Letters to a New Generation
The Pure Part of Poetry
“A poet is someone who is abnormally fond of that precision which creates movement. Which is to say the highest form of concentration possible: fascination; to report on the electrifying experience of being." - E.E. Cummings
Poetry is like putting the human soul and conflict and emotion into what would normally be absent of these things. Poetry is like the expression of glimpsing beauty in what may or may not be considered beautiful. Poetry is like using words to describe something that doesn't even understand English. But there's something pure in it as well, something that urges forward the giving, or the creating.
Because when you see something for what it is, you can write about everything that it is not and still appreciate it. That's the gift of the poet.
The closest I've come to taking hallucinogens is inhaling laughing gas at the dentist's office. The only way I can describe the pure experience of poetry without the words attached to it and funneling it down smaller than it is... making it less realistic, hands-on, literally touchable... is comparing it to the after-effects of breathing laughing gas. Everything you look at is seen in absolute clarity, but if you try to look at the whole picture, it gets fuzzy, so you look at that one thing again. Normally it may seem small and insignificant, but under the influence it's the most amazing, sparkling, hilarious thing in the room. You try not to laugh because you know it'll make everyone else questioning and uncomfortable, but you can't help smiling. You're grinning while the drill is in your mouth. Shards are flying. The room could burst into flame and someone could bring a saw to your leg, but you'd still be smiling. Your face is numb, but you can see.
That's the closest I can come to describing the feeling behind the poetry. It's when all your instincts are replaced by the absolute facination and humor of this world. It's like waking up and laughing at what you thought was your grief.
Poetry is like putting the human soul and conflict and emotion into what would normally be absent of these things. Poetry is like the expression of glimpsing beauty in what may or may not be considered beautiful. Poetry is like using words to describe something that doesn't even understand English. But there's something pure in it as well, something that urges forward the giving, or the creating.
Because when you see something for what it is, you can write about everything that it is not and still appreciate it. That's the gift of the poet.
The closest I've come to taking hallucinogens is inhaling laughing gas at the dentist's office. The only way I can describe the pure experience of poetry without the words attached to it and funneling it down smaller than it is... making it less realistic, hands-on, literally touchable... is comparing it to the after-effects of breathing laughing gas. Everything you look at is seen in absolute clarity, but if you try to look at the whole picture, it gets fuzzy, so you look at that one thing again. Normally it may seem small and insignificant, but under the influence it's the most amazing, sparkling, hilarious thing in the room. You try not to laugh because you know it'll make everyone else questioning and uncomfortable, but you can't help smiling. You're grinning while the drill is in your mouth. Shards are flying. The room could burst into flame and someone could bring a saw to your leg, but you'd still be smiling. Your face is numb, but you can see.
That's the closest I can come to describing the feeling behind the poetry. It's when all your instincts are replaced by the absolute facination and humor of this world. It's like waking up and laughing at what you thought was your grief.