i hate poetry

at least this kind of poetry.

i'm reading a stack of published, awardwinning poets who are boring me to tears. perhaps because i'm not into abstact poetry, which is what it feels like.

i just want a nice clean story. i think of poems as little novels. i don't know how else to say it. i am becoming quite fond of the narrative style of poetry the matriarch adores, but it's not even just that.

i'm grateful i have fallen into this crowd of poets who write sensibly. who craft works with such power i can feel them. the lines ring out in my mind days, weeks, months later.

if a poem doesn't make sense, how can one appreciate it?

who does this make sense to, is my next question.

how do i find something meaningful in what i cannot make heads or tails of.

and the whole thing makes me want to cry.

i've read a lot of crap poetry. i did not expect to find myself with a semester of crap poetry to read, and this by the big guns.

what is that elusive thing, that thing that makes me respond to a poem.

i remember at dodge two years ago, i didn't want to go to the main tent, i didn't want to park myself outside, when i found no seating, so i tried to walk away.

but the poet was so powerful, he drug me back to listen to his poem.

that is the kind of thing i respond to.

clearly i'm not ignorant of what works in a poem. but i have very different opinions. that i learn to quantify those opinions this semester is my goal. that i can say, this is why i do not appreicate this poem. this is why i do appreciate this poem. that is where i'm headed.

i cannot do that now. all i can do is sigh, and throw my hands up.

poetry is not meant to be a mental scourging.

or people would not read it.

how many souls have told me after i read my work, or those of poets i respond to,

i don't like poetry, but i like what you just read.

it's because they get a glimpse of this abstract poetry thing that i think is mostly academic.

the matriarch hates that crap, and so do i. not to find the language to explain this to my professor, who recommended all these books.

sigh.

that is the challenge though, i believe i'm up to it, but all i've got on my side is a lot of passion and determination. so what else is new?

i'm nervous about submitting my first paper tomorrow. my poetry, raw and unpolished. he will have his way with it. and i will try to keep a smile on my face. i don't try to disagree for the sake of disagreeing. though that may seem the way of it. but i have a particular vantage point, that i cannot articulate it at the moment does not diminish it. it merely inspires me to keep expanding my vocabulary and attempting to articulate this dilemma.

poetry is for the masses. not the elite.

can one write with elevated language, in form, for the masses?

shakespeare did. everyone dug his work. so i know it can happen.

is his language elevated merely because it is antiquated? perhaps.

but he is still writing in form. that is what gets me. this form business is tough to make meaningful. who gives a crap if i can rhyme? certainly not me, why should i think audiences or readers will respond to something just because it is rhymed or in a form. it has to mean something.

this is my dilemma with what i'm reading now. maybe i'm just too much of a numbskull to get the meaning. maybe i need a lot more education. i'll say that is probably close to being true. but i also have this inner knowing. this way of relating to poets and poetry that i think the past four years or so (who knows how long it's been now), has made me believe in. though a small handful at the moment, they are not insignificant.

i think i make my points clear to them. and they are a diverse group.

now, to make my points to my professor. that is my challenge.

so be it.