Breaking News

This just in: after many harrowing nights trying to better my verse, I’ve come to the sad conclusion that has escaped me all this while. To put it simply, I need a break.

I will sleep. O boy!

Writing is not an easy thing: Bukowski will tell you that. While I’ve tried hard to define and redefine myself, I’v erred, much like my ever dear Molloch, and gone astray. Whatever they said about that road less travelled turned out to be BS. That’s subjective, and in my current mood, I could whip up a storm.

I’ll save you all the drama and blurt it out in one line: I’m going on a poetic recess. But this one will be much more than that. It is as if I am at a crossroads, and the way forward has been marked clearly, and I am not ready for that journey.

I’ll put on hold all writing projects, open, secret and speculative, and go on a vacation from the written word. I will be reading and consuming.Enjoying mostly, while being as choosey as I can ever get. It will be fun. Should be.

If you still have it in you, my dear writer, write.

Thoughts Concerning The Learning of Art.

Music is not entirely new to me. That is the first fact I want to establish in this short note. The second fact is this: Music Theory is very technical. Though some opinions may differ, this should also be accpeted by the majority of us novices who dream of understanding and writing classical music themselves.

In recent days, I’ve been immersed in learning the more technical, some would say “scientific”, aspects of poetry and music. The road has been rough, and I’ve been badly bruised and thoroughly discouraged often enough. This, I believe, is partly because of an issue which has no doubt bothered some minds before me: “Can art be learned, or is it only innate, and peculiar to some particular individuals?”

Is art innate, or can it be learned? (C) Google Images

My short answer is “Yes and no.”

There are usually very useful generalizations to be made in any particular art form, and upon critical, objective study of several works, patterns begin to emerge, and it is based on these patterns that various theories are formulated. Very simplistic, I know, but this serves as a rough summary of the trend we are all too familiar with.

Take poetry, and its literary devices used for effect and employed to enhance the experience of the reader (consumer). Whereas some of our most recognized poets had no formal training, and indeed, most spectacular poets needed no formal training in the lore, they all somehow employed similar techniques to achieve similar effects. Academics and critics will generalize on these, and come up with theories which will enhance the art of the other aspiring writers and help give form and meaning and structure to an erst chaotic art world.

In some respects, art can be learned, and this is a good thing. One author wrote in his book “The rules are meant to be broken, but you cannot break them without first knowing them.”.

Many hold this view, and this jsutifies the numerous attempts (college degrees included) to formalize the study of art. One major reason why art has progressed in our society has been the willingness of those involved to formalize their work, and to nudge that careless hand of subjectivity away from the reigns.

Some “scientific” study of how art works, and why it does work in this or that way is needed, and often is very helpful to its progress.
I’ll use myself as an example (because, quite naturally, I’m most familiar with myself).

I have a reasonable sense of what works for me, when it comes to writing simple melodies. Many more have got this “feeling” for music, and take it to great heights; case in point, Paul McCartney, who, I’m told, never “studied” music.

However, I’v found that though cumbersome and sometimes seemingly restrictive, learning the formal theory does give some form of “better” grounding in knowing what works, what doesn’t, (according to the rules, not the audience), and how to play with all the factors that come together to make an actual composition.

By learning about the theory, we open ourselves to a vast array of technical possibilities that could only be well explored in a more formal environment. We may find that some guidlines don’t resonate well with our feel for what works, while others justify our past techniques.

Truth is, formal learning can be used to restrict the creative spirit. I’ve read a few texts on “How to Write Poetry” that were overly dogmatic and sometimes just plain narrow minded. Others have tried to make generalisations on poetry that make a very good joke instead. Many artists who found themselves in their fields by their so-called “natural gifts” shun formal learning, fearing it may somehow taint their originality.

They may be more likely to overlook the fact that these formal explorations of their interests were themselves based on “original” creative work, and they will likely miss out on the vast array of ideas explored by formal study, which are anything by restrictive.

They can mind their spirits and close their books. That suits them quite well.

For those who are more into formal study, I will have this to say: In many cases, it can only be truly enriching when there is some element of “individual talent” involved.

Yes, I said it. This does not mean that some people are “special”, and can do stuff we cannot do. Some people truly are special, can do stuff we can only be jealous of, and that’s a fact we have to learn to admit. However, there is an element of art within everyone; an element of what works and what doesn’t.

We all have that innate muse that whispers in our ears “This sounds nice. This reads well. This meter is very consistent.”. Anyone who has ever fallen in love with another person, inanimate object, animate-but-non-human object, or even an abstract idea (like a piece of music) has got that very human quality that can be refined – not restricted – by formal study.

Many times, I’ve read a poem or two that were very poor by the most liberal standards, but still had this “gem” within the lines that spoke immensely about the person’s sense of art. An apt metaphor will be a diamond in the mud (or something worse, but let’s just leave it there.).

Till we meet again, keep reading, and writing, and (for my music nuts) listening to all things enriching.

Have a great day.

Quick Note: Good Poetry Empathizes

Hello Readers!

After the lenghty essay I posted a few days ago, I want to leave this short note on my thoughts concerning the essence of a good poem.

I’ve struggled to hit the mark for several obvious reasons. Anyone who has been full hardy enough to attempt a generalisation in poetry will be familiar with the backlash.

Even then, I will boldly state, at the risk of hubris, that a good poem is one that can empathise with the reader. This came to me in a brief moment of inspiration, and I must relate to you what I feel is right about poetry.

I’v written poems that have been shallow and plain, and I’v written some that have resonated deeply with the hearts of my readers. Those ellicited the most encouraging response. Some however, judged rather harshly, the spirit of many of those poems, and I understand their stance.

When within a group of supposedly like-minded individuals, non-conformity is a capital sin. I commit it often, because of one principle I hold in all poetry; it must be written for the poet first, then the readership second.

This principle underscores the fact that some level of empathy must exist in a poem to make it “good”, in that sense of the word. The empathy must first start with the poet. It must reflect something within the poet, and must be in conformity with the poet’s spirit, before it will be given that power to truly touch the hearts of the readership. This preserves the individual uniqueness of every poem published.

We may argue then, that a poet cannot explore anything without himself. The true is the same about life and how we perceive it. It cannot be interpreted without the subjective tint of the individual.

When a poets attempts a piece, even on something far removed or generally regarded as objective, there must be an element of the person within the poem when it comes out.

Truth is, this cannot be avoided. The choice of our words are evident even in paraphrased poems; especially in paraphrased poems. Seeing this as a very natural process, it must be embraced fully and used – not exploited – used for the benefit of the poet, her reader, and to the enrichment of the art. Most importantly, it must be used well. The poet must love it first.

Till when we meet again, keep your poems your own, and make them good. No. Better.

Happy New Year!

Ghost On Guard [To Nkrumah]: A Critical Look

Hello Friends!

As I announced last week, I have begun my major literary project of critically reviewing distinguished Ghanaian Poetry. Two changes have been made so far, to the original plans. The first is this, that the series will run on this blog. I hoped to start another blog dedicated entirely to Ghanaian poetry, but these plans have been shelved for later.

The second change is this; due to my inability to find any Ghanaian poems from other distinguished poets on such a short notice, I have resorted to analyzing the poem of a poet I’m personally acquainted with.

His name is Adjei Agyei Baah, and he writes under the pen name “Sinbad.” His patriotic piece is a tribute-of-sorts to the late Dr. Kwame Nkrumah , Ghana’s first president. The full text of the poem is listed below:

Ghost on Guard [To Nkrumah]

They blinded him
For his vision
And crippled him
For his movement
They removed his chair
When he stood up
And clipped his wings
From flying high
To tear through the cloak
Of injustice and oppression
They sealed his lips
From sending sisterly messages of glue
And made him die in a barren land
Where he once sprinkled some seeds of hope

They saw his brain too big
To be housed in his smallish skull
But could not deny him a place of honor:
‘African’s man of the millennium’

And now his ghost stands on guard
Humbly watching and waiting
As his mighty works
Have become hunters
Haunting the visionless!

On the poem: Ghost on Guard [To Nkrumah]

The poem begins with an accusing “They”.
The first four lines work an image with a matching of an impeding action against some sort of progress. It seems the subject of the poem, obviously Nkrumah’s ghost was, in his past life, prevented from achieving something potentially great.
That it begins with a vision, and continues with a movement, makes it obvious that the task at hand must have been something monumental. Adding to this is the fact that is was not a single person, but “they”, who had to blind Nkrumah, and cripple him.

The use of the connective “for” indicates that this was no mean accident. It seems that the blinding and crippling of Nkrumah is seen as a punishment from the poet’s point of view. Whether it was justly deserved is not stated explicitly.
The fifth and sixth lines present a rather interesting twist to the poem, and to the characterisation of “they”.
Hitherto, a patriotic writing of pan-African poet in these times where neo-colonialism is seen as a threat in Africa, (and judging from the poet’s prefered stance on such issues, as I personally know him) it may be easy to make a quick judgement, that “they” refers to the ever distant “West”, our european colonizers, and their American “cohorts”.
However, we see a rather unexpected twist, when

“They removed his chair
When he stood up”

That looks a lot like local treachery. To the tenth line, we see a picture of a once seated man getting up (taking the initiative) and flying to tear through the cloak of injustice and oppression. This line may well serve as an explicit reference to Nkrumah’s overthrow in a coup while he was away from the country.

Compounded with the imagery of a cloak adds a level of complexity to the true nature of “they”. It seems, from the use of the word “cloak”, that Nkrumah was seeking to rend the shroud of injustice and oppression place on his people by some alien oppressor, and yet, he was betrayed by the other characerisation of “they”- his own people.

The last four lines of the first stanza reflect the character of the first four, and give us some more detail into his exact actions; the contents of his vision and the goal of his movement.

History teaches us that Nkrumah did not die in the country he once was prime minister/president of. Whether this “barren land” is a reference to the perceived ”moral dearth” in Europe is open to debate.
The very last line of the first stanza seems rather unexpectedly to point back to Africa. The death “they … made him die” may rather represent his vision of Africa, which seems to have been his sole mission in life, and thus, the embodiment of his very being.

The fact that his death is not cast in a natural light, but rather a final act of punishment metted out by “they” brings the chapter of impedance to a hopeless end, contrasting it with the symbolic importance of what the poet perceives as Nkrumah’s actions – The sprinkling of some seeds of hope.

That the poet said “some” and not the definite “the” indicates that this actions was not complete in itself, but just a part of a much greater call to work and revolution to overthrow the old and re-build a new Africa.

The next stanza borrows it’s character from the first, and once again points us to the African origin of some of “they”. Although they belittled his efforts, the African “they” could not deny him a place of honour, as “Africa’s man of the millenium.” He was voted by BBC World Service listeners in the year 2000.

An interesting irony is the poet’s description of the skull of Nkrumah as “smallish“. Nkrumah had a very pronounced fore-head.
The poems final stanza continues from the second, refering to the title of the poem. Nkrumah’s ghost now stands “on guard”, and humbly watches and waits.

This image is a humbling tribute of a man whose life was much grander than his death. Nkrumah’s legacy has been reduced in Ghana’s politics of today. His political party, once the only legal political movement in the country (Nkrumah seemed to lean towards Soviet Style single-party communism/dictatorship) is reduced to a fledgling shadow of its smaller self, and hardly makes any noticeable gains in presidential elections, though it boasts a great history.

We are not told for what he is waiting, but we get the idea that all he does now is to watch from the shadows, perhaps with some humble satisfaction, as his “mighty works” have become hunters (or perhaps ghosts like him, because of their death, and because they now) “haunt the visionless.”

Exclaiming at the close of this poem is an open jest to “they” who did not have a vision, yet who, at the begining of the poem, “blinded him for his.”

Thoughts on the Poem:

Being reviewed in Dr. Nkrumah’s centenary year, it is apt to point out the timeliness of this poem. Throughout the piece, the poet shows an earnest longing for the past times, while regretting the actions that have lead to Ghana’s present day democracy. This conservative view is one I find prominent in most African poetry. There is the tendency among our poets to romanticize the past. Ghanaian poets, especially those who were fortunate to witness the times of former idealistic regimes are themselves most likely to echo similar sentiments, though progress has been made towards a freer, more open society.

The sentimental, right-leaning political poetry is quite common among older Ghanaian poets, and I’m sure we will meet more of these in the coming weeks.

Till next week, continue to write great poetry. You just might get a review!

Current Thoughts On Ghanaian Poetry

Hello all!

I have observed from a distance the state of Ghanaian poetry as it comes down to me. Obviously my remarks may be subjective, and I risk hubris in taking this stance, and making this decision. Nonetheless, I have decided to embark on a project that will seek to sample the very best (subjective) of Ghanaian poetry. By doing this, I hope to contribute to the education of our producers of poetry, as well as add some new flavour to what the world already knows and appreciates.

By Ghanaian poetry, I mean poetry writing by Ghanaians. While this may seem to be a trivial addiction to the literary scape of the country, I hope to cover much more than just idle words and rhyme. This project will seek to extract the essence of Ghana’s poetic thought to present to the rest of the world.

As a matter of principle, I may not feature poets whom I know personally, but that may change, depending on the initial response and my own capacity to interact with poets.

This will be my first documented foray into poetic criticism. I encourage you to support me constructively.

Till when I begin posting once more, keep reading and writing good poetry.

Quick Note On: Good Grammar

It is this simple, my dear poets. However your poem mangles meaning out of words, keep the grammar correct. There is no excuse for that.

Over the months reading the works of budding poets (mainly from Ghana, but increasingly from other countries) I have come to notice the lack of respect for good grammar in their work. Typographical errors are pardonable to an extent, as are odd constructions that sound poetic. Poetry is more about innovation than most other literary art forms. Leaving the article out in a line where it will make the thought more “rational” and less of a pain to read is unpardonable. In short, to write good English poetry, you must have (or learn) a great command of the English language. I believe this goes well for all other natural languages. My focus here is on English poetry because that is what I read and write.

Thank God for the age of spell checkers and electronic dictionaries. Trying to ensure correctness in a piece does not (and will not, I can swear) kill you, nor your muse.

These are the little things that make our poetry outstanding, or downright heartbreaking.

If you are a poet reading this, never hand out a piece without first checking for such errors. If you are a reader, and you share in my plight, educate your favorite living poets.

Without some effective quality control, this art will be watered-down and robbed of its great value.

Till then, keep reading and writing good poetry.

Political Poetry

Poetry and Politics The last month have seen great political changes sweeping across the world.  Events such as these often inspire high feelings and ideals in most minds, including that of the poet.

Like any other worthwhile form of expression, poets have long used poems to a political effect,  whether it is the appeasing of kings and general, the praising of warlords famous and infamous, or the damning of dictators. Poets such as Shelley were often controversial in their more conservative times.  His timeless Masque of Anarchy was then an apt reply following the Peterloo Massacre, and still resonates with keen pertinence in this day. Not unexpected were the many poetic responses to the so-called “Arab Spring” on various sites (and many more books and scraps of paper)  are a testament to the power of poems and poetic language to bring to the fore of our minds the voice of the soul that yearns whatever change it seeks.

Poems, by their nature of being more than just words and meaning, (and this should be the same for all poetic writing)  have that power to evoke higher sensations that churn the depths of ourselves. A poem with a political voice can often be the most desputed of works. Most poets betray their heartfelt views in matters that often divide  or unite large swathes of people. With the poetic voice the poem transforms the tools it uses to effectively communicate the deep feelings of a person, and uses them to petition,  or warn, or shame whatever cause it supports of hopes to defeat.

It is not unexpected that in the oppressive regimes of Communist Russia, the pre-independence South African government, poets were often imprisoned or exiled because of their verse. Oscar Wilde, though not openly protesting against the government of his day, tells us volumes with the trials of his life and his love, of the tratment with homosexuals in his time. Often the turbulent life of a poet, take Lord Byron for a good example, does give us a subtly clear picture of the politics of their day, or how they related to the politics then.  Others of more stable ways, though beset with personal tragedy, and in this case I refer to Lord Tennyson, let us into another aspect of politics: where superficial calm is worn over the poet,  and the Kingdom’s faces, masking the internal turmoil of the loss of the dearly loved one, and a needlessly costly war.

I have recently taken off my indifference towards political events, and written some lines about what I feel about them.  I will provide links to a few of them, and others that I feel dearly about. Till later, keep reading and writing. Links:  The Black Valley, written in response to a BBC report on the Georgian village of Uravi The Ash poem , in response to the ash clouds that plagued the airline industry for a while.