Just like the vast majority of the class, as soon as I heard we were starting a poetry unit I let out a sign of resignation. Ever since we started learning about poetry in middle school, I’ve concluded that it’s not for me. I prefer concrete words and ideas, not nonsensical phrases jumbled together in an incomplete sounding mess. When asked to compose a poem in class, I was inspired to author this:
I hate poetry.
It’s careless words
Splattered on the page
Like paint on canvas
Some call it angry
Others joyful
The authors just say
“yes”.
However, over the course of this unit I’ve been forced to confront a lot of my prejudices against the art of poetry and I’ve come to the decision… It’s really not that bad.
The largest reason for why I have always been averse to poetry is that it’s often ridiculously confusing. We are used to literature giving us all the answers or at least being entertaining, yet the type of poetry that often comes to mind when we think of “traditional poetry” offers us no answers. Or at least no satisfactory ones. Even “simple” poems typically have deeper underlying meanings that once explained make perfect sense, but feel impossible to find on our own. In short, we don't actually hate poetry, we just hate not understanding.
Yet this lack of concrete meaning is actually what gives poetry its power. As we struggle to piece together what a hawk flying over some mountains is commenting about human nature, our incomplete thoughts and questions reveal just as much about us as they do the poem. When poetry tackles such complex ideas about life and death, there is no one correct viewpoint. We assign meaning to poems, as much as the authors do. Its obscurity allows us to place our own interpretations onto the words, and possibly gain a better understanding of ourselves in the process.
Instead of trying to ignore poetry, or change it into something we can better understand, we should be changing our mindsets to accept it as it is. And maybe, just maybe, we might begin to actually enjoy it.
I hate poetry.
It’s careless words
Splattered on the page
Like paint on canvas
Some call it angry
Others joyful
The authors just say
“yes”.
However, over the course of this unit I’ve been forced to confront a lot of my prejudices against the art of poetry and I’ve come to the decision… It’s really not that bad.
The largest reason for why I have always been averse to poetry is that it’s often ridiculously confusing. We are used to literature giving us all the answers or at least being entertaining, yet the type of poetry that often comes to mind when we think of “traditional poetry” offers us no answers. Or at least no satisfactory ones. Even “simple” poems typically have deeper underlying meanings that once explained make perfect sense, but feel impossible to find on our own. In short, we don't actually hate poetry, we just hate not understanding.
Yet this lack of concrete meaning is actually what gives poetry its power. As we struggle to piece together what a hawk flying over some mountains is commenting about human nature, our incomplete thoughts and questions reveal just as much about us as they do the poem. When poetry tackles such complex ideas about life and death, there is no one correct viewpoint. We assign meaning to poems, as much as the authors do. Its obscurity allows us to place our own interpretations onto the words, and possibly gain a better understanding of ourselves in the process.
Instead of trying to ignore poetry, or change it into something we can better understand, we should be changing our mindsets to accept it as it is. And maybe, just maybe, we might begin to actually enjoy it.
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