oh hey, it looks like we're supposed to put up the rough draft for points...so...here it is.

What is Poetry? A Theory of Individual Practice

Poetry is an expression of the utmost inner workings of an individual taken in the context of their personal life experiences including race, politics, philosophy, gender, geographical location, age, etc… It reflects a person in and out, culminating in a unique way for each individual. It can be used for political change, to enlighten the masses, express a feeling, tell a story, play with words, or to jot down the world around you. I’m being vague, and intentionally so, for without trace amounts of obscurity, I could not accurately portray the truth behind what poetry is. After all, poetry is not something that will ever be strictly defined; it is not something that can truly be contained by a specific definition. Its essence will be argued by the poetry greats time and time again as time meanders on, changing sides fluidly as the eras flow by.

I was asked as part of this paper to talk about the opinions of Lyn Hejinian and Yusef Komunyaaka both against each other, and then in reference to my own thought. Well, simply put, Yusef Komunyaaka seems all for using poetry as a means for political and social reconstruction. Lyn Hejinian is a language poet, and therefore more open to the use, and structure of poetry in general (we’ll get back to these two later on in the paper). Luckily, these both being viewpoints that tend to butt heads, they both lend themselves to my point; it’s a singular, individual based concept, with intricacies that cannot (or will not) be perceived as exactly the same by any two people.

In the end, poetry comes down to the individual; nothing is more important than this. How it is portrayed, perceived, and crafted are all based on each individual being. The individual culminates themselves into their poetry, and then another individual receives it, and, drawing it into them, makes it a new part of their essence. In that way it begins, and ends, as a portent of a singular personage. 

Does this mean anything can be thought of as poetry? Theoretically speaking, yes, but once again it’s up to each being’s own terms. I certainly see the poetry in the eyes of a young boy crying for his mother’s embrace, in the way a dog might raise its head to only its masters voice, in the grace of a dancer’s sweat rolling along with the dancers flourishing arms, or in the moonlight reflecting off of an old woman’s knitting needles.

But that doesn’t mean you do. After all one of the dictionary definitions of poetry is “poetic qualities however manifested”.  As in, anything that would seem poetic. A definition of poetic is “possessing the qualities or charm of poetry” (both found on Dictionary.com, not the most prestigious of dictionaries I suppose, but it’ll do to get the point across). That point being that our guidelines for defining poetry are very open, and no two people will ever come up with the same one. So how then, you might wonder, will someone actually be able to write a paper on just what poetry is? Well, that brings us straight back to my original point; poetry is all based on each and every individual, and there are no collective assumptions to make. That being said, I suppose I’ll just have to tell you my thoughts on the matter.

            To start off, I think I’ll state that the above was all personal speculation (intriguing how that fits perfectly into my theory, almost like it was planned) and, while it is, in fact, my personal feeling on the subject of poetry, it is but the sketch of the painting of which I must now fill in with the brushstrokes of personality and being that is me; for if every individual arises to their own conclusion of poetry as I believe, then I too am subject to this rule, and must have some sort of connection and feel about what poetry is. It does feel a little weird though, explaining my thoughts of poetry over all, and now trying to condense it, so instead I will explore the ways in which I find poetry enlightening or useful instead of continuing on the broader topic, as I’m sure it’s been well drilled into your head by now.

            I’ll start by simply stating that I’m a rather prolific writer, (as most of you that have actually been checking blogs probably know). I write about past loves, and hope for future ones, for futility found in life, for minor inconveniences, childhood memories, particular urges, or sensations, major life changes, etc…(whether or not any of these poems are any good is up for debate). But that’s just the thing: I don’t write for others, I’m not even sure I write for myself. A lot of poets talk of dictation, and simply writing what comes to them. My individual poetry project poet, Billy Collins believed himself a “secretary to the morning”, and someone who’s sole job was writing down the dictation of the world. Well I am no secretary to the morning, no slave to the machinations of that going on around me; no, I am instead chained to the idea of the soul. I have always, and will always be a man of emotional reasoning opposed to the rational, or relevant. When I feel something, whether it be sorrow from a memory of a lost friend, or something simple, like the joy of a candy bar, it will spill out from my mind into words and my hands will write or type whatever comes forth. That’s my personal poetry, a chaotic mess of emotion thrown into words that sometimes I can’t even remember the definitions for.

            My personal poetry doesn’t limit what I count for poetry though. I used to be skeptical of language poetry, but I gained a new appreciation for it while reading Disclamor and My Life. I don’t really understand it, but there seems to me to be something undeniably poetic about the different forms the words will fall onto a page. From Lyn Hejinian’s almost incoherent ramblings, to G.C. Waldrep’s strange spacing, language poetry has found a new place in my heart as a mysterious but intriguing force.

            As I’ve already stated, I personally find poetry in most things, be it writing, action, or well, anything really. It’s hard to be anything but inclusive when my above theory comes into play. And so, poetry can mean and do different things for different people. For me it’s a release of the self, for someone else it an expression of confinement or rage as in some popular performance poetry, and for another it may be a way to strike out against an abusive government. At its heart, poetry is an expression of the individual put forth to the world.

Works Cited

Forché, Carolyn. Against Forgetting: Twentieth-century Poetry of Witness. New York: W.W. Norton, 1993. Print.

Hejinian, Lyn. My Life. Los Angeles: Sun & Moon, 1987. Print.

Waldrep, George Calvin. Disclamor. 2005. Print.

Hejinian, Lyn. Introduction. Lyn Hejinian and David Lehman, eds. The Best American Poetry 2004. Scribner, 2004. 9-14. Print.

Komunyakaa, Yusef. Introduction. Yusef Komunyakaa and David Lehman, eds. The Best American Poetry 2003. New York: Scribner, 2003. 11-21. Print.