A combination of words which may be bound to chosen rules, even a choice of none: poetry is foremost a series of literary choices which form a final piece which is not (usually) called story, novel, article. At times poetry is prose. At times it’s defined by its structure or theme. At times it’s verse, lyrics, a song, sometimes it is a story, sometimes even a novel.
Poetry is a choice to reveal, the same as other forms of writing. It’s reliance on choice is more obvious than other forms just as other forms do not often reveal with such simplicity.
A choice to be delicate, pleasing to the tongue and ear, a choice to be disruptive and chaotic, nonetheless in poetry, the choice to hide becomes the most bare nudity. I fear being seen and so poetry strips me bare. The spirit of poetry consumes choices and in return offers the words needed to illuminate the reason behind the choice.
Bad poetry is a myth, more fantasy than most myths. Poetry judges as nature does, without ‘good’ or ‘bad’. There only is ‘is’. A damaged leaf that falls to rot on the ground exists as valuable nutrients to return to the stream of life energy, as is a diseased animal, and a pest ridden anything is valuable to the pests.
I don’t know what you think poetry is, but I know what it is to me. There are definitions to read and techniques to study but what something ‘is’ is far grander than what we can learn.
Poetry is easy and it’s impossible.
Some people hate poetry and that’s understandable. There’s a lot to hate about nudity, uncomfortable to absorb, sometimes unpleasant to our particular sensibilities. Poetry is one of the more artistic forms of literature and therefore more divisive.
I’ve dedicated myself to writing fifty thousand words of poetry this month so forgive me if this writing feels chaotic or rushed, it hasn’t been edited and has been written in between sprints and marathons. I’ve been participating in NaNoWriMo religiously since ‘07 and not every year is a winner. I accept that the unconventionality of my project this year will likely take me over my deadline.
Still, I’m eager to learn all I can from this experience, from poetry, from time, and from my abilities as a writer and artist.