I’ve been thinking a lot lately about poetry, about definitions and about people. Wracking my brain over this, I decided to make this page to post my thoughts about the nature of poetry and art in general. Hopefully, you’ll all post your thoughts and ideas too.
Feel free to add anything you please, whether you’ve got some deep philosophy to share or you just want to tell me I’m a raving idiot!
Thanks.
Poetry is weather. It changes when it wants to. There’s peace, there’s war, there’s sun and there’s storm but most of all, poems are hungry and hard to satisfy.
poetry seizes the dull movement of the day and for an instant there is moment of alivetedidvedness.
and, at least for me, it makes me feel like I’m not surrounded by so many modern conveniences but that I actually like a yogi in the desert reaching absolute introspectivetedidvedness.
Well. I’m going to post that one on my blog. Heh.
- Mark
Poetry is watercolour, and I’m not so fond of grey.
You’re a raving idiot! haha, no you’re not, you’re obviously smart and cool, poetry is the place where the most important tool we have as humans, language, communication, is allowed to run free without rules, playing, testing itself, exploring, poetry is a vital art and the most important responsibility of the poetry to test boundaries, of course one can only discover a boundary by crossing it, so the life of a poet is a constant adventure, rage on, i say,
I like writing poetry better than reading politics. I don’t have to settle. But then again, I still don’t understand it.
Gingatao – Nothing in those words I wouldn’t stand by. I’d have to agree!
Poetry is fickle. Ruts are bastards.
Caught my mind on a nail today and something got me thinking. Poetry isn’t about verb-and-noun blitzing or vocabulary masturbation, it’s about getting to the root of an emotion or expression and putting it together into a new form. It’s that freedom that, for me, makes poetry worth pursuing.
Just something on my list of things to ponder for today.
I have very little to do with the way a poem begins – most of the time I feel I’m minding my own business. But then it starts and what begins as going along for the ride, turns into pursuit, or a compelling desire to get all the way to the heart of the matter, all the while riding the edge between oblivion and abundance. So kinda addictive, I think…
Thanks for stopping by, too.
Poetry is one constant argument and sometimes I just wish I could put it down. But when sanity prevails, I know how much I’d miss it.
Some music makes sweet poetry, and some poems make sweet music. If only there were time.
A picture is worth a thousand words. A poem is worth at least 600.
Hey, I like that.
Poetry’s been hard lately but with any luck, gears will move.
I’m new to blogging and WordPress, but not to poetry. I just stumbled across your site, and like your work and the ramblings of your mind.
Poetry, to me, is sensemaking without a straightforward vocabulary. You may start with an idea, concept, or issue…or not. Either way, some phrase or comparison comes out of your mouth or pen or fingers. If it helps make sense of something to you (even on a level you can’t really describe), then it works. When it helps someone else…resonates with them…so much the better.
I tried for awhile to just write something (poetry) everyday, or several times a week. But that doesn’t seem to work well for very long (for me). I can’t remember who said it (I can look it up, but am too lazy to do so right now), but I agree: “Poetry isn’t written on a schedule.”
Good luck getting your gears to move. Nature is a good dose of WD-40 for me.
So, about this poetry thing..
I think it’s shook me off, gotten loose and left me lost out here. If only I were taller.
Scratch that.
If only I fit these shoes.
Buck up lad. That sounds like whingeing. It’s a bloody long trek and you should think yourself lucky to have any shoes at all. You’re a poet, learn to live with it.
“If only I were taller.” Ha! Poetry a fickle lover for sure. Though I have to admit, sometimes I just don’t want to hear it. Other times it takes me four days of pacing for three mewling stanzas. Where’s the Guinness?
Have discovered that it is easiest to write when one should be doing something else.
I found your blog through one of those automatically-generated, possibly-connected, tags-related, wordpress-suggested posts.
Thought I’d share.
To me, creating poetry is a birthing process. You don’t know what you’re bringing to the world until the whole thing’s done. And even then, you have no control over your creation’s impact on others. A poem never turns out the way you expected it to.