Tonight I met the poet and author Simon Armitage.
The verb to meet, I should say, has been used rather loosely here. I’m sure nervously asking for an autograph with a side order of small talk doesn’t come under the dictionary’s definition of ‘to meet’. Nevertheless, after this acquaintance and consequential fluster, my friend and I (as well as an audience of people) spent an evening listening to a man, who, in my opinion, reigns high among the poets who walk the Earth.
I realise that ‘becoming inspired’ is a clichéd requirement when going to poetry readings and such, but that’s how I feel. I’m inspired to write poetry not to change the world but to write simply to write. To find meaning and novelty in even the dullest of things, even in ‘kicking mushrooms’.
‘If you try to write a poem about the meaning of life you’ll end up writing about a brick wall. However, if you write a poem about a brick wall it’s more likely that you’ll write about the meaning of life’.
What I found most amusing was his minor mocking of how schools teach us to analyse a poet’s use of ‘form’. He explained how he had half-heartedly adapted a poem about water to visually appear like a tide (i.e. the lines went in and out) in order to satisfy this artificial checklist of critical analysis. Awww.
Until this evening it had never been so accurate to compare me to one of Justin Bieber’s ‘fan girls’!