Why I love poetry / Why I hate poetry
There are many things that it is inadvisable to do on a rainy Sunday afternoon. Going to the swings and slides, for instance. Attempting to take up jogging. (It is never advisable to take up jogging.) Oh, and arguing with me about poetry
My arsenal is great (or that's what I like to think) and my persistence, at least until you distract me with chocolate (preferably Green and Blacks' honeycomb variety), never ending. This was the lesson that Trevor, the digital publisher of literary magazine Far Off Places, learned to his chagrin when he attempted to tell me that he 'doesn't much like poetry'. Nothing irritates me more than when people say they ‘don’t like poetry’. It’s like saying you don’t like music - as if there’s no difference between Mozart and Madonna. As I assume most readers of this blog are followers of the cause, I won't attempt to preach to the converted. But if you like a good fray, check out our argument on Far Off Place's blog.
Over the next few weeks and months, Trevor and I will be fighting teeth and claw (Ahem. Debating in a civilised fashion) over some of our favourite/most loathed pieces of poetry on the poetry round. Watch this space to see who comes out on top.