Poetry…the word itself sound poetic. Of all types of literature, poetry would be one of the most wondrous yet somewhat difficult to comprehend. While I was studying Literature, I often thought that poetry is simply a combination of rhymes, stanzas and measures. Although this is true in the traditional sense, I think it’s impossible to put any exact words to express its real essence – which is somehow ironic for something that is made up (usually) of words.
After reading several written works, I began to understand why some people would even allude a person’s way of speaking as poetry, or how a delivered line in a movie is poetry. Movements such as dance and other forms of art can even be described as a poetry.
Despite its beauty, I would admit that it is not the most enticing form of written art for a beginner. Even as a student, I often wonder how my teachers would draft objective types of exams for sonnets and haikus aside from asking who the poet was. It does prove to be one of the more stimulating and thought-provoking subjects for class discussions because every movement of a leaf, a cry or a pause is subject to interpretation.
To appreciate a poem, a verse or even a simple line, one must try to be patient and allow the mind to wander, to imagine. Like an exotic dish, it may need several “sampling” before one can fully digest its meaning. For example, in a poem, the word black may pertain to death, a grim mood, corruption, destruction or grief. On rare occasions, it simply pertain to the color. A poem may not even use actual words. It can only be swish, a howl or a bunch of punctuation. Rules seems to not apply. I think for most parts, poetry is created when a written work is able to inspire, evoke emotion, or even to stir thoughts.
When words cease to be a mere combination of letters and the message of the words are understood not only through cognition but also through intuition…for me that is poetry.