Tuesday, 13 October 2009

History

Hello. I'm delighted to be Poet Laureate on this blog. Here's my introductory poem.


History

is some kind of climb,
a plinth moment,
repeated on the hour in a different costume.

History is Nelson
stepping down;
another poet said it’s a long dark chute.

History is light
dawning:
that feeling, that fact; the way it was.

History is a text,
a voice:
artefact of here from then.

History is a croft,
one candle burning,
or a great house gas-lit by chandeliers.

History
is the way eyes close
and new news becomes old.

1 comments:

Malcolm said...

Thank you, Pam! I hope this doesn't seem gushing, but I didn’t dare dream of something this astonishing when I suggested a Poet Laureate. This is so very far from being an introductory poem: it’s masterful. I have books on my shelves with titles such as What is History?, and even if they get it, which they rarely do, it dies in the twisted prose. When people ask me what History is, I now have six beautiful answers. It’s very hard to say what history really is, but the calm, clear voice you’ve shared here understands it: it gets it. You get it.