Vince and YO – look .....
I shoulda talked ‘proper’ but it’s ok for the pair of you with your copies of One Voice and all. I was told when I rang the record shops last week it would take 4 to 6 weeks if I ordered it in. They don’t carry it here. It’s enough to send anyone crazy, so that’s the result ... 30 words that don’t rhyme or mean anything to you;)
“envoy”: messenger from another place. the Greek word is angelos.
“stone instruments”: cathedrals of England – the ancient structures/musical instruments that amplify and echo back the voices of their choristers – and remember them. As well, the seats, cathedra, of ecclesiastic power – who might send the occasional envoy or representative to the wider world – but not literally so in this instance.
this: the sounds and words from the treasury of sacred music e.g. ”Holy Jesus” .... “Pie Jesu, Qui tollis peccata mundi” – veneration in contrast to the profanation of that name which characterises so much of everyday life.
“egolessness”: the submersion of identity, necessary to become part of the unity of a choir. abandon showmanship all who enter here.
“rocking on scuffed sneakers”: an appearance on bgt in buttercup hoodie, blue jeans, and sneakers – my fave. rocking is a little sign of nervousness.
“gangling arms”: of growth spurts.
“unused to thumbs up or down”: out of place in singing the liturgy of the annual church cycle but definitely part of going into an arena where the approval of judge or judges and the public mean the difference between ‘carrying on singing’ or silence ... as far as a wider public like you or me are concerned. English church music meets vaudeville – happily.
My poem was a ‘thank you’ to Morag for her gumption in entering boyo into the bgt comp.
“theresian swoon”: as in Theresa of Avilla and her vision of heaven. hyperbolic in this instance but in some small way descriptive of Amanda’s reaction and of many of those in the audience on the 12th (not quite sure of the date) of April of this year. it seems such a long time ago now.
flickering smile: obvious.
I would not have needed to explain anything if my poem had been any good. I was aiming for restraint. It seems I achieved too much.
Poetry doesn’t have to rhyme. It’s a heightening of language and meaning and feeling – at once a compression of things – an impression of things – a juxtaposition of words and ideas so that they mean more than if they were alone – and so, paradoxically – an amplification of things – of experience .... a sketch in words.
It will give or yield, strangely, though not always, in measure of what is brought to it.
Try making a poem some time when the spirit moves you. It’s fun.
Cheers bloxta, YO and anyone else similarly perplexed:)
. When I read it yesterday, I got some parts, but was still unsure - that’s all. Poetry is beautiful, and so was yours. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad in any way, was just telling Blocksta that it takes a higher level of thinking to understand what’s going on in poetry 
. I knew the scuffed sneakers and gangling arms meant Andrew though, for sure! I hope Morag gets to see the poem soon, it really was good!
