Trish,

I had captious as "Ready to find fault, or to take offence" when I wrote the
poem.
The people that I worked for then were very captious  IMO (well not just
IMO, quite a few others).

I have always been ambivalent about including the name of the city where it
was written and still feel ambivalent now. I would be interested in your
views. On the one hand it provides a stepping-stone for the reader and on
the other it risks making a cultural comment. I would like to think that the
poem would apply to any city and any job where the atmosphere is oppressive,
over-regulated, ruthless towards failure
and where a considerable degree of adaptation is required in order to fit
in. Literally this might then entail getting the lift to the top floor to
get a breath of fresh air during breaks, to have a few non-work related
ideas and maybe write a poem. This poem is based on two unspoken
assumptions, that we live in a very materialistic age and secondly that this
makes it difficult to have a poetic existence. Those assumptions are
refutable I know. Poetic is equated as "foolish" and distant from the
demands of the city. Nevertheless, the protagonist is able to fit in, better
than most perhaps, despite his impatience (sometimes) with the existence
that is expected of him. I say existence because conformity of behaviour may
not be enough.

But isn't it the case that anyone who has written enough poetry to develop a
sensibility towards what their poetry is about has to face the mismatch
between that sensibility and the place (in whatever country) where they must
earn a living? We can't all be professional poets or professors at
universities. Poetry can then be like a second existence enriched by the
first, and at times promoting survival despite it, but only tenuously
connected in practical terms, and probably not openly discussed. What does
that second existence contain? Depends on the person. But surely it doesn't
contain thoughts about how nice it would be everybody were more
materialistic.

What is interesting is that this poem and some others I have written should
be so opaque, even to my fellow poets. No doubt the fault is mine. In my
closeness to the subject I may have mistaken  the accidental for the
necessary, and hence incorporated material that was deeply felt or closely
observed but ultimately irrelevant and which distracted from the essential
message of the poem. However, it is also possible that a sensed awareness of
the imaginative space that may accompany all experiences is less common,
less valued perhaps, than I had thought.  I don't get that impression from
reading other people's poetry, but it is healthy for me to keep it in mind
as a possibility. This poem is also not helped by the reader having no idea
of who "you" is/ are. In a previous title I made it more explicit but that
title was too pompous and I had to get rid of it. Looks like a third is in
order. Any ideas? How about "Monologue to the minotaur". Sounds like the
protagonist has conjured up a persecuting figure from the past. Nah.....




Colin





----- Original Message -----
From: "Trish Harewood" <[log in to unmask]>
To: <[log in to unmask]>
Sent: Tuesday, March 18, 2003 5:02 PM
Subject: Re: newsub/labyrinth


Colin, what do you mean by 'captious' here?
curious, Trish
----- Original Message -----
From: "Colin dewar" <[log in to unmask]>
To: <[log in to unmask]>
Sent: Monday, March 17, 2003 5:08 PM
Subject: newsub/labyrinth


Labyrinth

Who would have thought
that one as foolish as me
could survive in the world you have made?
It is good I can be like you,
fit in so well
you do not recognise
beneath this business-suited façade,
I am alive in the labyrinth,
having hid my face
the better to mimic
every twist of your captious brain,
every action of your soldier's heart.
As the dandelion spreads its seeds,
I climb to the tops of your office blocks
to unfold my dreams.


Tokyo 1995

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