It struck me as I read a poem to my son, I had never fully explored or expressed what I think is so special about poetry. I’ve written some poems over the last 15 years, and yet I cringe when someone might comment that I am a poet. (Believe me, it doesn’t come up that often.) It is not that I don’t want to be labeled as a poet or that I do not secretly strive to be known as a poet. In a way many would never understand, it is a burning desire of mine. It is simply that I seriously wonder if I am worthy of such a title. I hold true poets in very high esteem. This is not to say that I would put all well known poets into that category. Some well known poets I revere, others I loath, others I take offense at their relative popularity. This is just another of the curiosities related to poetry. Some people get it and some people don’t. Or more accurately, some people get some of it and some people get none of it.

So why is poetry so special to me? I am going to think out loud here and hope that it creates mildly interesting reading. First and foremost in my mind, poetry on average should be a powerfully packed, condensed version of an idea, feeling or thought. It should be pithy. I really mean pithy. Stop right now and look up the meaning of pithy! A relatively early poem of mine was incredibly brief, and yet, I think very fondly of it. It goes like this.

Write what you see the shortest way,
Or words may be all that you say.

I imagine this is a thought that has occurred millions of times. Yet I think there may be a chance that these 15 words have never been strung together in such a fashion. (I just checked it in Google so that I wouldn’t look like a complete fool. Whew! I am safe for now.) Not one of these 15 words is a fancy, rare word. My first grader knows them all. Yet somehow throwing them together in such an arrangement expresses an idea (if I were bold I would say truth) in a way that is appealing to the ear and unique. To me that is amazing. (You might guess from this standard that I am not a tremendous fan of epic poems.)

My second essential component of poetry is that it must be derived from a passionate soul and seep with meaning that truly is fully understood by only one. Others may gain a glimpse of the meaning, but it should be felt most deeply by the writer. I am indebted to a previous poet for expressing this ideal in a more powerful and lovely way.

The Fourth Stanza of The Poet by William Cullen Bryant

The secret wouldst thou know
To touch the heart or fire the blood at will?
Let thine own eyes o’erflow;
Let thy lips quiver with the passionate thrill;
Seize the great thought, ere yet its power be past,
And bind, in words, the fleet emotion fast.

My third essential component of poetry is that it must have some meter and a rhythmic pattern. I am not a stickler for any type of meter or for meter that must stay the same. In fact I often appreciate it more if the meter varies in the poem. Sometimes a varied meter can be an effective technique for controlling the tempo of the poem. With my apologies to free verse, I do believe that a poem should rhyme. Let me take that back, I don’t apologize to free verse. If anything it owes me an apology. I give extra points for creative or unusual rhymes. This to me ensures an essential component of a well crafted poem. A well crafted poem has an abundance of painstakingly chosen words. To the writer it must have many words where no other word would do. In particular, I marvel at well chosen and obscure words which work within the overall structure and intent of a poem. Let me share one of my favorite, exquisitely obscure and well chosen lines from a poem.

Siam’s gonna be the witness to the ultimate test of cerebral fitness.

If you don’t recognize this as a legendary line from a poem of renown, I completely understand. But the use of an archaic term for Thailand coupled with an alternative pronunciation of the highly unusable poetic word cerebral leaves me breathless. I will leave it to you to discover where this line originated. Hint: It’s from an 80’s song.

I imagine there are many other angles that I could attack to explain why I hold poetry in high regard, but I figure that this rambling post can only go on for so long. One final thought, I wish I understood Hebrew so I could marvel at the Psalms as they were originally crafted.