For a few moments, I would like to don my professorial cap (the square one with the tassel) and posit two poles from which poetry may start: emotion and intellect. There are, of course, many other ways to discuss poetics, but these two seem at the moment most relevant, particularly in light of many postings on AP. But before the discussion, two assertions:
Neither is right.
Neither is wrong.
Most poetry would in fact fit nicely on a continuum between extremes, and it is perhaps impossible to write a piece that emanates exclusively from one or the other. But for the purposes of discussion, let’s begin there.
POETRY OF EMOTION draws most strongly, obviously, from the depths of the poet’s emotions: love, fear, loneliness, hatred. Such poetry has as a primary intention recreating that emotion, in many cases privately and personally; readers become in essence adjuncts to the process, at times even irrelevant to it. The poem is directed inward, to the poet’s core. It becomes a means of emotional adjustment, a way to extract a particular emotional state and express it directly.
Such poetry relies little on poetic conventions and greatly on experience. The poet speaks directly, often in first person, often alluding to private experiences readers are neither expected nor invited to share. In some instances, a specific, single reader might serve as audience—particularly in poems of love or loss—but more commonly even that reader is peripheral to the expression of deep, and often painful emotion.
Such basics of written communication as grammar, syntax, spelling, punctuation, sentence structure rank low on the poet’s scale of priorities, sometimes even perceived as hindering the ‘honest’ expression of emotion. Revision becomes antithetical to the purposes of the poem; to hold the poem up to scrutiny, to alter its white-hot rhythms and diction would be to diminish the authenticity of its emotional content. Such poeticisms as image, simile, metaphor, or symbol occur only tangentially, as it were, as by-products of the poet’s need to allow the emotion to surface.
POETRY OF INTELLECT, on the other hand, relies, equally obviously, on intellect; not on reason or rationality, per se, but on the conscious manipulation of them. The poem becomes a puzzle to create and to interpret. The poet becomes distanced in the sense that words become means to an end, tools by which to create a preconceived artifact.
Poetic conventions become the driving force behind the construct. Image and simile may occur, but more usually the more rigidly logical, objective tropes predominate: metaphor, with its conscious awareness and manipulation of similarities and differences between unexpectedly juxtaposed objects; and symbol, with its equal if not greater requirement of cerebral engagement to state effectively an idea not in fact present in the poem.
Such poems exploit the possibilities of form to the utmost, either traditional forms, including requirements of meter and rhyme, word or syllable count; or nonce forms in which free-verse lines express preconceived structures. Language similarly becomes a tool for puzzle-making and –solving, with acrostics, anagrams, palindromes, and other related techniques at times subordinating sense and meaning.
Again, I’m considering here extreme polarities possible in poetry. Most, if not all poetry, lies on the continuum between extremes; and much of the greatest poetry clusters near the center.
However, there is a point to be made by discussing these polarities. Much of the apparent discord that arises on AP between contest hosts and poets, between poets and respondents, between poets and poets may result from individuals not differentiating between two essentially antithetical purposes for writing.
I tend toward intellectual poetry, for example; it bothers me, and detracts substantially from a poem’s effectiveness, to see misspellings, grammatical infelicities, awkward or strained syntax (particularly in service of an equally awkward or strained rhyme). Form frequently seems preferable to free verse, since it automatically creates an intellectual challenge that I appreciate—how to communicate specific ideas, images, and, yes, even emotions, within the constraints of pre-existing line or stanzaic expectations. At the same time it provides relatively objective criteria for assessing poems: how well do they perform within those expectations. My own work tends to be formal…and at times it tends to be dispassionate, distanced, cold.
Others poets, however, equally if not more proficient and imaginative poets, tend toward emotional poetry. For them free verse is often preferable to form since it allows for, if not invites openly, overt expression of emotion. Niceties of grammatical conventions can be overlooked in favor of intensity, authenticity, excitement, and directness. Evaluating such poems becomes itself an act of emotion, of subjectivity: Do I like this poem? At the most distant extreme, that question might frequently supersede a more difficult question: Why do I like this poem?
There may be, as noted in the beginning of this consideration, many other ways to discuss poetry. But regardless of other options, it may be helpful to keep a couple of questions in mind when we approach a poem. What does the poet’s choice to write a sonnet, or a haiku, or meter and rhyme, or stripped-down free-verse suggest about why the poet wrote this particular poem? And about what can we therefore legitimately expect to encounter when we enter it? Taking a moment to identify a poem as essentially emotion-oriented or intellect-oriented may make the experience of reading poems more beneficial, more constructive, and ultimately more enjoyable.
There are many ways to discuss poetics, but two—emotion and intellect—seem particularly relevant, especially in light of many postings on AP
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I've read your entire column with relish sir. I've often thought that to the extent poetry can or cannot be judged, it is because there are so many forms, however you, in this article, have expressed yet another dimension, another perspective - that of emotion and intellect -
When I started writing it was purely rhyme but then I discovered the joy of free write. The fascinating truth for me was that in either case I attempted the impossible at least in my own mind and strode toward a personal best for its own sake. The result is that now I can cross over from one style to another when the prompt dictates. It's kind of like opening a door between the left and right brain.
Thank you once again for a very scholarly column. We are privileged to have such a mind as yours here at All Poetry.
Paul -
Wonderful intellectual observations to consider here. I’m fairly new, and finding my way. At first I wasn’t sure if I liked the idea of what at first glance seems to be ‘competitive poetry’. As you say, at times it can be almost like a version of Sudoku in a way. However, I’ve very quickly realised that there exists a great mechanism in here for stimulating creative writing, and an even greater mechanism for sharing it.
Stimulation in writing is a positive thing. Even the great writers of the past were extremely competitive in their own way, with some piercing comments being made by various poets about the work of their counterparts. Would it matter if Wordsworth’s finest were written for a competition? I believe not.
Good writing is good writing, and as I’ve alluded to, poets of the past were indeed competitive, vying constantly for recognition. Perhaps it is a romantic notion that words were emotionally conjured on the banks of the Lake District, in respect of the humble daffodil, and this may be part of the reason why a poem appeals. .Does the same romanticism appeal for a poem stimulated by another’s prompt, and similarly handcuffed by a word bank or other tethering restrictions. This is where it becomes more complex. Can the boundary become blurred between, what may for the sake of convenience be termed ‘true poetry‘, and what may be termed ‘contrived poetry’ targeted at a specific, and focussed, contest host? For my part, I’m amazed at the truly great writing in here, and when I read it the contest almost becomes superfluous..
Dylan Thomas’ Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night (my all time favourite poem, a villanelle) was inspired by his dying father. What part does this play in its greatness? Interesting!
I believe ‘form’ in poetry, to be an outcome of the evolution of the spoken word, and one cannot divorce rhythm, melody, and pattern from language in terms of its subconscious appeal. However, subconscious response is ’person specific’ in the final analysis, and a scheme of rhyme for example, may contain a sense of organisation that does not sit well with a reader, who may prefer the unrestricted liberation of free verse.
An additional complexity, is that of performance poetry. Often poetry may not read so well as a text to be translated mentally, but when performed vocally by the author, with all the nuances of stress control, timings and pauses, it may work wonderfully.
I think of an art gallery analogy. A huge exhibition of open art may contain realistic painting, abstract painting, derivative-school painting, primitive painting or naïve painting. What matters is the relationship the viewer forms with the painting. This is the case in poetry I feel. As text-speak creeps more and more into the English language it may even become acceptable to a specific generation, fashionable and even desirable. Some now see language used in older generations as out of date, such as ‘thee’ and ‘thou’.
Diversity is ‘key’ I think. To write a poem and share it, is a fabulous opportunity, and just think what this would have meant centuries past. What great writers have we missed? My taste in poetry seems to be undetermined, and I only become aware of it when I read something that sounds a gentle bell inside, the sort that tinkles when you enter a book shop. Greatness is accessible within me personally, from the pen of any writer in here, in any form, or style. It just has to ring that bell.
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One quick note. Not even the Romantic poets believed their ballyhoo about the "spontaneous overflowing of powerful emotions." I've got a fascinating book with photocopies of the early drafts of famous poems, from Milton's through the 20th century. It is highly informative to discover how meticulously Wordsworth and others revised in order to create the perfect sense of spontaneity.
And you are right about competitive poetry. It's not the competition or the prize; it's the trigger, the sudden discovery of a different way to write or a different subject, a single comment within a response that illuminates an entire poem. Those things are priceless.
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Ypu know I needed something like this to read when I first became a member of AP, now I think I am writing both ways. However this makes you take stock and see where direction should be and why. It's good to see it in form of contest ideals too, as sometimes I think many an otherwise excellent poem falls wayward of what the judge really wants from the contest. Very helpful column, well put Micol! Appreciated here.
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Agreed--each judge brings specific expectations to the contest, having written the guidelines and chosen theme, etc. So "winning" becomes to some degree a matter of chance, just as getting published is a matter of change: did I find the right reader/editor/judge, in the right mood, on the right day, at the right moment for my poem to be at its most effective. Even the surrounding poems effect the judge's response to any individual piece.
And that is as it should and must be. Poetry is art, not science. It can neither be written nor judged exclusively by external criteria. Two poet might use exactly the same words (albeit in different arrangements), the same line lengths, the same form--and the resulting poems will be as different as night and day. Only the judge will know which meets his/her personal criteria for excellence.
Which mean that in any given contest, each poem has the chance to be read by someone convinced that that poem, and that one alone, merits gold...or does not.
Glad you found the piece thought-provoking. It has thus succeeded.
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Wonderful column Michael. I think I have to personally to thank for the times I have tried to write both ways and have mixed them, you've helped me so much by pointing out certain aspects of my writing and how to improve them. This is a wonderful article that I'm sure will help many here if they read it, that goes for both the writer of the poems and the people who read them to get a better understanding of what they are reading. Thanks so much for sharing some of your knowledge here with us
Be well and be blessed
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I am glad it was helpful. That's what we are all trying to do here--help each other discover and refine our skills in expression. Thanks for reading it, and for you constant consideration.
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Never thought of my work in these terms
Having read your illuminating column, I am struck with the realization that I have been subconsciously striving to bring intellect to free verse and emotion to form, such as it is. Not sure if that's pig-headed, obstinate or creative. But you've made me aware of what I've been doing in my work quite unaware. Stimulating premise, micol, which has me thinking for the rirst time about objective approach to writing. That can't be bad.
A60sMan -
Great article, Micol. I tend to want to express direct emotions or ideas in my poems, but I very much see poetry as puzzle solving - finding the word with the right syllable count or sound. I tend to enjoy revising my poems.
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