Poetry, can we define such a word? If it is not rhyme, meter, imagery, symbolism, line-length, nor the subject matter that makes a poem, then what? To me, poetry is thought placed and carefully considered to express whatever the intent of the creator. However, it encompasses more than that; poetry is life. Take anything into consideration, try to focus all your spirit energy to feel what that object or person feels, then take your thought and surround yourself within it. Now explode. Let the deepest regions of you burst on to paper with ferocity or tenderness. Strive to show yourself your reason, your love, your hate, your search—yourself. Be it what it may, it is poetry—it is life.
Don’t be mislead! More, far more, goes into poetry. We need to establish a sense of being when we write, to bring words in form. The same morphing, pulsating changes that occur within our bodies occurs in poetry as well!
To think, a single word can teach me more of me than anyone could ever. Still, I do not call myself a poet; it would be ignorant to do so. This is only the beginning; I’ve barely traveled one-one hundredths of this journey. I can only imagine where it’ll take me.
“…a single word can teach me more of me than anyone could ever.”
