SoulPancake

[SP EXCLUSIVE]

Brace yourselves. This is a column about … cue scary music … poetry. What does that mean, aside from the obvious? Hell if I know, but here’s the thing: We like to de-lamify things here at SoulPancake, and since poetry often gets written off as (and sometimes is, in fact) lame, I’ve put on my English major superhero cape and set to typing. The basic idea? To explore and discuss the use of words—beautiful, glorious words—while perhaps sparking more interest in (or at least a lesser aversion to) poetry.

Perhaps you’re wondering, “Why does it matter if I’m open to poetry?” Well, you’re still reading, aren’t you? Beyond that, the thing I love most about poetry is how it can capture a feeling, a moment, a life in a way that nothing else can. A poem can be deeply personal, with meanings only its writer understands, and at the same time, it can be relatable or appealing to everyone else.

Think about it. Poetry is one of the most flexible art forms we have. And today, art has reached the point where rules don’t apply. Translation: Poems don’t have to rhyme! You don’t have to count meters and feet, come up with a rhyme scheme or even a specific object, feeling, or person upon which to ponder. Feel that? It’s freedom. You can, of course, stick to some rules—structure’s not all bad, especially when trying something a little or a lot different. And pushing those boundaries are the poets themselves. Stodgy old men smoking pipes in velvet armchairs? Heck no. Today’s poets are graffiti artists. Heavy metal lyricists. Kindergarteners. Soldiers. Teachers. Preachers. And assorted fictional creatures.

We wax poetical to help us see something from all angles, to help us better understand our subjects and our own thoughts. And reading a great poem can have the same effect. The way a day, a week, a love, a tragedy can be captured in a few short lines, where unexpected words transport a reader into the moment and make him or her become the poem’s speaker. By the same token, a well-orchestrated amalgam of words can transform a split-second gasp into hysterical laughter waiting to stab you in the chest with someone else’s splintered femur—that femur, by the way, was a casualty of a previous poem about teddy bears, cotton candy, and a little old lady with a tack hammer.

One of my favorite poets is Billy Collins, who writes funny, seemingly whimsical pieces that take sudden turns toward the serious, profound, and heart-wrenching. He does this effortlessly, so that when a short poem entitled “Weighing the Dog” ends up being a melancholy reflection about lost love, you find your lips lifted in a knowing smirk. Then there’s “The Country,” one of my favorites, which uses a hypothetical mouse with a hypothetical match to get one thinking about the bewildering and short-lived glory of one “suddenly thrust ahead of his time”’:

now a fire-starter, now a torchbearer
in a forgotten ritual, little brown druid
illuminating some ancient night

And then, of course, your country house burns down.

The point is, poetry can be lame, overwrought, sappy, drippy, vomit-inducing, inaccessible, pretentious, and stodgy. I, for one, will rejoice if I never have to read “Ode on a Grecian Urn” again. But poetry, like all music that falls under the umbrella of “pop” can also be beautiful, insightful, exhilarating, soul-stirring, quirky, and generally badass. Hopefully, this column will help you find those poems and poets, and get you reading and writing your own poetry, simply for the sake of doing it. Let’s get started.

Who is your favorite poet—and why?

:: @meggo