The Poetry of Richard Gylgayton

Richard Gylgayton is a long time friend and associate with a bent for poetry, classical music and the more arcane aspects of computing. He is a certified network engineer, and has also received the sanction of Microsoft Almighty as a genuine service provider. (I have searched his forehead for some sign or mark of this imperial conditioning, but to no avail.)

Richard spends most of his free creative writing time exercising his own peculiar expression of the muse, and you can sample some of his poetry here, or visit his web site for a more in-depth tour of his world. Don’t miss his new book of verse, “Full Canvas” scheduled for publication later this summer!

You’ll find him at www.poetryrag.com A web site developed by the Writing Shop. You can read free selections and order the book there or sample Richard’s verse here as well. Like his style? Just click the ”ORDER BOOK” button to order this wonderful book of thougfhtful verse.

I have selected a poem entitled “Peculiar” to illustrate his style. It begins with a quietly sarcastic congratulatory remarks about our world, with  its disposable literature and the “steel cages” of our skyscrapers  built where ancient ruins or sacred sites once stood--perhaps a subtle mourning for the time when we were closer to myth and art in our lives.. The poem transitions into a veiled discussion of our modern media... “something exciting passing through a thick curtain of boredom...a buzz that never stops...that quells the Muse and lights phosphor windows...” Ah those ubiquitous television sets in every home in America!

Richard’s use of trite expressions like “rich and famous,” “walking wounded,” “captains of industry,” and “homes of America” fit neatly into a poem that is lamenting the cereal box culture we live in, bright, exciting, yet little more than clichés on cardboard as far as substance goes.

He talks about a veil that hides the faces of the dancers--a barrier to truth in some ways. And I suppose we are all the “walking wounded” in this Brave New World, dressed in the same cloth and visiting art and symbol only in our dreams. Is that a veiled reference to Keats’ Grecian Urn-- “a colored vase decorated with pastel satyrs”...? What is it that we seem to chase after so persistently in our culture, so tantalizingly near, yet never with in our grasp?

This sentiment reminds me a bit of “The world is too much with us, later and sooner, getting and spending, we lay waste our powers...”  In the last stanza I see Richard on the BART train, thinking about all of this on his way to work.  He tries mightily to build his own shimmering bridge to the truth, and it is sometimes very interesting to walk that bridge with him.

Richard is also an accomplished photographer. In fact, most of his creative energy is now focused on his photography. Check out his galleries HERE

The Muse