Why Do We Like Poetry?

“Poetry is painting that speaks,”said Plutarch.

A painting that gets its hues from words.
Just a metaphor can evoke emotions that could not be described in a thousand words.

Poetry is liked due to its succinct style. It soars on the wings of words.
Poetry touches your deepest cords effortlessly. It develops perceptions.
It liberates us from the mundane. It gives us wings.
Due to its ambiguous nature, it can be interpreted in more than one way, depending on how the reader discerns the thoughts.

What attracts us to poetry?

There could be a myriad answers…some poets have shared them…

Ritu says:  “I love the way words flow in rhythmic ways, rhyming or not, echoing the poets thoughts, often conveying huge sentiments in limited words and lines.”

In Deborah’s opinion, “For me it just happens. In 35 seconds, there’s a poem. Love it on Twitter, but I also write book-length verse. I’m an odd duck, but I know you understand!

Robbie Cheadle “likes the flow of words and the meter of poetry. With Haiku and tanka poems, I enjoy playing around with words to make a statement with an impact.”

Miriam feels… “It rather seems that poetry grabbed hold of me. I do find the musicality, rhythm and strength of emotions attract me in a poem.

Wendy took my heart away with her profound and philosophical reflections: “Poetry gives edges, expression, and delineation to experiences that allow the reader to help define and be with their own experience that is evoked from reading the poem… Great poetry renders a visual like a painting where one can see all the splashes and colors and layers and depths or like a beautiful symphony or ensemble of music where one has the time and space to really listen to each and every instrument and the synthesis of all the textures and resonances that create the culmination of the whole journey of the musical piece.”

Radhika says: “Poetry to me, is a celebration of thoughts and language. My feelings ooze out, into which I dip the quill and ink them on paper. It is also cathartic. The deepest pain and anguish, the euphoric love, the intense moments of life, all find an outlet through words, which when woven eloquently, creates magic. I enjoy the conversation of thoughts that emanates in my mind before they paint the paper with their hues.”

I don’t remember when I developed a liking for poetry but soulful lyrics of songs always attracted me.

My real introduction to poetry occurred when I joined university and took up English as a major. Initially it was challenging to understand Robert Browning and Alfred Tennyson but the simpler poems of William Wordsworth, rich with the love of nature attracted me to poetry and my fondness kept growing.

It also depends on how well a poem is explained by our teacher and those who choose to explain even a simple simile or a metaphor are remembered fondly. I met some such gems who explained poems painstakingly.

Like my dearest friend Deborah says: The first is always special and has shared her first poem with us:

Ode to a Sunday Morn by Deborah 
[Original title. I had no idea how many lines constituted an “Ode”; still don’t, nor to I care.]
Today is made for growing
With Spring knocking at my door
The sky is dark and clouded
The rain serenely pours
The flowers gently peek
From their Winter’s hiding place
The robin he doth seek
A pine of firry lace
The rain is bringing growth
To every flower, bush, and tree
The creeks and rivers floweth
With eternal life to be
The clouds gently part
A ray of sun kisses the earth
It enlivens my heart
With the Spring’s wondrous rebirth
From a church on yonder hill
The Bells of Sabbath Ring
The world is quiet ’til
The birds begin to sing…
“I was nine years old. It was published in a 4-H magazine. I have never forgotten it, though I forget my short Twitter poems now because I write so many. The first is always special! I had been a city kid, and due to my Dad’s job we moved to the country. At first, I was afraid, but then I fell in love with nature.”
© Deborah A. Bowman

Ritu remembers that “one of my first was a poem about my brother, and how annoying he was! Apt since at 9, siblings rarely get on!”

Wendy wrote her first poem in, “I think, 6th grade (age 11 or 12, I think). It was printed in the school anthology. I wrote the poem, I believe, because it was a homework assignment to write a poem. By this age I had read quite a bit of poetry, although I suspect all of the poetry read at that point in my life had been poetry written for children. The emotion, at the time, of the poem, I believe, was silent acceptance and hope. The poem had an expression of Divinity in it-although not directly but abstractly. I think that was very reflective of where I was at in my life.”

I could not write poetry at such an early age! Even when I started writing, I didn’t share it because the poetry of John Donne, Keats, T.S. Eliot and such great poets intimidated me. My early poetry (Read here)

To be continued… Stay tuned for more!

Meanwhile please note: I would be gifting two ebooks of Sublime Shadows Of Life, my debut poetry book to those two readers who write the most poetic comments to all the posts I publish this month – #NationalPoetryMonth. Happy writing!

Thank you for reading this. Please share your valuable reflections, as they are much appreciated.

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Balroop Singh.