'Constructive Criticism'

That was not 'Constructive Criticism',

And prefixing a derogatory statement with

'Well, this is only my opinion, but...'

Does nothing to deduct from either its insult

Or the condescending tone with which it's said.

So before you take another breath,

Another step along that road to

Utter dismissal of all credibility,

Please, allow me to get something off my chest;

The fact that I don't earn a living from my work does not make me a failure,

The fact that no one pays me for my poetry does not make what I write a waste of time

Nor undermine the passion of my reading.

That fact that I'm not a headline name

Appearing on a festival stage

Does nothing to change

The tear in the eye or the smile on the face

Of people who read my words on the page

Or hear my performance,

Whether in a crowded bar,

A public park,

Or shouted on a street corner.

I'm always looking for an audience,

And whether or not there's money involved has never really been of great importance,

But I've met too many authors who won't even read an email

Or attend a free event if they suspect the organisers won't reward them,

And of course, building a plethora of contacts is important,

But if someone can't promote your work, is that really a reason to ignore them?

No, of course not,

But lately I've been hearing disillusionment from far too many corners;

Talented individuals abandoning their own artistic calling

When their confidence is shattered by comparisons to those who have established repertoires,

Personalised business cards, and thrive on crowds applauding,

Finding only intimidation when its inspiration they ought to be drawing.

Now I'm not placing blame, or claiming fame is something you should be ashamed of -

I'm known myself in certain circles, and not too proud to occasionally name drop -

But I never let my ego grown beyond the cause that all my work's in aid of.

I can help to shine a light on other writers, they're the ones I'll fan the flames of

And not be just another self-convicted critic they should cower in the shade of.

The way some people carry on, you'd think success was just a simple trade off -

You quit your job to concentrate on art, and it miraculously pays off.

Well I don't mean to undermine or else deride what you've achieved

But do you perceive how arrogant or ignorant it might just seem

To criticise the grind of nine to five when people left and right are getting laid off?

Just hoping they can stave off debt, afford to eat and keep a bed

And a roof over their heads to keep the rain off.

I'd love to get more bookings and attend a few more slams,

To storm the stage in spotlight to the cries of adoring fans,

But most of the time I'm working six or seven days a week

And try as I might, I don't have time to dedicate to poetry,

And so I write in snippets when opportunities arise -

Snatching a precious twenty minutes to try scribing out some lines,

I've chanted verses to myself while stacking shelves in isle five

And slaving late into the night after a fifteen hour shift when I'm convinced

I'm just another rhyming couplet shy of finally getting that last stanza right...

Packing poems in where they will fit around the rigmarole or real life.

Now, I know my own complaints may simply sound like sour grapes

From another 'up and comer' who never actually came,

Just another spark of promise that inevitable fades,

And like I said, I don't intend to rain on anyone's parade

But the world is a daunting place, growing ever more competitive

And everybody needs a helping hand to make a go of it,

And some of us, I'm sad to say, will never quite emerge,

Not having time to grow our passions or find room for choosing words.

So if you are one of those people who's had chance to hone their craft

I feel you've got an obligation to help others with their art;

To play a part in being better than those preening predecessors

Whose oppressive expectations try to stifle competition

By dismissing the ambitions of new undiscovered writers,

Hoping they'll retire, frightened by derisive criticism.

(But there's no reason to listen or keep giving them attention,
They're pretentious and offensive, out of touch an out of date,

And still debate the definition of what poetry should 'really be'

Instead of taking notice of the difference they could make.)

So let's create a new community, imbue a new philosophy,

Supportive positivity, not hostile animosity,

No condescending mockery, no critical hypocrisy,

And relish creativity with openness and honesty.

So if you feel the same as me, why not make this your policy?

Create for just creation's sake, and offer no apology

To those who'd use themselves as any measure of your quality

And estimate your statue based on gaining praise and salary.

I'd never dare to claim to be

Some kind of revolutionary writer,

Fighting righteous battles,

Rattling my sabre,

But I've never been afraid to raise a shout

For things I care about;

What good's a plan of action

If it never leaves the paper?

I'll continue heaping praise on any writers I appreciate,

Disseminate and share their work,

To give them the respect they're earned

And maybe have a chance to pass on anything I might have learned,

And try to help them thrive, and find the spotlight that their work deserves;

I had my time to shine,

And now I'm glad it's someone else's turn.