So I dare to be a poet? It does not matter what proportion of genius or innovation that my work might reflect. It is not of great importance of how I am to be compensated or even how my production is received. It is just important that it is received and witnessed at all. To touch one mind should be the only goal. If it touches more, that should be considered a bonus.
In the occupation of the poet, it is the audience that matters most. The content is of equal importance. But without the audience, what is the mission of said content?
There is also the important matter of context. It is extremely important that the context of words be carefully observed. Even then, sometimes you will stumble across a phrase in writing that is somehow universal and defines its own context. It is these sort of universal phrases a true poet must seek, for they are timeless and eternal.
There are great works of literature, to be sure, that contain such universal phrases. It is for these very trinkets of human creativity and expression that make a literary work one to truly treasure and honor. It has much less to do with the plot, often tried and true, than the telling. It is the artistry: the metaphor, the corollaries, the literary devices of all sorts that make the study.
Too many scholastic types obsess over mechanics and form. When it comes to substance, they read as much into every word as they possibly can, of course. Sometimes, scholars completely ignore the original context and make up their own just to have something to say.
All things considered, the poet's most dear focus should be the message. That is, the idea, the inspiration to be shared. The poet should never be too mindful of structure, only to the point to keep somewhat organized and to maintain direction in the work.
The editing process is what helps to smooth over the rough surfaces and trim the imperfections as much as is necessary, Sometimes the imperfections are a necessary part of creating the art. In the crafting of any human enterprise, there is always a slight imperfection. That is, unless it is the thesis of something so grand and undeniably universal that it has a sort of pseudo-perfection which must be beheld with the greatest awe...
Then again, the poet's work is never truly finished until it is grasped by another mind. Whatever it takes to reach the mind and soul of another must be done. That is the great mission of any poetry, in whatever form, to share that mind and soul unique to humankind.
I may often falter in being concise or clear, and perhaps for that I have not really been much of a success as a poet. But I do not offer this advice as a sort of "self-help" lecture or even as just a reflection of my own experience. It is simply to tell what I have painstakingly discovered over these many years of crafting far less than perfect verses and countless paragraphs of often aimless prose. The most important lesson that I can teach you is that no matter what, you will write a lot of crap. This is simply a necessary part of the writing process.
As has been said already, the poet must not be too mindful of structure. The form will appear on its own; if not right away, after careful and thoughtful editing, keeping only what is vital. But it is all-important that the words not be told what to do until they have already been written.
Pure poetry must come from your own stream of consciousness. Do not immediately if it does not seem original. The process must be unhindered from even the most casual scrutiny until what is to be said is already there. Surely more can be added to it later, but true poetry will take its form upon its conception.
It is only after the verses are borne that they can be effectively molded. The process I am describing is familiar to many as the notion of brainstorming. It is indeed a sort of storm, this process. It must be naturally allowed to run its course before you do anything to try and harness what it leaves behind.
Some writers are immensely gifted in this sort of "brainstorming" and not so much in the thereafter editing and moulding necessary to bring it to its final, proper, most perfect form. Whatever talent you have in that latter area is critical to your success as a poet. If it is satisfactory as is, don't touch it. Let others decide how they will receive it. You have done your part.
There is far more to poetry than any sort of rhyme scheme, meter, and any other structural element. These are, perhaps at best, tools that the poet can use. But it is this poet's opinion that the free-form must precede the use of any of these tools. Those tools should be part of the editing process, not that of creation.
If you find it easier to use such "poetic conformity" in the creation of your pieces, then so be it. But I can almost guarantee it will produce nothing in that fashion as wholesome as letting free-form language flow and then apply whatever tools necessary to refine it. If you dare to be a poet, let the words take you where they will, and not the other way around.
In the occupation of the poet, it is the audience that matters most. The content is of equal importance. But without the audience, what is the mission of said content?
There is also the important matter of context. It is extremely important that the context of words be carefully observed. Even then, sometimes you will stumble across a phrase in writing that is somehow universal and defines its own context. It is these sort of universal phrases a true poet must seek, for they are timeless and eternal.
There are great works of literature, to be sure, that contain such universal phrases. It is for these very trinkets of human creativity and expression that make a literary work one to truly treasure and honor. It has much less to do with the plot, often tried and true, than the telling. It is the artistry: the metaphor, the corollaries, the literary devices of all sorts that make the study.
Too many scholastic types obsess over mechanics and form. When it comes to substance, they read as much into every word as they possibly can, of course. Sometimes, scholars completely ignore the original context and make up their own just to have something to say.
All things considered, the poet's most dear focus should be the message. That is, the idea, the inspiration to be shared. The poet should never be too mindful of structure, only to the point to keep somewhat organized and to maintain direction in the work.
The editing process is what helps to smooth over the rough surfaces and trim the imperfections as much as is necessary, Sometimes the imperfections are a necessary part of creating the art. In the crafting of any human enterprise, there is always a slight imperfection. That is, unless it is the thesis of something so grand and undeniably universal that it has a sort of pseudo-perfection which must be beheld with the greatest awe...
Then again, the poet's work is never truly finished until it is grasped by another mind. Whatever it takes to reach the mind and soul of another must be done. That is the great mission of any poetry, in whatever form, to share that mind and soul unique to humankind.
I may often falter in being concise or clear, and perhaps for that I have not really been much of a success as a poet. But I do not offer this advice as a sort of "self-help" lecture or even as just a reflection of my own experience. It is simply to tell what I have painstakingly discovered over these many years of crafting far less than perfect verses and countless paragraphs of often aimless prose. The most important lesson that I can teach you is that no matter what, you will write a lot of crap. This is simply a necessary part of the writing process.
As has been said already, the poet must not be too mindful of structure. The form will appear on its own; if not right away, after careful and thoughtful editing, keeping only what is vital. But it is all-important that the words not be told what to do until they have already been written.
Pure poetry must come from your own stream of consciousness. Do not immediately if it does not seem original. The process must be unhindered from even the most casual scrutiny until what is to be said is already there. Surely more can be added to it later, but true poetry will take its form upon its conception.
It is only after the verses are borne that they can be effectively molded. The process I am describing is familiar to many as the notion of brainstorming. It is indeed a sort of storm, this process. It must be naturally allowed to run its course before you do anything to try and harness what it leaves behind.
Some writers are immensely gifted in this sort of "brainstorming" and not so much in the thereafter editing and moulding necessary to bring it to its final, proper, most perfect form. Whatever talent you have in that latter area is critical to your success as a poet. If it is satisfactory as is, don't touch it. Let others decide how they will receive it. You have done your part.
There is far more to poetry than any sort of rhyme scheme, meter, and any other structural element. These are, perhaps at best, tools that the poet can use. But it is this poet's opinion that the free-form must precede the use of any of these tools. Those tools should be part of the editing process, not that of creation.
If you find it easier to use such "poetic conformity" in the creation of your pieces, then so be it. But I can almost guarantee it will produce nothing in that fashion as wholesome as letting free-form language flow and then apply whatever tools necessary to refine it. If you dare to be a poet, let the words take you where they will, and not the other way around.
RSS Feed
