A Case for Poetry

In our hurry-up, fast-paced, instant society, I don't understand why poetry isn't more favored. I know of no other medium that says so much in such few words. In fact, that's why I returned to writing poetry when I started writing novels. It hones my writing skills and forces me to use precise, succinct words with a wealth of meaning.

I wonder if those English teachers who have caused students to dissect a poem almost word by word haven't caused irreparable harm. Poetry is like a fine painting. Unless you want to learn to paint, you shouldn't look at each individual brush stroke to judge it's worth. It must be experienced - the whole of it. Each reader comes to a poem with different experiences and different traits, and there's nothing wrong with them interrupting it differently, according to what it means to them. In fact, that's what I think we should do. That's what breathes life and longevity into a poem.

Who can't appreciate -

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
And miles to go before I sleep.  
("Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening" by Robert Frost)

or be entertained by -

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore --
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
"'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door --
Only this and nothing more."
("The Raven" by Edgar Allan Poe)

or picture -

Under a spreading chestnut tree
The village smithy stands;
The smith, a mighty man is he,
With large and sinewy hands;
And the muscles of his brawny arms
Are as strong as iron bands.
("The Village Blacksmith" by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow)

There really is poetry out there that will speak to each one of us. Why do we tune it out. Songs are just poems set to music. I rest my case.

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