The Secret

Before you read the poem, I'd like you to know that this doll did exist! It lived on for the whole of my mother's life long after I had forgotten all about it. It was tucked into the guestroom bed alongside a teddy-bear she called 'Teddy Oliver'. I don't know why he had that name. I never asked her and she died in 1990. There are so many unanswered questions in my mind. Did my mother have no dolls as a little girl? I never had a teddy. Teddies were for boys, I was told. I never understood why I had a doll in the first place, seeing that dolls are a surrogate for the Bellinda type babies as in the poem, which look very much like real babies at birth, except that you don't go to dolls' hospitals with real babies. I also only had one, as was customary in the old days. My mother did not think I would have children so on reflection letting me have a doll was like putting ideas into my head. She disliked having children and had told everyone she did not want any, but then it came to pass... She must have been disappointed that I did not do exactly what she wanted: no marriage, no family, no nothing(?) I supposed the nothingness is inevitable of you live long enough. I always thought three score years and ten were plenty of life to have, but in fact I'm grateful for still being here, despite the arthritis etc. 

In the beginning...(A cat for all seasons)

...My early poems have been lost, either in the mists of time, or, and that is more likely, have been chucked out alongside all my memories of school, by my mother, who probably needed the space!

My first Russian Doll  is one of my earlier poems, though I wasn't thinking of the Russian Doll phenomenon in poetry (see also first blog post). Sometimes rhythm and repetition take over, as they did here. Russian dolls are playful, of course. As for cats: I can assure you that McIntosh took over the family until he decided to move on. Form is a natural part of poetry-writing and there are hundreds of styles, some of which I would like to discuss as time goes by, not least because I'm very much a learner poet! There is something rather trite about the 5 line form used here, but it is meant to make reciting it more musical. A light-hearted poem that does not like being read out loud lacks musicality. There are plenty of poems you cannot endure because reading them aloud is like walking over cobblestones. Other poems you can only endure when they are recited. A good example (for me) is Longfellow. I used to read Longfellow aloud sitting up in bed soon after I had discovered that reading was amusing. Coming back to Longfellow after many years, I was surprised how much the poem had influenced me musically, but also, how arduously constructed much of it is, especially in the matter of finding rhymes. There are, of course, a lot of poems you would never dream of reading aloud unless alone, since it can be quite embarrassing to be smothered in other peoples's emotional outpourings! Nevertheless, poetry can come from and reach the depths of the human soul. Shakespeare knew, as did many who went before him and innumerable who came after.

Russian Dolls

Wrapped one inside the other like onions.

Which one came first?

Which Russian doll spawned the next.

Did they start small and end big?

Or did they start big and end small?

That is the baffling part of poetry.

In the beginning was the word.

That is the first claim in Genesis, 

the first book of the Bible.

How accurate is that claim?

Is it possible that in the beginning it was 

THOUGHT that took priority?

Would that also mean:

In the beginning was the idea?

Poetry is based on words.

Words are the instrument of poetry.

A poem is thus a play on words.

You have to love words in order 

to give them poetic life.

That is what I hope to do here.

I want you to know that I am struggling 

to find words for my thoughts.

The words are there, like keys on a piano,

but I must unite them 

in order to make poetic music.