A different kind of "blog," consisting of selections from my scribblings over many years. The date of each post is the date I originally wrote that piece. So, the top post is usually not the latest post, because I continually add writings from different years to the blog. If you have visited here before, you are likely to find new posts anywhere on the page. I'll continue to add "new" posts as my time allows.
29 September 1982
What poetry is
I have been reading some poetry the past few days, or more exactly a chronological anthology of English-language poetry. I had always simply assumed that poetry is an expression of some kind of sublime experience, that poets are transcendental visionaries. Beyond this assumption, however, I had never, it seems, given the subject any serious thought. The majority of the poems I have been reading have been love poems of one sort or another. I am beginning to believe that love poetry is nothing but a means for the poet to persuade his female acquaintances into his bed. The reason I am coming to believe this, seems to be that what poets in general, though there are perhaps a few exceptions, say about their "beloved" seems to be just general compliments that seem only meant to please the other person -- as opposed to the expressions of the poet's feelings about the other person as a unique individual.
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