As part of my poetry retreat last weekend I was fortunate enough to spend Saturday morning looking round Charles Causeley's house, which is now a museum and pretty much preserved as it was at the time when he died.
Charles Causeley spent most of his life in Launceston, Cornwall. He was a school teacher at the same school he had been a pupil. He was quite simply an excellent poet.
Though I was conscious when I was looking round that I was in his personal space I did write this poem.
Rummaging Through Charles Causeley’s Record Collection
nothing grabs me
too classical by far
save for a solitary
Oscar Peterson plays Cole Porter
I could grove to that
but the atom powered Dansette
monophonic record player is missing its needle
and I feel too much the tomb robber
on exploring Charles Causeley’s house
we might be buyers with money to burn
this could be a viewing
house all shipshape
bristol fashion
I am in the footsteps of a poet I don’t know
a most modest master
so I search for clues
open drawers look in wardrobes
but you cannot wear another’s words
purloin their inspiration
it doesn’t work like that
I think tomb robber is about right for how I felt. I was conscious of the fact that I was looking for inspiration in the very place where most of his ideas coalesced. It was unique experience and thanks to Annie for organising the weekend.
I go through the book collection - but I am not capable of writing poetry about it :)
ReplyDeleteHi Anna,
DeleteI go through people's book collections as well! I think it is an insight into the individual, but that could be simply pop psychology at its worst.
I am sure you novels are poetic in there style.
Take care.