Sarah’s poems capture a distinct kind of adult loneliness and also a continual sense of wonder despite being disappointed by the world. This one was so full of vivid imagery and reminiscent of days before technology took over our lives.
"We are employing a buddy system now. Every day is a field trip to the Adulthood Museum and we don't go home until everyone has been accounted for. " 💚
The Minister of Loneliness has abolished email. He is installing tin cans to every windowsill, With a piece of string to someone else's window. Not several, just one. Each person of course does not need a lot of people to speak to, just the one. But the one must be reliable. Must be available when needed - We are employing a buddy system now. Every day is a field trip to the adulthood museum, and we don't go home until everyone has been accounted for. The way you find your buddy Is a nationwide game of guess who Where you sing the song that is always stuck in your head, Describe the movie you can't get through without crying, The hardest you've ever laughed, The outfit you wished you could pull off, And the only person who can spot you is the one you are assigned. All of Japan is a ball of string now The economy has ground to a halt, Productivity is entirely impossible; Sometimes you go to talk into the tin can on your window and a knot in the string accidentally gives you someone else's conversation The fading fabric of someone else's loneliness evaporating into the air between buildings You are allowed to eavesdrop, but so is everyone else. The minister of loneliness has moved all kindergartens to the ground floor of elderly assisted living homes There are daily story hours, animal shelters across the street. The Minister of Loneliness has not abolished Valentine's Day, But has instituted a nationwide "bring enough for the class regulation" and nobody goes home empty-handed.The Minister of Loneliness has prescribed therapy for everyone - Daily walks through the many gardens, Opportunities for meditation by a brook, In the rain, under falling blossoms, or along a snowy riverbank depending on the season. He has commissioned musicians and actors and poets To create concerts and radio plays and poetry readings To be pumped across the nodded tin cans radio lines every evening. When you order dinner for one The person who delivers it arrives with an appropriate ability and comfort level dance instruction video and two hours to spare. Grieving is encouraged and art-making is rampant, but Because of the knots, sometimes when you are expecting a visit form a grief counsellor, the dance partner food delivery arrives instead. Sometimes they are the same person. The minister of loneliness isn't tired, he is the most popular man in the country. He has a crush on a middle school teacher across town And everyone eavesdrops to hear the way he stumbles when she answers, Everyone is on the edge of their seats, Everyone forgets about dying because they can't wait to see what happens next, Everyone has opinions. The minister has to start a hotline where people can call in to tell him their thoughts The tin cans rattle nonstop, The minister is grateful for the advice but is nervous his crush will hear the commotion. He is nervous she prefers quiet But he does not know for sure yet, He does not know what she is thinking, or how she prefers her tea, or whether she likes to walk in the rain But he likes wondering When no-one is paying attention When the windowsills are quiet Late at night awake He does like to wonder...
Sometimes that’s really all we need. 1 string connecting two cans-someone who can spot you in the largest of crowds and can be exactly what you need, whenever you need them to be that thing. And even on the days when they fall short, they don’t stop wondering how to ensure that the next time they don’t. And some days, you have to be that for yourself. Ah Sarah. 🥹
I'm losing a loved one today. My heart feels the years Emotions, grieving started She will always be with us Her love endures passing Nov.4th, 2022 And I found some catharsis hearing this by Sarah. There are connections whether we know each other. We share so much humanity.
My heart goes out to you Rick. All this grief you feel now is a testament of love. I'm thinking of you, whoever you are and wherever you are. Sending hugs
Thank you so much for publishing this online. I heard this poem when Sarah performed online during the pandemic and it was my absolute favourite. I'm so happy I can now share it with all of my friends!
The best part of the poem is When she started talking about the tin can and the string. From then on the poem was very very good! Beautiful poem. Therapy for everyone. That was really good! I think the really best part is the man stumbling.
I love the different ways of thinking of 'minister' as well. I first thought of it as politician (Prime Minister, Minister of Education, etc) but then thought about religion, and how it cognates with administer. Ooft this is just such a clever poem.
I like this; it somehow makes me think of George Orwell's 1984, one of my favorite books. The "Minister of Loneliness" reminds me of the "Ministry of Truth," which controls news, education, entertainment, and the fine arts in Orwell's "Oceania." The poet Sarah Kay appears to be speaking in "newspeak" from Orwell's book.
How many times can a person fall in love with another? If Sarah Kay was from here, I would add her to the list of my sisters and brothers, introduce her to my mother and get to call her ours. A sister from another mother. Her pen drips Magic. May be we should have a chance to create an online extended family of all those beautiful souls in the world that inspire us and then we get to meet once in a while and be awed.
I love her poetry, it’s inspirational, I always thought poetry had to rhyme like dr suess or shel Silverstein or like Emily Dickinson..some of this is complex but I kind of just enjoy creative writing that’s easy to understand
Idk if anyone can relate to this but I’m on the autism spectrum and it brings a certain kind of loneliness where you’re constantly masking, having major difficulty making eye contact, etc and it just makes you feel further away from making deeper connections
....but what if....? he just wants you to hold his hand for a minute....what if he hears your voice and tears well up almost instant from just a few seconds of your voice alone....what if, he doesn't wanna play switch-board operator with your ears or eyes or even your heart.... what if he'd rather earn it...what if he'd rather die saying that.... then have you pretend for a few minutes for him.... what if it's that harsh inside of him.... where you are never there, but always in secret, in shadow's, in silence, innocuous stuck to his every everything but he's having trouble smiling authentic.... from working so hard at keeping you smiling.... authentic.... what if he misses you like a long lost lover misses a kiss.... but it's not you exactly, it's every switchboard circuit plug, unplugged and plugged back in elsewhere.... what if he's no where and he knows it he could even pin point the exact spot on any map in any language from any year non of which you are next to him.... telling him it's ok.... telling him you love him.... telling him he doesn't need to be everyone's compass anymore.... telling him it's ok if he doesn't understand everyone's metaphor right now.... and then, right now.... and then right now.... telling him.... it doesn't have to be a sad day cuz this isn't the day where they tell you when your sad... when you already knew that... when you already are that... when you don't wanna feel lonely anymore because they are here for you... holding you and me... and us... deciding that hate and force and ridicule doesn't fix anything... especially, for, a ghost...❤"
Oh, the snark. One of the wonderful things of this ego is that we hate being wrong. To find a way to dismiss an idea, to reduce it to something simple (and universal), is bruising. We are complex and unattached, incapable of needs or needing instruction. We don't bond by our need for food or connect by our love of proximity or excitement. We don't learn to appreciate by randomly assigned "cans," we are deliberate and omnipotent. We are rational and there is no animal here. Only a mind (and ego). So, we cannot see the fractures. That perhaps cutting the music program affected the appreciation of music (That that turn of phrase has deep roots in my father's past and his need, and ability, to tell a story). And perhaps we need to learn how to crawl out of loneliness because someone only taught us how to walk in rationality. That my compassion is knowing the roots of this lie in the loss of the family. And that comes with no PhD or philosophical underpinning. It didn't come with a political ideology. It's the outsourcing, and streamlining, of parenting. That's the cause of the Minister. And, to poke fun at it, as an instructor of poetry in your past, might be the cruelest bullying I know. (Or largest ego).
Spoken word poetry has stagnated. Since 2000, poets have increasingly recycled the same values and beliefs, the same reading style, continually pandering and virtue signaling. This is poetry that strings together cliches for the lowest common denominator, effectively making it inoffensive and akin to a pastiche of feel-good stock phrases. Essentially, it's a pep rally for sentimentality, offering nothing new by playing the identity politics card repetitively. Such content has diluted the art form to the level of kindergarten entertainment or a long Hallmark card-bad poetry that risks nothing and appeals to those who know nothing about the craft. Alarmingly, this decline into mere sentimentality and recycled themes has become the norm, and no one seems to care.
I appreciate the dedication to poetry and the arts the length of your comment suggests. I have to wonder if you happened to watch this particular poem though? I ask because on this particular poem your comment feel a a little like you may be employing some "recycled... values and beliefs... pandering and virtue signaling". This poem (and poet) may be sentimental and even inoffensive but it sure has nothing to do with identity politics. Sarah Kay in particular has also done so much to champion the art form of poetry and to uplift and educate young people that I suspect if you learned a little more about her work you might find a suprising ally and a champion for your own projected values. Cheers and best of luck!
Sarah’s poems capture a distinct kind of adult loneliness and also a continual sense of wonder despite being disappointed by the world. This one was so full of vivid imagery and reminiscent of days before technology took over our lives.
"We are employing a buddy system now. Every day is a field trip to the Adulthood Museum and we don't go home until everyone has been accounted for. " 💚
Yes, you were listening
@@palestar828 haha
I like how he goes from 'The Minister of Loneliness' to just 'The Minister' towards the end.
I could listen to her all day
Sarah Kay consistently delivers me gifts I did not know I needed
there are no words, no poems in this world to describe how much I love Sarah Kay. Thank you, thank you, thank you from the heart of hearts!
The Minister of Loneliness has abolished email.
He is installing tin cans to every windowsill,
With a piece of string to someone else's window.
Not several, just one.
Each person of course does not need a lot of people to speak to, just the one.
But the one must be reliable. Must be available when needed -
We are employing a buddy system now.
Every day is a field trip to the adulthood museum, and we don't go home until everyone has been accounted for.
The way you find your buddy
Is a nationwide game of guess who
Where you sing the song that is always stuck in your head,
Describe the movie you can't get through without crying,
The hardest you've ever laughed,
The outfit you wished you could pull off,
And the only person who can spot you is the one you are assigned.
All of Japan is a ball of string now
The economy has ground to a halt,
Productivity is entirely impossible;
Sometimes you go to talk into the tin can on your window and a knot in the string accidentally gives you someone else's conversation
The fading fabric of someone else's loneliness evaporating into the air between buildings
You are allowed to eavesdrop, but so is everyone else.
The minister of loneliness has moved all kindergartens to the ground floor of elderly assisted living homes
There are daily story hours, animal shelters across the street.
The Minister of Loneliness has not abolished Valentine's Day,
But has instituted a nationwide "bring enough for the class regulation" and nobody goes home empty-handed.The Minister of Loneliness has prescribed therapy for everyone -
Daily walks through the many gardens,
Opportunities for meditation by a brook,
In the rain, under falling blossoms, or along a snowy riverbank depending on the season.
He has commissioned musicians and actors and poets
To create concerts and radio plays and poetry readings
To be pumped across the nodded tin cans radio lines every evening.
When you order dinner for one
The person who delivers it arrives with an appropriate ability and comfort level dance instruction video and two hours to spare.
Grieving is encouraged and art-making is rampant, but
Because of the knots, sometimes when you are expecting a visit form a grief counsellor, the dance partner food delivery arrives instead.
Sometimes they are the same person.
The minister of loneliness isn't tired, he is the most popular man in the country.
He has a crush on a middle school teacher across town
And everyone eavesdrops to hear the way he stumbles when she answers,
Everyone is on the edge of their seats,
Everyone forgets about dying because they can't wait to see what happens next,
Everyone has opinions.
The minister has to start a hotline where people can call in to tell him their thoughts
The tin cans rattle nonstop,
The minister is grateful for the advice but is nervous his crush will hear the commotion.
He is nervous she prefers quiet
But he does not know for sure yet,
He does not know what she is thinking, or how she prefers her tea, or whether she likes to walk in the rain
But he likes wondering
When no-one is paying attention
When the windowsills are quiet
Late at night awake
He does like to wonder...
The first part is perfect ❤
Thankyou so much!!!!!❤
My favourite poet in the world hits a home run again! Beautiful words. ❤. Now excuse me I’m off to find my tin can!
Wow… the way The Minister works tirelessly to end loneliness… just to end up alone
Amazing
I’m sitting at work now by myself feeling so lonely and then this pops up. Thanks Sarah it’s been a rough week.
Literally cried through it. Oh Lord! Thank God for people who comfort
Sometimes that’s really all we need. 1 string connecting two cans-someone who can spot you in the largest of crowds and can be exactly what you need, whenever you need them to be that thing. And even on the days when they fall short, they don’t stop wondering how to ensure that the next time they don’t. And some days, you have to be that for yourself.
Ah Sarah. 🥹
I'm losing a loved one today.
My heart feels the years
Emotions, grieving started
She will always be with us
Her love endures passing
Nov.4th, 2022
And I found some catharsis hearing this by Sarah. There are connections whether we know each other. We share so much humanity.
My heart goes out to you Rick. All this grief you feel now is a testament of love. I'm thinking of you, whoever you are and wherever you are. Sending hugs
“everyone forgets about dying because they can’t wait to see what happens next” 🥹
…can’t see for tears, Sarah…
…for the sheer joy of the New World you paint…
…bring it on!…
…✨Shine On, beautiful woman, Shine On✨…
Thank you so much for publishing this online. I heard this poem when Sarah performed online during the pandemic and it was my absolute favourite. I'm so happy I can now share it with all of my friends!
I don’t think this is just a poem. I believe that the UK actually has appointed a Minister of Loneliness for real.
Sarah's words inject wonder and grace back into all that touch them. Appreciate this so much
Hello, can we be friends, I live in Austin Texas, what about you dear!!!!
This is WONDERFUL, Sarah Kay!
I'm going through a lot but listening to her gives me a moment of peace
we are so glad this provides some relief for you!!! That's what we're here for ❤️
I love Sarah Kay’s poems and how she performs them! ❤
Hello, can we be friends, I live in Austin Texas, what about you dear!!!!
"you are allowed to eavesdrop... but so is everyone else"
The best part of the poem is When she started talking about the tin can and the string. From then on the poem was very very good! Beautiful poem. Therapy for everyone. That was really good! I think the really best part is the man stumbling.
Sarah is one of my favorite poets
I watched the video laughing while cry. Thanks! It helped me feel better.
why is this so good it makes my heart ache
Sarah is the reason why I fell in love with Poetry♥
As a poet who uses a different style, I enjoyed this very much. Thank you for this.
She is so good at expressing herself
this might be my new favourite poem of hers
this sounds hopeful, i love you all, you are all amazing
I love the different ways of thinking of 'minister' as well. I first thought of it as politician (Prime Minister, Minister of Education, etc) but then thought about religion, and how it cognates with administer. Ooft this is just such a clever poem.
This is so comforting. Sarah always has my heart ❤️
Hello, can we be friends, I live in Austin Texas, what about you dear!!!!
Such a heartwarming poem!
Sarah doesn’t miss😔❤️
The ever beautiful Sarah Kay
Sarah Kay hits different
I like this; it somehow makes me think of George Orwell's 1984, one of my favorite books. The "Minister of Loneliness" reminds me of the "Ministry of Truth," which controls news, education, entertainment, and the fine arts in Orwell's "Oceania." The poet Sarah Kay appears to be speaking in "newspeak" from Orwell's book.
How many times can a person fall in love with another? If Sarah Kay was from here, I would add her to the list of my sisters and brothers, introduce her to my mother and get to call her ours. A sister from another mother. Her pen drips Magic. May be we should have a chance to create an online extended family of all those beautiful souls in the world that inspire us and then we get to meet once in a while and be awed.
Consider this page home to some beautiful souls :)
I love this so much. Sarah's words are beautiful
Thanks for the metaphoric painting of a picture within the previously blank canvas of my mind😊(thumbs-up)
FINALLY A NEW ONE AFTER YEARS
I love this poem!
This is my favorite
Made me breakdown idk what to say this is so beyond beautiful 🖤🌻
I love her poetry, it’s inspirational, I always thought poetry had to rhyme like dr suess or shel Silverstein or like Emily Dickinson..some of this is complex but I kind of just enjoy creative writing that’s easy to understand
WOW
amazing poem
Ohh Sarahh! This is so beautiful. ✨
Wouldn’t it be wonderful if that was the world we lived in? 😢
She should be the next U.S. poet laureate.
Nice poem.
I see my reflection perfectly! missin
Idk if anyone can relate to this but I’m on the autism spectrum and it brings a certain kind of loneliness where you’re constantly masking, having major difficulty making eye contact, etc and it just makes you feel further away from making deeper connections
Nice poem 👏👏
Love this
Happy Spoken word 🥲
We don't need a lot of people to talk to, just one
Hello, how are you doing 😊😊😊
Ahh my heart ❤❤
Tin can buddy, I'm getting quite impatient on the wait for you to turn up at the window sill🤧
This was amazing 🙌👏👏👏
you can be a poet and never make it nowhere
....but what if....?
he just wants you to hold his hand for a minute....what if he hears your voice and tears well up almost instant from just a few seconds of your voice alone....what if, he doesn't wanna play switch-board operator with your ears or eyes or even your heart.... what if he'd rather earn it...what if he'd rather die saying that.... then have you pretend for a few minutes for him.... what if it's that harsh inside of him.... where you are never there, but always in secret, in shadow's, in silence, innocuous stuck to his every everything but he's having trouble smiling authentic.... from working so hard at keeping you smiling....
authentic....
what if he misses you like a long lost lover misses a kiss.... but it's not you exactly, it's every switchboard circuit plug, unplugged and plugged back in elsewhere.... what if he's no where and he knows it he could even pin point the exact spot on any map in any language from any year non of which you are next to him.... telling him it's ok.... telling him you love him.... telling him he doesn't need to be everyone's compass anymore.... telling him it's ok if he doesn't understand everyone's metaphor right now.... and then, right now.... and then right now....
telling him.... it doesn't have to be a sad day cuz this isn't the day where they tell you when your sad... when you already knew that... when you already are that... when you don't wanna feel lonely anymore because they are here for you... holding you and me... and us... deciding that hate and force and ridicule doesn't
fix
anything...
especially, for,
a ghost...❤"
Wooooo
❤️
I didn’t completely understand this, can anyone explain?
Is this not just prose with pauses?
💔
Oh, the snark.
One of the wonderful things of this ego is that we hate being wrong. To find a way to dismiss an idea, to reduce it to something simple (and universal), is bruising. We are complex and unattached, incapable of needs or needing instruction. We don't bond by our need for food or connect by our love of proximity or excitement. We don't learn to appreciate by randomly assigned "cans," we are deliberate and omnipotent. We are rational and there is no animal here.
Only a mind (and ego).
So, we cannot see the fractures. That perhaps cutting the music program affected the appreciation of music (That that turn of phrase has deep roots in my father's past and his need, and ability, to tell a story).
And perhaps we need to learn how to crawl out of loneliness because someone only taught us how to walk in rationality. That my compassion is knowing the roots of this lie in the loss of the family. And that comes with no PhD or philosophical underpinning. It didn't come with a political ideology.
It's the outsourcing, and streamlining, of parenting. That's the cause of the Minister. And, to poke fun at it, as an instructor of poetry in your past, might be the cruelest bullying I know.
(Or largest ego).
Who needs a body 👂
Had to see if this was actually for real and not satire.
if your an artist aren't you supposed to be different from the norm?
there are no specific rules for being an artist
@@ButtonPoetry That’s why we remember some and forget the rest.
Салом
Spoken word poetry has stagnated. Since 2000, poets have increasingly recycled the same values and beliefs, the same reading style, continually pandering and virtue signaling. This is poetry that strings together cliches for the lowest common denominator, effectively making it inoffensive and akin to a pastiche of feel-good stock phrases. Essentially, it's a pep rally for sentimentality, offering nothing new by playing the identity politics card repetitively. Such content has diluted the art form to the level of kindergarten entertainment or a long Hallmark card-bad poetry that risks nothing and appeals to those who know nothing about the craft. Alarmingly, this decline into mere sentimentality and recycled themes has become the norm, and no one seems to care.
I appreciate the dedication to poetry and the arts the length of your comment suggests. I have to wonder if you happened to watch this particular poem though?
I ask because on this particular poem your comment feel a a little like you may be employing some "recycled... values and beliefs... pandering and virtue signaling".
This poem (and poet) may be sentimental and even inoffensive but it sure has nothing to do with identity politics.
Sarah Kay in particular has also done so much to champion the art form of poetry and to uplift and educate young people that I suspect if you learned a little more about her work you might find a suprising ally and a champion for your own projected values.
Cheers and best of luck!
So lucky to have seen this live 🥲❤️