Voices for verses
Do you sometimes wonder at our poets’ voices,
When reading verse they change
And sound like William Butler Yeats?
Do you wonder what becomes
Of normal voices when they read
A few simple lines of poetry?
It just seems we drop a tone, go on and on
Sounding like a walrus or a foghorn
Like a singer with a single note.
Why this tone as if in schoolrooms
Adult poets wrestle with their larynx
And everything can sound surreal?
Is it the effort of the shy one
Projecting to the back of room?
Should the poet hide in the corner?
Is it true that poetry now
Is often better read than heard?
Like the small child who’s better seen?
Five different readers, five distinct voices
We each hear in our minds ear,
Like the Mass in Latin liturgy?
Have we become a race of readers?
Is our effort to declaim the verses
Sounding strangely unnatural?
Should we celebrate the voice we hear
In our inner ear, not publicly?
Retain the veil, protect our privacy?
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