Clifton Gachagua

Clifton Gachagua (born 1987) is a Kenyan poet and novelist. Quotes That’s always a difficult question. I’m supposed to write for someone. I know that. But when I write, it simply happens. I’m not thinking about an audience. I’m not thinking about who will chance upon my writing. I’m thinking: this thing works, these symbols and sounds work and these other ones don’t. Before I think who I’m writing for I just want to make it right. And for now, as I figure out if I can write, I’m still figuring out what works and how it works. So, in a way, I’m first and foremost writing for myself. I think I’m still learning. I always write what comes to me. After I’m done, I can tell if it works for me. A month ago I read a poem on the Poetry Foundation website. It got to me. Right after that, I wrote a poem and posted it on my blog. I knew it was working because of the space I was in at the time. It’s not possible for me to control this space – although whiskey and vodka often helps – but once I’m there I know what works and what doesn’t. I have a poem I’m working on – it’s not working. I have laboured a lot on it but it’s just not working. A narrative poem. Book length. I want it to work so badly, maybe this is why it’s not working. It’s a witness poem, and I’m hoping I can do something more direct towards the labour of witnessing, something more ‘obvious’. And because I have a motive it feels like I have lost a voice. Because I have an audience in mind. As soon as I think about an audience I feel like I kill the genuine writer in me. Inhibitions come knocking. I have very low standards for myself with regard to aesthetics, so I’m more willing to forgive myself. This can be a good or bad thing. I also want to think I’m writing for writers who influenced me — all those dead poets and novelists. Yearning for their acceptance. It’s hard for me to imagine I write for a particular live being. Because then I’d stop writing. Even then, I still hope someone in the waking world will read me. Complete instants. I like that. I’m not sure what a complete instant is. I think it’s still about what I mentioned earlier — about it feeling right. But yes. Madman at Kilifi, in particular, is full of moments. Although I do write about moments they are never complete. That’s why I try to find meaning in questions and poems. Madman at Kilifi, the poem, came about because of this moment I had in Kilifi. I saw a madman. I was walking home with my lover. At night, in bed, I thought about the madman. I didn’t write about him or that instant until a year later. External links Category:Living people