My favourite lyric poet, Michael Dransfield, died when he was only 24. There are various stories about his death. One says that, after finally winning a long battle with heroin, he was given morphine for his injuries in a motorcycle accident and got hooked again. Another says he died from tetanus, acquired from a dirty needle. Like many of his readers, I discovered him posthumously.
My very favourite Dransfield poem, for its evocative beauty of language and its musicality, is Patricia’s Raga. (Note: There’s a misprint in the copy at this link. The phrase is ‘sarod and ‘tablas’, not ‘sarod and tables’! ) Nevertheless I don’t wish I had written it, because I wouldn’t want to be so well acquainted with addiction! Many of his other poems, brilliant though they are, speak of sadness and isolation; he tends to place himself as the outsider.
This little love poem, though, I think near perfect.
Pas de deux for lovers
Morning ought not
to be complex.
The sun is a seed
cast at dawn into the long
furrow of history.
To wake
and go
would be so simple.
Yet
how the
first light
makes gold her hair
upon my arm.
How then
shall I leave,
and where away to go. Day
There is a substantial collection of his poems here. Click on any of them to find treasures. Icarus, Ground Zero, July with her, July Poem, Love (dialogue) poem, Ryokan, Souvenir of Casino, Death as Triumph, To a lover going, O Genevieve sweet Genevieve... Oh heck, read them all!
Most of his books are on Amazon. I recommend the Collected Poems because then you get the lot. Fortunately for the readers he left behind, he was a prolific poet. I don't think he ever wrote a bad poem!
Most of his books are on Amazon. I recommend the Collected Poems because then you get the lot. Fortunately for the readers he left behind, he was a prolific poet. I don't think he ever wrote a bad poem!
Poems and photos used in ‘I Wish I’d Written
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