Poetry Review â QUOTIDIAN: Peter Ualrig Kennedy waxes enthusiastic over this robust and well crafted collection by Paul Waring.
Quotidian
Paul Waring
Yaffle Press
ISBN 978-1-913122-05-8
26pp ÂŁ6.50
The cover (by Lorna Faye Dunsire) of Quotidian is a gem â two miniature workmen in orange gear and hard hats are levering a life-size, to them, yellow paperclip into a gap in the pavement. And it may say âQuotidianâ on the cover, but these poems are by no means a run of the mill collection of day-to-day versifying. These satisfying poems each have a purpose â they work, like the men on the cover, towards an end, not perhaps with a paperclip, but with ideas.
Paul Waring employs a vigorous working vocabulary to illuminate his concepts, as in the opening poem âWater Storiesâ:
rain brought down in fathomless language
verbed as mizzle, sile or pelt; steeped fabric
of mountainside sheep or stubborn seagull
on chimney duty, wings batoned tight.
He wryly considers the âMan On A Trainâ:
I ponder his life and whatâs left of mine: an hour-
glass of days draining to retirement, and recall
the boy whose wandering eyes saw futures far
beyond small town horizons; then wonder
and following such deep reflection, he takes a high-spirited bounce away from the quotidian into âOf All The Thingsâ:
imagine me, Elvis
larger than life in Memphis
twitching lip and hips, hound
dog in shades on a Harley
Waring is certainly capable of varying the mood, just as in real life our days will dawn under a different sun each morning. In the poem âOn Bedsitsâ he employs an authentic imagery:
Three flights up
threadbare arthritic stairs
in damp stale air
a vase-less jumble
of nicotined furniture
sepia-tinted peeling walls
and clogged lungs of carpet.
He draws such a convincing picture of quotidian life in a bed-sit â âa one-bar electric fire / that eats fifty pence piecesâ that one knows he must have lived it himself (I have lived that life as a student, although in my time it was shillings not fifty pence pieces that ran the meter). And he must have had close experience of student parties. âIn Summer 1973â, in a series of couplets: âThen someone says Karenâs crying / in the bathroom because people are smoking and shagging / in the bedrooms.â Sounds familiar? Waring very much hits the nail here; he can also, in âA Long Walkâ, produce some pleasing metaphors, conjured from his Liverpool days:
The Irish Sea and Mersey meet with iron fists â
winter wind still slices through March days
The elegiac poem âMother Tongueâ becomes evocative of boyhood, and of âsomewhere we once / called homeâ, and falls to musing on a lost language âŠ
a door opens,
and sisters and brothers I never had unlock me
lid by lid to wander from cotton-clutched sleep.
Paul Waring is a true poet who uses his words carefully and concisely. He can give us, in one short sentence, at the same moment an image of the world, and a philosophy to cling to; his very last words in the book, from the poem âMouthâ are â⊠reminders that even on dead-still days / like this, a river always has something to say.â
Quotidian is a collection of ingenious and well crafted poems, worth anyoneâs while to read, and read again.
London Grip Poetry Review – Paul Waring
August 20, 2020
Poetry Review â QUOTIDIAN: Peter Ualrig Kennedy waxes enthusiastic over this robust and well crafted collection by Paul Waring.
The cover (by Lorna Faye Dunsire) of Quotidian is a gem â two miniature workmen in orange gear and hard hats are levering a life-size, to them, yellow paperclip into a gap in the pavement. And it may say âQuotidianâ on the cover, but these poems are by no means a run of the mill collection of day-to-day versifying. These satisfying poems each have a purpose â they work, like the men on the cover, towards an end, not perhaps with a paperclip, but with ideas.
Paul Waring employs a vigorous working vocabulary to illuminate his concepts, as in the opening poem âWater Storiesâ:
He wryly considers the âMan On A Trainâ:
and following such deep reflection, he takes a high-spirited bounce away from the quotidian into âOf All The Thingsâ:
imagine me, Elvis larger than life in Memphis twitching lip and hips, hound dog in shades on a HarleyWaring is certainly capable of varying the mood, just as in real life our days will dawn under a different sun each morning. In the poem âOn Bedsitsâ he employs an authentic imagery:
He draws such a convincing picture of quotidian life in a bed-sit â âa one-bar electric fire / that eats fifty pence piecesâ that one knows he must have lived it himself (I have lived that life as a student, although in my time it was shillings not fifty pence pieces that ran the meter). And he must have had close experience of student parties. âIn Summer 1973â, in a series of couplets: âThen someone says Karenâs crying / in the bathroom because people are smoking and shagging / in the bedrooms.â Sounds familiar? Waring very much hits the nail here; he can also, in âA Long Walkâ, produce some pleasing metaphors, conjured from his Liverpool days:
The elegiac poem âMother Tongueâ becomes evocative of boyhood, and of âsomewhere we once / called homeâ, and falls to musing on a lost language âŠ
Paul Waring is a true poet who uses his words carefully and concisely. He can give us, in one short sentence, at the same moment an image of the world, and a philosophy to cling to; his very last words in the book, from the poem âMouthâ are â⊠reminders that even on dead-still days / like this, a river always has something to say.â
Quotidian is a collection of ingenious and well crafted poems, worth anyoneâs while to read, and read again.