On Poetry
Yesterday as I was working a coworker (loosely put) asked me to write a haiku. Ive heard of haikus and really had no intent to actually sit down and put pen to paper, or fingers to keys, and write something like that. There are two reasons for this: first, I didnt know what a haiku is/was; and second, I really dont enjoy the simple process of writing poetry. This does not mean that I do not have the ability; it does mean that I do not enjoy the act.
With that said, I went to Google and googled haiku. What I discovered I already knew, in that a haiku is a highly structured form of Japanese poetry. The first two links, though, appeared to respond like they were dead, and the third was a wikipedia (or wiki) entry at wikipedia.org. (Note: wiki is generally referring to a accumulation and distribution, often to a specific group, of information in the form of encyclopedic knowledge.)
Wikipedia.org then proceeded to offer a history of the haiku (you can review that here) which is interesting but not that interesting, to me.
Anyway, with the basic knowledge down, a haiku is not just a highly structured form of Japanese poetry it also follows a very specific pattern. Three lines of 5-7-5. If that doesnt make sense, count the syllables. Not all haiku follows the 5-7-5 rules and there are variations. Regardless, the poetry is still very structured and, from what Ive read, more metaphorical in sense than literal in meaning.
For example:
Frog leaps onto land
As lily pad floats on water
Tadpole swims away
A quick haiku. Is there meaning? Is it even a good haiku or even something worth writing about or mentioning? Dont ask me. I am jaded and have already stated I dont enjoy the process of writing poetry. You have to think too much: number of syllables, words, rhyming (where applicable), yadda, yadda, yadda.
So, I wrote some haikus and kept none of them. Ive got a file, in My Documents on the computer that holds only poetry. Every once in a while I cant seem to focus and then out comes the poetry. A few years ago I was dating a girl and shared some with her. One of her brothers decided he wanted to read some (without asking) and picked up the packet of poetry. There are poems that werent meant, even, for the girlfriend to see. And yet, there he was reading things I dont believe he had a right to be reading.
Someday I wonder if I wont be more famous for writing poetry than for writing fiction. One is a lot easier, in my head, than the other. In my lit 250 class today the teacher lamented the fact that people dont write like John Keats. He sat down and in the matter of a couple of hours wrote one of the worlds most famous poems, Ode to a Nightingale.
Sure, you know what, Im not likely to share my poetry and I wouldnt compare what Ive written to what John Keats has written, or anyone else (I dont much like poetry). However, the act of writing poetry, in my opinion, is not as hard as people make it out to be. At the same time, I dont think a lot of people who admire poetry have the ability to write poetry.
It seems, to me, that people who write and share poetry are a little messed up; but hey, I occasionally qualify.