A note of encouragement to fellow poets

I am not a great advocate of labels,

my thought processes being more akin

to the disinterest shown by cans 

of good value baked beans,

to the cost of designer kitchens 

at fifty grand or more a flippancy.

Nor do I prescribe to Gucci or 

Louis Vuitton handbags and the like;

'made in China,' holding no fear for me.

After all, their culture is one of the

oldest in the world, which leaves me 

in no doubt they know perfectly well

how to stitch a handbag together.

Sadly, I seem in the minority, 

though as a poet of sorts, 

I am well used to this. 

The raised eyebrow, the furtively

pitying look, no longer intruding 

on poetical imperative;

and despite the occasional sulk,

I rather thrive on scorn.

Still and all, the treadmill turns,

tills ring, the vacuous reign supreme;

cawing crows in frantic disharmony,

fifteen minutes of fame, the holy grail.

Whilst unnoticed, the year is almost gone; 

seasons flitting by so quickly, 

that 'tis only poets who have the time 
and inclination to label them.    

Reviews

[Chris Shaw]

Labels, yuck I have wonderful conversations with my 21 year old grandson about labels. People are labelled as never before, by race, gender, sexuality, faith. It drives me nuts and young people nowadays are taking the lead here. I say, why can't people just be people. And then there are the designer labels and the ridiculous amount of money spent on items which put huge amounts of profit into corporate bank accounts. Where am I happiest shopping? Charity shops. I love them and I am recycling which is good for the planet. I try rry hard not to label, but do confess to labelling the four seasons. Interesting and topical write Beccy.

Chris

[jacob erin-cilberto]

i don't label people either...people are what they are inside...i have fought through labels in my lifetime.
I am not one for fashion, never have been...jeans, flannel, t-shirts, shorts...even teaching...i might get raised eyebrows...but the respect in life comes with what we can actually do....not to whom we are attached...and not what we look like or how we dress.
this poem means a lot to me, Beccy...thank you for it.
j.