If one were to list the three in ascending order of serious, at first sight one might be tempted to put McGough, Henri and Patten. While, all three are capable of light humour and also profundity, possibly McGough who has the reputation as a lightweight. A former member of The Scaffold (Lily the Pink), he is these days most known for his children's poetry, and his radio and TV rent-a-poet appearances.
However, whenever I recall The Mersey Sound, I realise that it is McGough's contributions that have the most lasting impression.
Anyway...
Comeclose and Sleepnow
it is afterwards
and you
talk on tiptoe
happy to be part
of the darkness
lips becoming limp
a prelude to tiredness
Comeclose and Sleepnow
for in the morning
when a
policeman
disguised as the sun
creeps into the room
and your mother
disguised as birds
calls from the trees
you will put on a dress of guilt
and shoes with broken high ideals
and refusing coffee
run
alltheway
home.
12 comments:
The poetry of Roger McGough either turns me on or turns me off. Much of it, like the joke that falls flat, I find somewhat banal. This, I'm pleased to say is one of his better ones and I think it's a good one to kick off with.
It's needs no explanation, the wordplay is bright and light and the 'sly' poetic touch is just what's required.
There's another poem of Roger's that I enjoy very much and it's about a man who returns from the War with a bag of bayonets and swastikas. Unfortunately I don't have the title but it would also be an interesting one to feature and to compare anhd contrast with this one if you could find it.
Ah! Welcome anonymous, and thanks for getting it rolling.
Yes, that's a good comment. He ranges from banal to brilliance.
I've just read a univsrity site which suggests that the poem is about an older man with a less sexually experienced woman. He's mocking her at various points (espcially the end lines).
That's shite. We have to remember the 60's context. Nice girls didn't Society was on the cusp between a new and old sexual morality. The couple are in a bubble of bliss amongst a tradition of guilt. This adds to the poem's intimacy.
An obvious features of the poem are its lack of capitals (except for Comeclose and Sleepnow, its unusual line breaks and the concatenated phrases (Comeclose; Sleepnow; alltheway). What do we think he's done there?
Your peek at the uni-website mentioned only proves that there's often as much tripe talked about poetry as there is about subjects like football, fishing and wine.
This poem is about the tender deflowering of a maiden. She trips around the room on her toes, happy as a lark, and her suitor knowing that she must run home at dawn, we imagine her in her mother's high-heels, invites to comeclose and savour and linger ...teaching her that it's not merely the satisfaction of the sexual act, the breaking of the hymen (he appears to have given her a good rogering if you'll pardon the pun -consider the lips to which he refers ... which lips are these) but shows that the importance of this momentous event also lies in the whole night(she can't wait to tell all her schoolfriends) until sunrise and dawn chorus. We know she is under age because of the policeman sun.
How the university contributor worked out the case for an old man's impotence is quite beyond my powers of deduction.
Well...Ted Hughes once spoke at my school. He said that poem is a jug that readers can fill with different liquids of their choosing. I'm not quite sure I'm drinking the same stuff as you...
It's about languid snuggling. Note the verbs, to Comeclose and to Sleepnow. They're what languid cuddlers do. To a large extent, they're the whole point of sex - hence the capitals and the concatenation.
And while I'm here...do we agree with Hughes? I'm not sure I do. We need supporting evidence for our opinions.
My view is possibly coloured by my perception of McGough. How important is a knowledge of a poem's author or backstory? (given my roots, the Liverpool context is important to me.)
Yes, I agree that there is an offer for her to get back under the sheets for some 'languid snuggling' but note with care that the poet uses phrases which support earlier 'goings on' I have spoken about.
In the novel I'm presently reading, by way of example, there's a seduction scene which begins in a room where a man is standing near "a partially unrolled firehose". This kind of innuendo is often used to make a point.
I think the word 'broken' for example does appear in the McGough
and so we have to figure out what the point of this word is.
As for Hughes's remark I see what he is getting at but I think he's just trying to encourage the kids to read poems. There's a very good poem by Hughes called Salmon Eggs. I think Hughes was a GREAT poet at times, and I don't use the word lightly.
I just checked something. I meant to praise the poem 'October Salmon' in my last post, not the poem 'Salmon Eggs' .
Hi Ed, I said I'd be here and I've finally got round to it. I found the poem quite entertaining, and easily accessible for a poetry ignoramus like myself, but it certainly struck me as being very light. Lines like "a policeman disguised as the sun" make it a bit too childish for me I think.
Actually I liked both of your comments almost as much as the poem itself, which seems to support the jug filling theory. I can certainly see where you're both coming from but you know I don't think I would have picked up on all (or even much) of that, and this is why I feel I don't "get" poetry. Perhaps it's just a matter of experience though, like doing crosswords?
>>Perhaps it's just a matter of experience though, like doing crosswords?
That's an excellent point. What I hope to pick up out of this is some more crossword-solving techniques. More ideas on how to make sense of the mystery that is a poem.
Another analogy: Mathematical techniques? Apply this way of looking at it and you'll open up a new layer of understanding.
Damn it. I like this despite myself. I generally can't take rhymeless metreless (do they call it 'free'?) verse: unjustified prose as the man said. But the dress of (quilt) and the broken high (heels), I like that.
~Recumbentman
I'm not convinced that this is free verse. There's definitely some structure to it.
Yes, possibly there's a little bogus poetification about it - the lines split up in a 'significant'-looking way. (cf when pop song covers are sung at a snail's pace in an attempt to make the banal seem profound).
On the other hand, there's a breathy driftiness. Thoughts tripping through the mind on the verge of sleep.
I see a parallel between the way I react to poems like this and the way I react to modern, or more specifically, abstract art: rather than looking for meaning, though it is clearly there, I am struck by the structure and juxtaposition of words.
If I look at a Rothko or a Pollock, I see colour and shape: here I feel the rhythm and am struck by his neologisms (or unusually concatenation, if you prefer). Even if I look at something that might be vaguely representational, like a Picasso, I'm not hung up on where the poor woman's nose is, so much as the organic nature of the shapes.
I've been in galleries where someone will start to expound on what the artist was trying to do. Sometimes I can see what they mean; sometimes I think it is just pretentious twaddle. But my failure to understand the mind of the artist doesn't mean I don't appreciate the form.
In the case of McGough, when forced to confront the content, I can see many nuances that he might have intended. But failing to understand him precisely doesn't lessen the strong impression of intimacy that he evokes.
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