Recently I was subjected to a bit of literary criticism by that doyenne of the world of criticism and well known blogosphere troll David Duff; no, I am not going to give him the satisfaction of providing a link to his home… It was my poetry that he took objection to:-
“I think, by and large, on the whole and taking it in the round, as it were, poetry(?) is not your way out! Try knitting, or running a marathon, or join the il-Lib-non-Dems, or anything really, but not, I’m afraid to tell you, poetry.”
Now I do not mind criticism as long as it is constructive, however this was far from constructive; I am not sure what this person would call poetry, perhaps he likes the works of someone like Patience Strong. Personally, I find that sort of thing quite bland and not at all to my taste. Perhaps it was the content that he objected to, he actually didn’t ever manage to make it clear wht his objections were; he simply launched a personal attack, as is his wont on many other blogs. I have thought long and hard about what I write and would now like to set the record straight. I write what I think and what I feel, and if people don’t like it then I don’t force them to read it. My message to the David Duffs of the blogosphere is that, like it or not, poetry is about life in all of its guises. Sometimes it will be about being in a hay meadow on a brilliant sunny summer day surrounded by birds and bees (pass the bucket please), but more often than not it will reflect the gritty, grimy, shitty side of life! Life is not, to use a well worn cliche, a bowl of cherries; life can be a real shithole for some people, and the sooner that the Duffs of this world realise that the better…
Rant Over.
