Empathy in Literature

Alongside writing poetry, I am currently studying for a PhD at Nottingham University in Literary Linguistics (aka being really geeky about other people's writing).

My topic is empathy in literature - what is it that makes us feel real emotions (or not) for characters who don't really exist? I'm running a survey: if you have read (or listened to) any novel in the last three months, I would appreciate your response: www.aboutbooks.co.uk

Trespass

I should not know
that the grass that grows
on the other side of the barbed wire fence
really is more green.

I should not have been
to the top of the steepest field
before climbing down
on hands and heels.

And I should not have seen
the place, where in between
the rocks grow orchids, like a forest
of tiny, curling trees.

These are my trespasses.
Forgive me.


©2018 Lucy Peacock

This poem is from HILL: The story of one Derbyshire hill. Visit www.hillproject.uk for more details.

When karma fails at least I have the Smiths

If poetic justice
Worked properly,
Then vicious officials everywhere
Would get their share
Of misery.
Their lives would be ruled
By even pettier fools
Who fill them with dread.
They aren’t, but at least I have
The Queen is Dead

Or if karma was
Reality,
Then the bullies who tormented me
And made me lose sight of who I might be
Would live their lives
With less certainty,
And a lot more doubt.
They don’t, but at least I have
There is a Light that Never Goes Out.

And if karma was more
Than an initially appealing religious concept,
Then few would live in poverty except
Those who misuse their power over other people’s lives,
And for whom the word “elite” is an awful misnomer.
It isn’t, but at least I have
Girlfriend in a Coma.

After the Referendum

It was never a romance.
There was no
Loved up
Goose bumpy
Doe-eyed dance
That no-one else understood.
But you always seemed right for me,
Like no other country could.

Now, though, you've changed.
And your obsession with demons out there has awoken
Within you a monster.
And I am
Heartbroken.











© 2016 Lucy Peacock

Banner Poem

This poem was written in celebration of the banner-making activities of the Derbyshire Dales Labour Party Women's Forum. Our first banner is below: it may be only a banner, and a somewhat rustic one at that, but it was a true collaborative effort, and the start of something bigger.

We are the needle warriors
We weep, and therefore we sew.
We are the quiet revolutionaries,
Pouring our fury into the very
Stiches of the banners that we create,
And when we can, we’ll demonstrate,
And with our banners, we will be the voice
Of the powerless, the unprotected, and those without choice.
We are the needle warriors,
We weep, and therefore we sew.

It must be nice

It must be nice to know
That you’re better
And cleverer
And more deserving
Than "them"
And how easy it is
For you to condemn
Those people, who are all the same,
Because you know, of course,
That they’re to blame
For whatever it is that you believe is wrong.
But, though you feel that you belong
To the righteous few,
Remember, that to somebody somewhere,
You’re one of "them" too.




©2016 Lucy Peacock

Poetry by Committee

At the meeting, it was agreed
That, though there is no need,
The lines in this poem should rhyme.
Or at least they should scan,
If they can,
And if an extra-long line isn't needed for some reason or other.
And that it should be
A tight ball of words
To be unravelled at leisure,
Though loose enough
To give immediate pleasure.
But not so loose that the words begin
To
  Fall
    Out.
But the most important thing
Is that it should rhyme.







©2016 Lucy Peacock