Skip to main content

A plague on all these houses



It's a great poem, Lowell's For the Union Dead.
I only recently came across it - at least, that's what I thought - but it's been grunting (I choose the word advisedly) away in my head ever since, especially that fourth verse.

Behind their cage,
yellow dinosaur steam shovels were grunting
as they cropped up tone of mush and grass
to gouge their underworld garage.

It took a little while for me to realise why.
Before (I thought) I'd read it, I wrote a poem about the new housing estates springing up round our little town. I was thinking about the various creatures that had lived on the field that was to be covered with houses - sheep primarily - and then those that were to follow.

The first were, well, a sort of dinosaur.

Here's my second verse:

At first it was the one-armed monsters,
set free within their caged arena
to trundle round, and gently paw
the ground, then pile up mounds of earth
accompanied by Lego men.

I was pleased with my trope, so much so that I continued with it later in the poem.

And then I encountered Lowell's dinosaurs.
I was sure my metaphor was my own original idea. So, what had happened?

Had I heard or read the Union Dead before, and 'forgotten' it?
Or perhaps the idea wasn't very original anyway?

Would it have been better if I hadn't recently met Lowell's poem? Then I'd never have known.
So I've made the discovery, and wonder what's best to do. I really don't want to take out that
verse, as jettisoning my one-armed monsters means the whole poem has to follow suit.

I wonder how many others have had this experience.

Having been involved in an unpleasant plagiarism incident (not committed by me, I say
quickly) maybe I'm extra sensitive to such issues. Be that as it may, I felt uneasy.

Well, all this has got me thinking about these things. I hope that in talking about it, I'm not
pretending or covering up, which is what the plagiarist would do.

Covering up?

That's what happens in the poem...


Field Work

One night the stock-proof hedge just went,
and gate and bank. Instead there sprang
a clean steel fence. What stock requires
such stout protection, or has need
to be enclosed, to hold them fast?

At first it was the one-armed monsters,
set free within their caged arena
to trundle round, and gently paw
the ground, then pile up mounds of earth
accompanied by Lego men.

A half-built road the next arrival
brought to a halt by two tall poles
flimsily strung with ribboned string.
The kerbs continued after the gravel
petered out, while hi-vis men stood

round in groups like sheep, and watched
those clever yellow creatures draw
walls from the ground in that old field,
then scaffolding, so they could climb
to see each roof fall into place.

I never saw them plant the lights,
unroll the lawns or pin on porches –
I’m sure the shiny-sinewed ones
saw to that, after the men
removed their helmets, taking home

their noise. The dock-filled field behind
its hedge has gone for good. Instead,
conservatories and garden sheds,
sparkling cars and wheelie-bins and
miles of wooden fences.

Comments

  1. This comment has been removed by the author.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Whether you have a green thumb and love pruning trees or can’t stand the thought of it but know it needs to be done, a good pruning saw is your friend. Having the right saw on-hand can make the difference between a quick job and hours of hard cutting. Top 10 Best Pruning Saws for Trees [2020 Review] - Polesawguide

    ReplyDelete
  3. This comment has been removed by the author.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Whether you're a natural with plantsand enjoy trimming trees or dread the task but recognize its necessity, a reliable pruning saw can be your best companion. The right saw can transform a lengthy and arduous cutting job into a quick and efficient task. Don't underestimate the value of investing in a good pruning saw - it can save you time and effort in the long run.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Signpost

Here’s a signpost – originally distinctive, being unique and handmade, and now even more so, with the evidence of ageing.   … numbers, distances, which way? While all signposts are interesting in their duty to inform, their presentation of choices and their simple declarative presence, I find this one special. It’s not just that it has much to say in terms of where you actually are, in which direction you might choose to go, how far your destination is (down to quarter mile accuracy) and even if your chosen method of transport is suitable. It’s also special in the simple elegance of its design, with the arms’ supports and the bevelled edges of the main post rising to that unexpected point. But the specialness goes further.  My friend James Ravilious took me there just at this time of year, over twenty years ago.  It was then upright and brilliant white, with crisp black letters. He certainly thought it was special, photographing it lovingly, in May 1988 ( Chawleigh Week Cross –

My blog this month isn't a poem – nor even several...

  My blog this month isn't a poem – nor even several. No, this time it's a set of little films of poems. After sharing them with several of you, I apologise straight away if you've already seen them, but you might be interested to hear some thoughts on the matter. And if you don't want to hear me thinking about making films of poems, just ignore what follows and go straight to the YouTube link.   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qbwJYkDeGIs&list=PLbC1BOoALpN-xyuGJCIAqJjImAi1aAfrY   I hope you enjoy the films. And please tell me what you think! You may remember a couple of the poems appearing in past blogs, with me writing about the possible presentation of poetry in this way. Time was when poetry existed solely as the spoken or sung word – it took some time for it to be written down.  Now, for the most part, it exists and flourishes in both these forms. Recently, and refreshingly, it seems to have been recovering more of its original orality. Now we liv