The Colour Purple (pt 1)

Warning…..Jenny Joseph

When I am an old woman I shall wear purple

with a red hat which doesn't go and doesn't suit me

and I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves

and satin sandals and say we've no money for butter

I shall sit down on the pavement when I'm tired

and gobble up examples in shops and press alarm bells

and run my stick along the public railings

and make up for the sobriety of my youth

I shall go out in my slippers in the rain

and pick flowers in other peoples gardens amd learn to spit

You can terrible shirts and grow more fat

and eat three pounds of sausages at a go

or only bread and pickle for a week

and hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes

But now we must have clothes that keep us dry

and pay our rent and not swear in the street

and set a good example to the children

We must have friends to dinner and read the papers 

But maybe I ought to practice a little now?

so people who know me are not too shocked and surprised

when suddenly I am old and start to wear purple

I first came across this poem at the age of 18, I found a book of modern verse on my mothers’ book shelf when I was 18 and still living at home. Obviously bored at the time, I flicked through the pages and the title of the poem jumped out at me so I read it and have never forgotten it, I still have that book over 30 years later.
This poem really struck a chord with me, it was as if the author had me in mind when she wrote it. I was a typical teenager but with way more than my fair share of attitude, the rebel without a cause. If I could be a pain in the proverbial to someone I went out of my way to be just that. I was very anti-establishment, very anti-authority and even as a child & teenager I knew that I would probably always be that way to some degree and the words of this poem just echoed my whole attitude.
Before finding this book I had no interest in poetry. My English teacher at high school was Mrs Mills. With her baggy cardigans, tweed skirt, woolly tights and sensible shoes she was obsessed with poetry. She foolishly thought she could engage a classroom of 15 year olds with the works of Byron, Shelley and Keats etc.  The woman was on a loser, especially with me. All it did was make me detest poetry and anything else even remotely connected to it, resulting in me sitting at the back of the class staring into space.
I didn’t want to be there in the first place but if I had to be then I wanted to be engaged with what I was supposed to be learning, I wanted to be entertained not induced into a coma like state by the works of Shakespeare and the like. I am sure I am not the only one of my generation who on leaving school did not appreciate the classics or any form of poetry due to the teachers they encountered during their school days. It is hoped that teachers now know how to hold their pupils attention by introducing them to material they can relate to.
What this book did give me as well as the entertaining poems, was the knowledge that not all poetry is dull, serious and heavy going. The written word in the form of poetry or prose can be fun, poems can be humorous, it can be relative to you even if it was not written specifically for you as in my case with this particular poem.
This poem concentrates on misbehaving when you are old but who says at what age is old and why wait, like the author says, why not start practising now, let people get used to the bad behaviour.  It is human nature to get used to things so by the time you are old, people will have stopped being shocked and then you can think of new things that they can disapprove of.  It will help to keep your mind active in your old age!
I also think that the subject of this poem is not just about misbehaving when you get older. I think it is saying that all too often society dictates that we live a certain way, behave in a certain way and are seen to be ‘normal’ but do we really have to conform? What is the worse that will happen if we don’t? If we choose to run our walking stick along the railings as she says in her poem, do we really care that people might shake their heads and tut?
As we all know we are only here for a relatively short time, do we really have to spend it always keeping ourselves in check in case others look on disapprovingly?
Even I, to my own disappointment, have moderated my behaviour and attitude as I have gotten older but in my head I have always been that old woman wearing purple and I think that maybe I am just waiting for when the time is right to give her free reign.