A lonely woman can write about her lover on valentine's day. She can describe his most endearing traits line upon line upon line-- as if...he existed.
A young girl can share her deepest erotic thoughts, demonstrating an ability to take the reader's hand and guide them with her words, leaving them satiated-- but only if she's skilled enough.
For those depressed and those searching to release their pain-- It's a bloodletting.
They've been raped, they've been bullied, ignored and even wounded. The dark side held them too long.
They need you to listen or simply just notice they're alive. They may wonder if writing is all a fruitless endeavor when their written cries for help go unnoticed.
But behind poetry's walls...
A man can offer us a character, from a fictitious town that resembles trees, sidewalks, roads and even paths of his own treasured youth.
An adolescent can share a broken heart with a seemingly invisible world. He/she can release all the angst, tear by tear, until the poem has ended-- for now.
Poetry is a haven for ideas, rants, memories or thoughts that otherwise would go unheard by most. The family simply wouldn't understand.
It is a platform for those skilled or unskilled; for those confident and those apprehensive; for those that standout and those whose computer is their only escape.
Some here, have painstakingly learned poetry has its elements: meter, rhyme, metaphor, and more. As for others, form, cadence, line breaks... are all unimportant.
The prolific and the obscene; those with morals and those without; religious; atheists... they're all involved.
People have left poetry for greener pastures, only to re-emerge days, weeks, or even years later when the writer needed another ear to listen to all he/she wanted to say.
It is a source of frustration, joy and confusion, all mentioned into one place.
It is your yesteryear, your today, and all your tomorrows.
It's a percentage of your life, your time and your thoughts. It consists of creation and destruction.
It's a statement; it's a confession. It's a voice that understands; It's a disciplinarian that doesn't. It's a welcome sign. It's a keep out sign. It's a microcosm of continents and far off cultures. It's a ghost from the past. It's a community. It's a small town. It's a lyrical lagoon.
It's you...it's me...it's us sailing within our own private harbor.
brilliant depiction of WC and its "patrons". as I was reading along, I caught myself nodding in ascent cos you really hit it on the head, Relic.
I find WC a wonderful place to spend time and learn and, maybe, bring something with you for all to see.
good one, Relic.
To quote Emily Dickinson, “If I read a book and it makes my whole body so cold no fire can warm me, I know that is poetry. If I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know that is poetry. These are the only ways I know it. Is there any other way?” So, to Dickinson, and to myself as well, poetry is neither in the talent of the creator nor in the pen of the author but in the heart of the reader or listener. And it is there, most definitely, that our words must take form and find life or die a quiet and unnoticed death. The rest is vanity and desire. There's an old adage that expresses much the same observation. It was recalled by William Camden (author of Britannia) in 1605 thusly, " All the proof of a pudding is in the eating." So, as a personal and collective observation, poetry may depend more upon the palate of the reader than the palette of the artist, no matter what colors he may choose to paint with.
Posted 1 Year Ago
1 Year Ago
Thanks for your enlightening comment, Fabian. Much appriciated. :)
You have really covered the scope of what poetry can do here, things I had never considered. Thanks for the effort. It makes me think I'm doing something worthwhile.
Wow Tim! what a splendid masterpiece of "POETRY", how carefully, caring and cleverly You've done it, pouring your heart into all the places, sincerely, thoughtfully and emotionally. be proud of this one my friend.
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Posted 1 Year Ago
1 Year Ago
I appreciate your thoughts on this, Lightsong. Thank you. :)
These words really jumped out to me from this poem:
"Poetry is a haven
for ideas, rants, memories or thoughts
that otherwise would go unheard by most.
The family simply wouldn't understand."
Poetry is a reflection of who we are, all of our attributes - good and bad. This poem is a terrific summation of this journey of writing that we so love and adore.
Great work!
Posted 1 Year Ago
1 Year Ago
Thanks very much, Linda. I appreciate your visit. :)
To me, poetry is all that you have written above and a bit more.
I wish I could pin down why I love to write but I really cannot.
There are some things I just cannot place my finger on.
I enjoyed this poem so much, I loved it!
Posted 1 Year Ago
1 Year Ago
Thank you, DIVYA. I myself question why I like to put down words on the page too. It's a weird kind .. read moreThank you, DIVYA. I myself question why I like to put down words on the page too. It's a weird kind of need, I guess. :)
I love that you call it weird. :)
Indeed, it seems that, so often.
You are most welcom.. read moreI love that you call it weird. :)
Indeed, it seems that, so often.
You are most welcome!
1 Year Ago
There's a song by The Allan Parsons Project called some other place. Wouldn't it be funny if we have.. read moreThere's a song by The Allan Parsons Project called some other place. Wouldn't it be funny if we have already written all of our poems already in some other place, somewhere, in some other time. :)
1 Year Ago
Yes it would be... Sometimes I feel it too. Like there's nothing really new.
But for now, I'.. read moreYes it would be... Sometimes I feel it too. Like there's nothing really new.
But for now, I've begun storing my poems in Google Cloud. :)
As a nonreligious man (An Intelligent Design Free Thinking Creationist) and EX-minister, I would say that if righteousness were actually something to aspire to or attain, YOU STAND AS A RIGHTEOUS MAN ...! ... You have said all that needs, desperately needed, to be said, and that openly and honestly without frills of bells and whistles of any worldly sale's techniques ... Bravo!
Wow!! You left nothing within writing to be called poetry... It's so vivid and full of description. Yes, here in the cafe we share our emotions or sometimes what others might gone through by our writings. Sometimes it's our story sometimes not, but we like to project our ideas through this poetry thing and even our confusions also, as you rightly said. It's a process of release, a chanel.
Thank you so much for this elaborate miniature version of our emotions we call POETRY