The Complex Matter of Poetry: An Introduction

By Sibhéal McGarry

I had made a point sometime in late May to complete all the poetry anthologies within my possession. No easy task this would be, as my interest in poetry began when I was only sixteen. Prior to this age, I had been an avid reader; a lover of all literature except for this particular form. Poetry had always appeared to me to be utterly and unequivocally pretentious at its root. It was a collection of loosely rhymable words with no conceivable meaning.

I am glad that I was very wrong.

My ignorance was challenged when an old friend discovered one Elizabeth Barrett Browning (If you are not familiar with Browning, I would highly recommend her poem ‘How Do I Love Thee’). Our lunch time get togethers to discuss the newest but predictable YA novels on the market were no more. Conversation was dominated by the devices Browning flawlessly weaved into her work. Suddenly, I no longer had anything to add to the debate, I was wholly and completely uneducated on the topic.

I would find my younger self, on an evening in late summer, about two years ago, perusing the poetry selection in Waterstones. Volumes littered the shelves, some with embossed titles and elaborate coverings, whereas others were simple paperbacks with no more than fifty pages. In the glaring light of the fluorescent bulbs that lit up the neat columns of poetry, I was intimidated by the fact that I recognised so very few poets. I felt an increasing despondency as I was accustomed to being the authority on literary matters, but I was completely lost while casting my gaze over the unfamiliar titles.

I picked up my first and most loved collection of poetry that day. Vintage Classics’ ‘Collected Poems of Robert Frost’. From the onset I couldn’t ascertain much from the title or the solitary lone leafless tree that adorned the cover. ‘Fire and Ice’ was the only poem of his I was aware of. This poem has appeared in literature, film and even through song. George R.R. Martin, the author of Game of Thrones, paid homage to it in his ‘A Song of Ice and Fire’ series.

In short, I have read all of Frost’s poetry, which is quite a big undertaking. I did not complete the task in one day. Covering everything has taken me years. I believe that like Martin I must pay homage to Frost. Frost remains my best loved poet despite the great names that I am now acquainted with. His first published volume, ‘A Boy’s Will’, remains my most cherished volume. It contains some of my prized poems of Frost, including but not limited to ‘Spoils of the Dead’, ‘October’ and ‘Flower Gathering’. He ignited a love within me for this literary form.

If you are interested in exploring the works of Frost, I would recommend reading ‘Fire and Ice’, ‘The Road not Taken’ and ‘Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening’.

This brings me to the latest anthology I have completed: ‘Everyman’s Library Pocket Poet’. Here I came across the work of a lesser-known poet, known as James Simmons.

Simmons was a bright man from Derry, who attended Campbell College in his youth. He earned his English degree while he was abroad in Leeds, and would later teach at Friends School Lisburn. In 1968, he accepted a position at the newly opened University of Ulster in Coleraine, where he would remain until 1984. He was a man who was unabashedly involved within his community.

Simmons was known for his wit and honesty, but was also attuned to the heightened sensitivities of life.‘The Archaeologist’ cleverly pens every persona that made up Simmons into a singular poem. The poem details the narrator navigating the loss of love and reminiscing of an older, happier time.

He is undoubtedly a very talented poet, although he remains somewhat relegated with only a small amount of anthologies acknowledging his works, and with no books dedicated solely to his poetry.

I believe that in today, society, even the matter of poetry, is marginalised. Often others have expressed negative judgement when they learn of my interest. Many are still of the belief that poetry pertains to merely just poems that feature love or death.

But it is so much more. I hope that in writing a regular column detailing my exploration of poetry that this may negate some of those attitudes, so that poets such as Simmons receive the acclamation they deserve when poetry becomes more celebrated.

Edited by Tiffany Murnaghan