Thursday, 19 July 2012

Day 28: A Pint There

One of the consequences of being a poet, or even reading poetry, is you start to see comparisons everywhere between the unlikeliest things. The metaphor and simile technique is one which, once switched on, never stops working. And at times, the results can be quite funny, as Carol Ann Duffy notes here.

Poetry - Carol Ann Duffy

I couldn't see Guinness
and not envisage a nun;
a gun, a finger and thumb;
midges, blether, scribble, scrum.

A crescent moon, boomerang, smirk,
bone; or full, a shield, a stalker,
a stone. I couldn't see woods
for the names of trees - sycamore,
yew, birch, beech -

                                  or bees
without imagining music scored
on the air - nor pass a nun
without calling to mind a pint of one, stout,
untouched, on a bar at the Angelus.


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