So, Why Poetry?

I have asked myself this very question umpteen times. Why poetry? What is it that is so magnetic, so irresistable about writing poetry that, even against my will, I am so compelled to compose poems that, should I miss a day of writing (of some sort), I feel as though I have somehow cheated myself of what I should have been doing?

To no avail, I have tried my hand at writing short stories, novels, novellas -- even turning to photography, calligraphy, sketching, using pastels to use my hands as creative outlets. But, try as I may, I never could get out of the habit of journaling, which is where I usually found myself digressing into a singular moment of creative inspiration, yielding a solitary poem (sometimes two).

It's almost as though my poetry resulted from all of the pages-upon-pages of writing that I had previously done on just-about-everything, and usually nothing of consequence, at all. But at the end of the "diarrhea of the pen," if you will, I was left with a distilled and complete "thought." A mature, and perfect, little gem is what I would call them, even though often I didn't quite know what to make of them, nor could I ever truly "own" them. Don't get me wrong, good or bad, every poem that I have ever written, I have penned of my own imagining, inspiration, my own Self. But I have come to understand those writers and artists who have spoken of their work as having a life of its own, separate from that which the author intended at its inception.

And so I guess part of why I have this inclination towards the poetry is the act of writing poetry itself, as a process and not quite so much even the final product. If that makes any sense...You see, my experience with writing poetry has been one of utter and complete catharsis at any given time or moment. I mean a totally "cleansing" experience that, at least for one moment, provided a glimmer of clarity about some even minute aspect of Life and what it meant to go through the act of living on this earth. This is what made the poetry writing process worth the trouble, quaint a practice though it may be -- at least from the point of view of the critics who question the value of poetry. Writing poetry demands a succinctness that is perfected only as a person evolves as a sensing, and feeling soul. Even then, one never quite knows what the end product will be.

I cannot express how many times I have penned a poem, almost exactly as I conceived it in my mind's eye, only to see it on paper, then change a period to a semi-colon and smile, pleasantly surprised, at the final draft. How do you convey what it feels like to be absolutely amazed and exhilarated by words becoming their own "congregation," taking on its own meaning and relevance and significance, out of, seemingly, insignificant and random occurrences that you, as an individual, have taken in? It never ceases to amaze me how challenging it can be to use the social constructs we call language to build a moment, a thought, or to depict a scene or emotion on the bark of a tree (paper). Or on a computer screen, as it were.

But this is why I write poetry. This is why I Believe in poetry. Because I am always humbled by the absolute honesty that results from the process. Even when what I am writing is not the Truth, as far as my reality is concerned. And for this reason, I believe the cathartic and transcendental nature of the act of writing poetry makes it so important for us to encourage our children -- and our stressed out adults, and our soldiers coming back from war, and those seeking inner redemption -- to write what is within them. Often we don't say what we intend to all that well. Sometimes we can't really say it out loud to anyone. Poetry is distilled reality -- and I say that is worth all the struggle we must endure to finally realize that exquisite literary experience that tickles our curiosity and excites and lights up all areas of our convoluted brains!