Splash No. 148 - Poetry

Poetry

In school, I never got poetry. Just the mention of iambic pentameter or rhyme schemes was enough for my eyes to glaze over, Krispy Kreme style. My brain couldn’t understand why anyone other than Dr. Seuss thought that rhyming their words helped their message. And Dr. Seuss made up half the words anyways, so the restriction seemed unhelpful at best. To music, it made more sense — when rhymes just had to be close enough, and no one cared that nothing technically rhymes with orange. The way I saw it, poetry was too highbrow for someone like me, who just wanted to understand. “Just say what you want to say!” I thought constantly.

Since I left the public education system, I’ve warmed up to the genre, as some of the poems from my schooling rise back up from deep within my subconscious. One that constantly comes to mind is this William Carlos Williams’s (yes, that’s his real name) poem

This Is Just To Say
I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox

and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold


At random days in my life, I’d start to think of this poem. It taught me that my preconceived notions of poetry were outdated — a poem didn’t need to be placed on a pedestal, incomprehensible without diagrams and analysis. It could just be a set of words placed intentionally on a page for whatever effect. To me, “This Is Just To Say” could be a scene from Seinfeld in poem form — the speaker of the poem has left a note on the counter, telling the reader that he stole their plums and asks for forgiveness without showing literally any remorse. Tell me Kramer wouldn’t use “they were so delicious and SO COLD” as an excuse to steal someone’s food. With 33 words, this poem manages to create an entire scene in my head, leaving enough blanks for me to fill in my own details, or apply it to my own life. 

When I looked beyond the classic canon of Shakespearean sonnets and other strict forms of poetry, I started to realize that poems had the power to tell any story, often in ways that were more powerful than prose ever could. Poet Laureate Billy Collins said, “poetry is the displacement of silence, while prose is the continuation of noise.” 

What I love about poetry is what I love about every great art form — it transforms your perspective. After reading a few Mary Oliver pieces, you can bet that I’ll be looking at nature with childlike wonder. If I read enough Dickinson, even the darkest moments will hold their own sort of beauty. The list goes on and on. Poetry as a genre reminds me of the artistic movement of Impressionism, the groundbreaking time period when artists like Renoir and Monet decided to focus on the impression of a scene rather than to represent it as accurately as possible. Similarly, a poem doesn’t need to tell you the details of what a moment looked like, but it can find ways to show you what it felt like.  We all know the quote “At the end of the day people won't remember what you said or did, they will remember how you made them feel.” It’s no coincidence that it’s by one of the greatest American poets, Maya Angelou. For example, one of my favorite poets Jim Moore wrote this piece:

 

My father: how he lifted

his glass at our wedding,
and with shaking hand
welcomed love into my life.

Rather than reading about the entire wedding, a speech, or any of the details of the scene, we gain a moment that hints at an immensely meaningful experience. The “shaking hand” holds so much emotion and meaning, inspiring me to discover the intimate details of my own life, to learn to capture them in the same precision.

I decided to take the challenge of writing 30 poems in the month of April. People would normally refer to that as a poem a day for a month, but knowing my incredible procrastination abilities, I’m already a few days behind. I write poems when I can. Sometimes it’s easy and sometimes it’s hard, mainly because I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing. Because I’m still pretty new to the form, I don’t know what makes a good poem or a bad poem, so I’m winging it. And honestly, it makes the whole experience better — since I’m able to just write for the sake of writing, with little judgment going into the process. And for your troubles, here’s a cinquain I wrote recently:

tuesday
at last,
my cup is drained.
an inky afghan draped
over the clouds and each of us.
good night
 

Drops of the Week
 

• PLAYLIST - A playlist for a 19th century villain plotting their revenge - a Classical playlist with a really fun name

• ARTICLE - "Salt, Fat, Acid, Defeat" by Aaron Timms - thoughtful and in-depth reflection on the nature of restaurants before and after COVID and how they've evolved with technology. Fantastically written.

• POEMS - pome - I use this are.na board to save all of my favorite poems and constantly return to it for inspiration

With each day, we can move closer to a more equitable world. Reminders:
 

Donate to Asian Americans Advancing Justice Atlanta Mutual Aid Networks

Anti-racism resources

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Yours poetica,
Nikhil