The cave dwellers II

18/10/2016 0 Comments

The cave dwellers II

Redundant words. Forever vanished.
A vocabulary of different meanings
proliferates with sights and sounds.
And signifiers of every kind
regarding worst enemy - weather.
Fluctuating fortunes…life itself
dependant on sun, sea and earth:
fearfully eyed and goddishly revered.
Generally speaking, words are unnecessary.
Loud. Inappropriate. Corrupt - Defunct.
Rather, grunts…purrs…clicks...gently
punctuate the still pure air - unscalding.
A language of signs and liquid faces
Subtle, almost psychic communication;
Imperceptible to the outsider.
Home crafted in glistening rock
The cave dwellers inhabit some other place.

*Dear reader, you may have ascertained by now that my ‘thing’ is working-class writing (and that I have a huge chip on my shoulder?) Social class has a way of permeating everything I think and do - unfortunately or otherwise.
It may come as no surprise then that this poem, ‘The Cave Dwellers’, apart from anything else, is actually an allegory about the underclass of contemporary British society.
'ugug agagug'

0 Comments

.Author

I recently completed an academic research project (MPhil) about working-class women’s autobiographies. Now I’m writing my own...

To cut a long story short:

My dad and both my grandads were coal miners. I was born in Coalville. I belong on this website.
I returned to education as a mature student: got a couple of A-levels, went to university; got a BA, an MA, a PhD, and an MPhil. It was not as easy as that. It was not as quick as that. But I did.
I have spent most of my adult-life studying something. Generally something to do with English literature: mainly something to do with working-class women. My MA is about Women and God – inspired by and emotively written through my experiences as a pupil at Catholic primary and secondary schools. My PhD and MPhil projects are about working-class women writers – inspired and emotively written through my experiences as a working-class woman in a materialistic and class-ridden society. When I was an undergraduate at university, there wasn’t a module about working-class writing. There just wasn't. I didn’t study any working-class texts. I just didn’t. I once gave a research paper about my PhD (ie: talking about my work) and I remember someone laughingly said, ‘Was there a recession in the 1980s? I must have missed that.’ That just about sums it up.
I have had no working-class peers. I found them in my reading and writing. In my reading and writing I found myself.

Welcome to my blog.
It's basically about me.It’s called ‘My Travel Blog’ (because I’m time travelling through my memories of the past). See what I did there?

YOUR CART

My blog