Skip to main content

Poetry

So I'm going to talk about something I really don't know all that much about: poetry. I think it's because of the post Jan Worth-Nelson, author of Night Blind, put up on her blog a few days ago. It got me thinking about my own relationship with poetry and how that relationship developed, or more accurately, how it failed to develop.

I love words.

I love short stories and novels.

I love writing.

If you know me in real life or have followed this blog for any length of time, this should come as no surprise. Only someone who has a passion for the written word would spend hours and weeks and months of their lives attempting to create stories of their own. Only someone who has a passion for the unique kind of entertainment found in a book would admit to having a reading problem like some people have a drinking problem.

Yet, I've never liked poetry unless it could be found in books like Where the Sidewalk Ends. Oh, sure, there are random exceptions to this rule. I quite enjoy Edgar Allen Poe's The Raven. So much so that I find myself reciting the first couple of lines every now and again. There's also a poem about being a Christian that I quite enjoy.

But that's pretty much it. The intricacies of poetry escape me if they aren't telling me a story I can almost imagine as prose.

Why, though? Why would somone who professes to love language be turned off by poetry? It doesn't makes sense.

Well, I have a theory.

I'm basically blaming it my public school education. Although we were forced to read poetry by people like Keats and Byron, we never got into modern poetry. Not once that I can recall. While I understand the historical signifigance of the creation and publication of poems like an Ode on a Grecian Urn and She Walks in Beauty, these poems did not lure me into the world of poets and poetry.

What if my teachers would have brought in the art of poets like Margaret Atwood or any of the other people listed on famouspoetsandpoems.com. Mind you, I have no idea if any of these poets or their poetry would have changed my initial impression of poetry, but the possibility definitely exists. Perhaps one of them would have opened my eyes to the power and persuasion to be found in stanzas instead of paragraphs.

This realization has come about only because I've taken to attending open mics at local bookstores. It seems open mics draw poets more than prose writers. At first, I was a bit disappointed, but by the end of my first open mic session I found myself thinking long and hard on the political and social commentary to be found in the spoken word poetry I had heard. I also realized there were many talented people I may have never given a second thought to if I hadn't decided to sit in on one of those sessions.

Going back to the lack of exposure in the average public school system, I realize the type of poetry that may actually grab a teenager's attention likely wouldn't be allowed inside the classroom. Can you imagine a student taking home a poem that their parents found offensive or controversial? Or one that contains cursing or references to drugs and alcohol being read aloud in a high school classroom? Can you imagine them bringing in artists like those found on the SpokenWorks Inc website? I can already hear the public outcry.

Yet, by sticking to the safe and sanitary, are they creating a generation that has little to no exposure to a powerful form of expression? I certainly think so.

This, of course, means if I want my kids exposed to spoken word poetry or more contemporary poems, I'm going to have to be their teacher. I'm going to have to introduce them to a world I'm only just discovering for myself.

Comments

  1. I don't care that much for poetry. Sometimes that which is enclosed it very specific and means something to the writer and a very particular audience, but sometimes there is profound wisdom in them. And then ist is beautiful. Rarely do I stumble across one of them.

    brooke

    ReplyDelete
  2. I think hearing it is completely different from reading it. At least, that's what I'm beginning to suspect.

    ReplyDelete
  3. I really appreciate your comments here, Krista. A good friend of mine, Grayce Scholt, just came to my poetry class today, and I could tell that as she read her poems and talked about them, they really came alive for my students. Poetry began as an oral tradition, after all, and there's something about hearing it that, at least to me, touches me at a very primal level. Even when I'm reading poems from a book, I like to read them out loud -- even if there's nobody there to hear them but me.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Camping with Little Boys

  Our first travel trailer. I don't remember camping much with my family as a kid. This is likely because we always had the same vacation destination: a family plot in Baldwin, MI. There was no cabin there. Instead, there were two structures: a small, silver camper and an old single-wide trailer. The silver camper is gone but the single-wide still sits there and is used by extended family members to this day.  It wasn't until I was a teenager that my step-mom and dad bought a pop-up trailer and we started camping elsewhere in the state. My memory isn't the greatest, but I'm almost certain they got the pop-up after I started dating Ken. Eventually, my parents upgraded to a fifth wheel that my dad still pulls around to various nearby camping spots. Ken, by contrast, didn't have a set vacation destination growing up. His family camped. They started out with a truck-bed camper, I believe, and eventually upgraded to a fifth wheel.  Ken and I vacationed both in Baldwin an

They saved the finger..

This was supposed to be an easy, carefree weekend.  One of those rare weekends where spontaneity is possible because plans were not made ahead of time.  We could lounge on the couch, work on our hobbies, or even do a little shopping.  And, no, I'm not referring to the necessary evil of grocery shopping, but the much more enjoyable version where you get to buy things that actually make you happy. Because the oldest boy needed some pants and the youngest could use a new pair of shoes, I decided to head into the city to do some shopping at Kohl's.  Of course, my decision to shop there was not quite so altruistic.  Mama needed a new bathing suit! So, I pack the kids up and head into the city.  The youngest picks out his shoes . The oldest tries on a few pairs of jeans and ends up with two in the basket.  Did I mention we have to shop in the men's department now?  That he's wearing size 29?  My baby is growing up! Then it was Mom's turn.  I was looking ove

It Should Be Our 28th Wedding Anniversary

I had to do the math twice. Probably because I'm really bad at math. Today should have been our 28th wedding anniversary. We only made it to 26, which is so impressive when you consider how many marriages end in divorce.  So, because I have no doubt in my mind we would have been married still today had cancer not taken him, I want to honor our special day. So, here's a Happy Should Have Been Anniversary to my hubby in heaven.  Today, as I recognize what should have been and think about what was, I figured I'd share not only some lovely pictures from our wedding day but I'd explain how this widow plans to move through October 15, 2022.  In just a little bit, I'm joining another Millington widow at a Widow's Luncheon, which is being hosted by the Amish Church in Millington. I'm a bit nervous, to be honest, because I don't know what to expect. On my best days, I consider mys