Hot

Poem:Hot

 

It’s too hot to read

It’s too hot to write

It’s too hot to swat the mosquito

that has every intention to bite

In this heat what brings me sheer delight

Is when I think of what you say

For longer I wish that you could stay

You give it all you’ve got

My fire is stoked

And I find YOU very hot

Review: Hot

This, to me sounds like the poet is no way in the mood to be celebrating the summer. What a shame as here in the U.K, the winter months can indeed be punishing and appear never ending. I’m not making it up. You may think that we don’t get it that bad if we were to compare ourselves with other countries in Europe where it’s proper shivery and teeth chattering-ly cold with the snow. I have lived here a mighty long time. I have experienced and have spoken to other ashen-faced cold natives (It’s an aesthetic of sorts I suppose) but I do know of what I speak. What makes it worse is that some dimly lit ‘bright spark thought it was a good idea to turn the clocks back by an hour and it’s been kept like that for many years. There’s no going back or turning back (oh, the irony!) Day’s do indeed get darker earlier. I’ll never understand but I’ve heard it’s got something to do with farmers. Hmm? Well, I do like chickens and eggs, who doesn’t eh? Yum and all that. (and I don’t care what came first!) Would there be fewer of both if the clocks did not go back? (many stories for many other times) Think about it; those long cold and grey evenings where folk are donned in their woolly hats, big coats and talk about how they wish for the sun to make an appearance but when the sun with its heat does show up it’s interfering with the poet’s equilibrium and day to day life. How rude of it but the mornings are indeed lighter, (when the sky isn’t filled with clouds that is). With more light, it is easier for some to find… inspiration, the false teeth, the false eyelashes, and the false hopes on a long list contained within a notebook. Oh, I apologise dear reader. It appears I’m leading you on to a bit of a downer here and getting a ‘tad’ cynical at the idea of making lists. Again, I’m sorry. Ticking items off from a list does indeed offer a sense of satisfaction. Yipdee doo etc. Along with the ‘false’ items, of course the very real, and not at all false reading glasses can be easily found too, if there’s more light in the morning (That extra hour eh?) The early bird is indeed helped to catch ‘that worm’  and one is then able to read that said list, Hmm. I think I’ve changed my mind about the time thing. It’s actually, (dare I say it) a good thing that the clocks go back by an hour. Is the poet here in the U.K? Could it be that the poet is in another country with more warmer climes and fewer crimes? Have they decided to go to the dessert perhaps? To the ‘fashionable’ low crime rate and tax free hub that is Dubai perhaps? OR it may well be they’re on their own home turf and they are experiencing a heatwave?

Unexpected hot weather and heatwaves are indeed ‘not very nice’ (I’m being polite when I say this). A poet not being able to read or write? Come off it! It’s unheard of. It goes against one of the deepest of all natural laws. How does the poet cope? What does he or she say or do? Hmm ‘Thinks’ that’s what! I’ve never seen or known of anyone to have pearls of sweat cascade down from their forehead to their toes because of so much thinking activity. (I may be wrong)

Back to the poem, Mosquito’s the microscopic, bloodthirsty whizzing monsters, Yuk! To attempt to swat them? Equally yuk and a faff!

The poet is having a nasty time here but there is a glimmer of hope where someone has appeared and has caught the poet’s attention.

This person sounds very appealing and charismatic. They are able to take the poet’s mind away from the hideous heat of the summer day. Could they be a performer perhaps? A comedian? A singer?  A musician? A storyteller? or maybe an actor or even a poet too? I am convinced that it’s someone with a confident, cool and captivating demeanour. It could well be any of these and they could be cute too but I’m getting a feeling that it’s someone with ‘strong presence’ The person has connected with the poet. It’s like the poem is saying a huge thank you. Wow! What an amazing compliment! I’d be over the moon if someone thanked me for something with a song or with a rhyming verse or two?

To find someone ‘hot’ is to find them attractive. Words are powerful and delivery of those words and by whom is just as powerful. Art is indeed a strong force. It acknowledges our existence and connects with us. I’ve enjoyed reading the rhyming of ‘hot with swat’  ‘write, bite and delight. Great use of the word ‘hot’ to describe the excessive heat of a summer’s day but also to demonstrate admiration for a person. I get what the poet is saying here. I think that I find the poet hot and cool in equal measure. A petite pleasure to read ‘Hot’ is a very ‘cool’ little poem.