Poetry is changing my life.
Most of the poets you know, I don’t know. I can assure you that. Most of the poetry you know, I don’t know. I can assure you that, too. Don’t ask me any questions. As yet.
As of now, one poet has consumed my entire consciousness. And to understand this poets’s poetry, I am reading poems by other poets. I am learning structure. (Which is not easy, I can assure you that too). Hate it when Maths comes in, even in poetry (Metre). Gaah!
Rhythm is important in life. Whether you are dancing or humming along. I do not know how my DNA got bound; I have no sense of rhythm. I should have got it right, even with my two left feet, given my lineage. For now, let’s blame it on environmental factors.
I wish I had paid more attention in class, 30-odd years ago. But it matters less. Learning without context is as good as not learning at all. Perhaps, poetry makes sense after you have seen enough sh*t in life.
It reminds me how much I love her. Though, the poem that I study, has nothing to do with love. Or, does it?
And you love me too
Your thoughts are just for me
You set my spirit free
I’m happy that you do
The book of life is brief
And once a page is read
All but love is dead
This is my belief
~ Don McLean, And I Love you So
But, then, love never had to worry about boundaries and categories and structures. Thankfully.
Thank you, dear poem.