A Prescription of Poetry

If you don’t read poetry, you’re seriously missing out. I understand the stigma: poetry is pretentious; it’s school stuff; it’s irrelevant, garbled nonsense by writers who can’t quite hack a novel. I get you: I still wake up in cold sweats with nightmares of unseen poems at GCSE, still shudder a little when I think back to grappling with Milton as a fresher, still worry that I’ve shot myself in the foot choosing poetry modules for next year. But you know what? I’ve discovered that poetry can cure a number of minor maladies, and now I’m not looking back.

You might be dying to start the summer’s bestsellers, but first let me tell you this: a poem is like a novel, but with less commitment and more immediate satisfaction. Poetry is for the bored, the frustrated, the love-struck, the heart-broken, the literature student and the mathematician. Contrary to popular belief, poetry does not require expert analytical skills or even, really, your full attention; I find you can let the words wash over you in bliss without getting too hung up on meaning.

A poem is like a novel, but with less commitment and more immediate satisfaction

So, let me put on the guise of literary doctor, and prescribe you some no-nonsense poetry to change your preconceptions and help you face life’s woes.

Want to escape the horrors of impending adulthood? I recommend some Lewis Carroll. Read “Jabberwocky” and bask in its sheer ridiculousness; it’s almost enough for you to return to your childhood and forget all that very adult debt you’re in.

Sick of burying your head in textbooks, or being crushed by the weight of your 19^th Century reading list? Introducing Lemn Sissay: the king of short, instantly gratifying poems. Try out “Love Song”, “Flowers in the Kitchen” and “Going Places”. Read for beautiful language and little gems of inspiration such as “I think I’ll paint roads on my front room walls to convince myself I’m going places”.

Give it a read, have a bit of a cry. It’s all very cathartic.

Already bored of your summer holidays, your brain turning to mush from too much daytime telly? Let me hit you with some T. S. Eliot. For something mentally stimulating, have a read through “The Waste Land” (don’t expect to understand it all, that’s kind of the point). For something more relaxed but still linguistically rich, take a look at “Preludes” and “Rhapsody on a Windy Night”.

Finally, if you just want a little bit of beautiful writing, perhaps to cleanse your soul after a messy night out, try Allen Ginsberg’s “Song”. I defy you not to feel something from this. It’s a poem so raw and gorgeous that I can’t bear to analyse it. Give it a read, have a bit of a cry. It’s all very cathartic.

Not all poetry is a slog. Read a poem. Feel good.

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