inanimate,
it’s a force of nature, as simple as that.
Wind is just air on the move.
Then it must be the sun smiling down on us!
Or the moon!
Yes, the moon who knows all our secrets,
dreaming in her star-filled chamber.
Boiling gas. Frozen rock.
Put away your pen. Close your book.
