Saturday, February 18, 2012

The Soul's Tides

(photo credit: Matthew Laine Nall)
To write poetry
Is to dip in the soul's tides,
Waves of words are found.


I love poetry, strike that, I LOVE poetry! In essence, a poem packs the power of a thousand thoughts, feelings, and emotions into just a few lines. Every word is weighted. I try to write now and then, when moved. Sometimes I just write, not exactly conscious of why or what, the words just come. I think sometimes there are thoughts and feeling we have that are just out of reach of expression. We cannot completely describe exactly what it is that we feel. Poetry is syllabic art. There really are no rules, despite what your high school English teacher told you. Iambic pentameter, iambic tetrameter, rhyme, rhythm, prose, and haiku…who cares, just put your words down. It’s amazing what you’ll find was sitting there inside of you.

One of my latest hobbies attempts is memorizing poetry. It’s kind of like having some backup advice for a hard day. I have a few down. Pioneers! O Pioneers! is pretty long, so that one is taking a while to get down pat. Maybe this seems like a waste of time to you, but it’s worth it to me. It’s not easy, and there is satisfaction in accomplishing something hard, and it’s something that cannot be taken away from me.
Often I find myself thinking in it, in poetry. When I’m tired I hear Garcia Lorca whispering “I want to sleep a while, a while, a minute, a century.” When I am feeling overwhelmed I hear Robert Frost, “but I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep.” When I feel beaten up by the world, William Ernest Henley whispers “In the fell clutch of circumstance, I have not winced nor cried allowed. Under the bludgeonings of chance my head is bloodied, but unbowed."


Untitled
By Heather Larson
Show me the difference between fate and happenstance.
A clearing through the trees is not so much a road as
A clandestine suggestion, meant to be discovered by
Much toil, sweat, and aggravation.
Show me that sweet passage that brought you back to
Eternity; the place I’ve long waited – dreaming of intention.
A place where clarity is free and hope is certain; and
Reverie an epithet of ambition.

2 comments:

  1. i'm a big fan of poetry. i wish i read it more.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Kelli, check out poemhunter and just start reading! :)

    ReplyDelete