Birth Of A Poem Poem by Nosheen Irfan

Robert Frost said: A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. Where my poetry comes from is a complete mystery to me.

In my case, sometimes, poetry just flows out. I might finish a poem just within minutes. Sometimes, a hastily written poem has to undergo a lot of editing. At other times, I have to really labor hard to express my thoughts. Many poems have gone unwritten like summer clouds that fail to rain. Your poem is beautiful and, with the last two lines, I see a spreading cherry-blossom tree showering all over the blessed earth. (10)

This is a poem of GENESIS in more than one way. In a sense you are describing poetry BEFORE it becomes a piece of literature as a discrete object. It is what one American poet called A FIELD OF ENERGY, acting like a magnet pulling meanings, ideas and feelings, images into itself. Of course, you shaped it into an eleven-line poem but this evening I read it as if it were still that open-ended, floating-freely poetry that has not settle into one meaning or one purpose. And I felt strangely liberated after a day in the life of Daniel threatened to pull me down. The image of RUFFLED FEATHERS OF THOUGHT describes precisely the type of thinking I was engaged in for about 90 minutes and it took place in that UNSWEPT CORNER OF MY MIND where no judgments or doubts stalled the free flow of thoughts. Your poem was with me in those long hours of the night when sleep is elusive, thoughts weigh heavy and the soul needs illumination. Your poem kept the vigil with me and spread its verbal light over me as we both, poem and self, wait for the dawn to shed its daylight over us

I don't know wherefrom the poems come.but they come when u think some thing to write about as a message to others dear Organ.Nice poem penned.

An excellent informative write.... admired!

Well conceived and nicely crafted with artistic brilliance. An insightful piece nicely put together.

A beautiful thought.Enjoyed reading it.

I think poems come from many places. Thousands of little things that happen can trigger ideas for poems. Sometimes poems just seem to write themselves, the thoughts and ideas come so quickly. Other times a vague idea is there, but I can't put it into a poem. Sometimes I have a couple of good lines as the start (or an ending) for a poem, but can't come up with other good lines to go with them. I have maybe 20 part-poems right now waiting to be finished. A couple of years ago, or maybe just less than that, maybe only one year, I had the first six lines of what I intended to be an eight-line poem running around in my head. I was so excited because I thought that this would be the best poem that I (or anyone else, in my opinion) had ever written. I only needed those other two lines. I had just finished thinking that I should write those six lines down so I wouldn't forget them and then work on the other two lines later, when something happened to distract me (I don't remember what) and later I could remember that I had six lines of a new poem, but couldn't remember them, nor even what the subject of the poem had been! So frustrating. I never did remember those six lines or what the poem had been about. Moral: When you get an idea, write it down!