Poems about poetry itself
An Ars Poetica round up this Friday!
Tell me your favourite poems about writing poems.
The love poems to poetry itself.
Share with us the poetry that you have written about writing poetry (perhaps written this week, as per our writing prompt, or at any other time). Why are you drawn to this art form? What does it mean to you? What does it do to you?
Here are a few to get us started:
Below is the last verse of The Perfect Poem by Kaveh Akbar, it’s worth heading over to read the full poem here.
Also this week, I learnt that Ars Poetica is a thing. From the Latin, “the art of poetry,” an Ars Poetica is, ‘a poem that makes a statement about the nature of poetry.’ For anyone else who hadn’t heard of it before (is this where you all say, yeah we knew that Nelly?) I enjoyed reading a little more about the Ars Poetica, as well as other mesmorising examples, over here. Well, if I don’t now want to roll these words around my mouth a little longer.
Turns out that this is then (I think?) what we are doing this week. Writing an Ars Poetica. Of sorts.
Oh how much I enjoy the learning.
And the reading.
Over to you…
Nelly x
I wrote more here...
https://lisaandradez.substack.com/p/why-poetry
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I hadn't heard of Ars Poetica before either, but I like it! This is my poem:
Why poetry?
without it I have no place for my grief,
there is no home for my tears,
pain keeps crushing and breaking me.
I cannot talk about the things once passed
without poetry, in all its form.
I have no other way of shouting into the void
words that cannot be expressed
vocally, only making sense on the page
I am forced to write upon, as if
my fingers cannot rest until they
do the work of my heart.
Poetry takes my trauma and makes it
make sense,
it holds me,
undoes me,
makes me better
knows me, so well.
I am powerless without it, I ache
my stomach growling with hunger,
if I don't get enough, when I am unable
to write it, read it, live through it.
Poetry gives me a voice,
speaks through me and
makes me feel heard, and seen,
no longer invisible. I belong
my people are poetry people,
they get it, they know that
without poetry, I am nothing.
Interesting thread and replies here, Nelly. thanks for prompt. Here's 3 short pieces on poetry by Victoria Chang
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'The Poem'
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The poem wants light. The
poem is the spotlight. We can't
write poems while lit up by them
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'Watchers'
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A poem is published
It is posted everywhere
A tree drops leaves in secret
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'Words'
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I struck a bargain
with language. That I would not
abuse it or sell it, that
I would use it for
beauty. In exchange I will
die, while words live forever.
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I really connected with these pieces and found them after I had posted a piece on what poetry is to me - the bridge between - I called it 'Bridges of Invisibility' and posted it here:
https://theseainme.substack.com/p/bridges-of-invisibility.
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Here's another one 'The Waves are Shouting '
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https://open.substack.com/pub/theseainme/p/the-waves-are-shouting?utm_source=share&utm_medium=android&r=46rss
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When I started out writing on Substack late last year (I'm just a newbie to writing) I had scribbled a shopping list type word-spill that was helping me understand my urge to write. It's quite raw ... but here it is ...
https://theseainme.substack.com/p/why-i-write-a-reflection