Being Beta

Exercises in the higher banter with One of 26. Elsewhere called 'poet of adland'. By a whipple-squeezer. Find out why being beta is the new alpha: betarish at googlemail dot com

Wednesday, December 22, 2010

Poetry: Toothbrush

So, a few weeks ago in class, somebody mentioned that Sylvia Plath had said that she had found it impossible to put a toothbrush in a poem. Now, while she didn't actually say that, what she did was interesting. To whit:

Now that I have attained, shall I say, a respectable age, and have had experiences, I feel much more interested in prose, in the novel. I feel that in a novel, for example, you can get in toothbrushes and all the paraphernalia that one finds in dally life, and I find this more difficult in poetry. Poetry, I feel, is a tyrannical discipline, you've got to go so far, so fast, in such a small space that you've just got to turn away all the peripherals. And I miss them! I'm a woman, I like my little Lares and Penates, I like trivia, and I find that in a novel I can get more of life, perhaps not such intense life, but certainly more of life, and so I've become very interested in novel writing as a result.

Naturally, I took this as a challenge. Results below.


Can you get a toothbrush in a poem?
Sylvia, I’ll give it a damn good go.
Encouraging dental health isn’t hokum,
hence the need for a toothbrush in a poem.
As peripherals go, this one’s wholesome;
and regular use will mean smiles of snow.
Can you get a toothbrush in a poem?
Sylvia, I’ll give it a damn good go.



Blogger Unknown said...

Toothbrush moulders in festering cup,
A tightly-rolled tube its neighbour,
Dried-out paste in the basin lays,
Pale, rigid hand on the bathroom tiles,
A hand long-passed but dead for days.

10:00 am  
Blogger BetaRish said...

Dark; I wasn't expecting that to go there.

10:03 am  

Post a Comment

Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]

<< Home