Clive James Poetry

 I always loved to listen to Clive James. His dry wit & delivery always made me laugh. To have that gift of facility with words & ability to observe the lunacy of life & see the funny side is rare. I didn't know that he was a poet, or that he was terminally ill. He has Emphysema & Leukemia.

http://www.clivejames.com/poetry/sentenced

His poetry speaks to me because we are of the same generation.  We are both in the end game of life, although he is hopefully a lot closer than me, barring accidents. It is brave to write so corruscatingly about oneself when the days are numbered. It is brave to look at the failings of ones life & actions & lay them bare for the world to see. The world will see them because he is so famous & so many people follow his every word.

I think it is wonderful that famous people like James & Terry Pratchett, also of my generation, can chart their demise. Pratchett has Alzheimers. This era of instant & worldwide communication means that the voice of the elderly can be heard in a way that it never has been before. Even nonentities like me can blog about their path to oblivion.

The voice of experience is important, even if most of us are invisible. We do have something to say which is relevant. We have seen the repeating cycles of mistakes in world politics & the microcosmic world of family & friends.

We do know. We can share that knowledge. But only if someone listens.