What Poetry Means To Them Poem by Daniel Brick
What Poetry Means To Them
Poetry means a clean sheet
of paper to the anxious poet.
He covers the dry page
with moist words,
squeezed from his heart's vocabulary.
But children romping on the playground
tear the paper to shreds and fling
the pieces into bright air.
They drift down like big snow-flakes
which will never melt.
Poetry means the nagging memory
of the lost one
in the surviving one, always two
on either side of death, both waiting
for their next embrace.
For our grandparents, spying
on the seasons as they
shift and glide,
poetry is the slow rhythm
of the mantle clock.
For the thinker,
poetry lingers in the space
between her widening thought. For the lone
lover and the perfect fool, it measures
the time desire burns.
Everyday they show us
poetry is nothing but a gasp, a breath
breathed into surrounding air,
a cry that echoes again and again,
the soft touch of a hand we never see.
Amazing! Poetry is powerful and truthful.Its amazing how you can express your feelings and emotions in writing. Letting your imagination run freely to another world.When I'm writing I find it so theraputic. It has helped me so much to open up my thoughts. Thankyou for sharing and I enjoyed reading it!
Poetry means the nagging memory of the lost one Is it true?
the soft touch of a hand we never see. - the touch of mouth too! - that's what you opened to me about YOUR poetry, you really imagine and see poetry a lot from and for flesh Brodsky said: poetry is dictation of the Language - for him it meant God. and it is anavoidable.
So, Daniel, I thought I'd jump to one of your earlier entries for my next read. I picked this one because I too have written on poets and poetry. Overall I think this is a very good meditation on poetry (which means much to some of us and avoided by many or most) . It has enough good phrases and lines it would make for a long note to list them all. For your consideration, I wonder about the last stanza, who the they are. I didn't automatically think of those mentioned in the previous stanzas. And if that's what you intended, the last stanza doesn't feel like a summary. And if a summary, is it needed? As a long-time practioner of poetry and English teacher like you, I hope you don't mind conversation on matters of craft. Some of what you say in the poem brings to mind something I've been thinking about lately. In PH there's the means to list our favorite poets, and I've been thinking that I'd list Edward Hopper if I could. For I am drawn to things impending, to the riches and resonances in high context literaure like haiku and the other arts that suggest so much with so little. For some of my own thoughts on poetry and poets, you might check out my poems The Pull of Poetry and A Village Poetry Reading. This turned out to be a lengthy note after all. O well. Glen
So, Daniel, I thought I'd jump to one of your earlier entries for my next read. I picked this one because I too have written on pots and poetry
'children romping on the playground tear the paper to shreds and fling the pieces into bright air.' wonderful, was quite delighted upon finishing this poem, extending into what poetry means for the what a friend used to call contemporary 'philistines', which he described as people lead by materialism, disdainful of intellectual or artistic values, and proud to be so. The value produced weighted as nothing resolved into an interesting stanza. Enjoyed your poems and details of artistic goals and poetic rules applied.
I liked your ars poetica so much, a few words on the kern of it.
[...]Poetry means the nagging memory of the lost one in the surviving one, always two on either side of death, both waiting for their next embrace.[...] Yes, and maybe a bridge between the two as well. Maybe a way keep what was once beautiful but now lost alive... A beautiful poem Daniel. Art can overcome a lot of things, and it certainly means a lot of things to a lot of people..
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/26/2024 6:38:40 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Poetry is magic. Art is lasting. Great poem!