Poetry is not dead. It is not pointless. And despite what might be a general belief, poetry is still very common, and very popular in today's culture. It just goes by another name: music. Or maybe I should clarify and say musical lyrics. The words to songs are poetry. I find myself fascinated by lyrics all the time. Phrases will jump out at me when I'm listening to the radio, and I have to look up the lyrics when I get home so I can analyze what they mean, and how they effect me.
In good poetry (and lyrics) the vocabulary and syntax is carefully thought out. The word choice, rhyme scheme, and rhythm are woven together to create a desired feeling, or to inspire a particular line of thought. A feeling or thought more elevated or more intense than just saying it in a normal sentence. Think about it.
The most powerful examples I can think of are hymns. I've probably heard all my life in Sunday School lessons and talks that we need to follow the will of the Lord and that doing so can lead us out of dark or unsure places; but, it never hit me so powerfully until I was in college and trying to make some important decisions about the future. I was feeling lost and unsure. And then the words to Lead Kindly Light:
Lead, kindly Light, amid th'encircling gloom;
Lead thou me on!
The night is dark, and I am far from home;
Lead thou me on!
Keep thou my feet; I do not ask to see
The distant scene--one step enough for me.
I was not ever thus, nor pray'd that thou
Shouldst lead me on.
I loved to choose and see my path; but now,
Lead thou me on!
I loved the garish day, and, spite of fears,
Pride ruled my will. Remember not past years.
So long thy pow'r hath blest me, sure it still
Will lead me on
O'er moor and fen, o'er crag and torrent, till
The night is gone.
And with the morn those angel faces smile,
Which I have loved long since, and lost awhile!
These verses described beautifully, concisely, and exactly what would have taken me pages and pages of prose to work out. And they did it much more powerfully than I would have been able to. And I was at peace, I knew what to do. That's the power of poetry.
And it's everywhere. I could spend all day trying to convince you of the importance of poetry. :) We could even get into the nitty-grittys of rhyme and meter. And how if used well, those elements create a music all by themselves, that has a literal physical presence in the poem...but I won't. ;) I will say though, that my two favorite poetic elements are probably juxtaposition and metaphor. People who can use these tools well create sheer magic on a page.
But I'll get of my poetic soap box. The reason I started this post in the first place is that Aaron found my Creative Writing folder from college tucked back in the dark recesses of our computer's hard drive. And I've been having a lot of fun going through it.
Some things you should know before I begin. #1 I do not consider myself to be a talented poet by any stretch of the imagination. I'm a lot better at breaking apart and analyzing poems other people have written than I am at creating anything meaningful of my own. And #2 I do not take my college sophomore self seriously. I didn't then, and I don't now. The poem I'm sharing is just for fun, so laugh at it, be weirded out by it, whatev...it's just a random poem I wrote for a class while I was dating Aaron.
On that note, I'll begin with a confession.
Confession: I kissed three guys before meeting Aaron. I do not feel guilty about this, since I hadn't met Aaron yet. I mention it only because it relates (in a big way actually) to this story and my poem.
So there I was, a college sophomore at BYU, dating the very handsome, and impressively intelligent Aaron Swan. We hadn't been dating very long. I'm not even sure if we were "officially" dating at the time this poem was written. But I do know one thing: We hadn't kissed yet. I know this, because I was specifically thinking about what it would be like to kiss him when I was supposed to be trying to brainstorm an idea for a poem to write for my Creative Writing class. I wasn't sure if I liked him enough to kiss him yet. I wasn't sure if I wanted to be that committed yet. Nevertheless, I was still curious about what it would be like to kiss him. :)
That got me thinking about what it had been like to kiss other people for the first time, and how kissing isn't always all it's cracked up to be. That's when the idea struck: I'd write a poem about first kisses, with a verse for every first kiss I'd experienced, plus the one with Aaron that I was anticipating. I tried to chose words to describe the kisses that also had something to do with the personalities of the boys in question. I thought I did an ok job, although the stanza about Aaron is a little bit too stiff. It makes me laugh to think about it now.
So, I wrote the poem, turned it in and didn't think much of it. However, the next class period my professor had chosen it as one of the ones he wanted to copy onto a clear plastic page, and put up on the overhead projector to have the class analyze and discuss out loud together.
Side note: I hate to be the center of attention in a crowd. Especially a crowd of people I don't know. And I hate to talk in front of people when I haven't prepared what to say. (i.e. I love to speak in Sacrament meeting, but hate to give announcements.)
Moving on, my professor has me stand up and read my poem for the class. I'm blushing from the roots of my hair to the tips of my toes. And then he asks, "So was the inspiration for this coming from real life experience?" I was so mortified, because the answer was yes! But of course, I said no (I'm sure everyone knew I was lying) and sat down as quickly as possible.
I was so embarrassed about the poem, that I never showed it to Aaron. And looking back on it, I think it's funny that it embarrassed me so much. My classmates gave it decent reviews, and generally seemed to enjoy the poem. And more importantly, I got a good grade on it. And maybe most importantly, I did eventually get kissed by Aaron for the first time.
Anyways, here's my poem:
FIRST KISSES
by Krystal Lemmon
I
Robbed
Snatched from
underneath my nose
Dead skin and
cracked lips
Braces and bits of
PB&J sandwiches
A sloppy dentist’s
rinsing/vacuum tool
All in one breath
II
Rookie
First time in the
major leagues
Timid approach and shaky
delivery
Jerking away on
contact
Like a batter tips
the inside fastball
Holding his breath
III
Smooth
Mutually awaited
Moistened cream
caressing a strawberry
Not overly sugared
but real maple syrup
Natural and
graspable as stars and time
Matching my breath
IV
Logical
Precise, iambic,
structured
Male and female over
time: osculation
Four red puzzle
pieces placed by
A chemist who
measures exactly
Every calculated
breath
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