About Poetry
BLOG SESSION
April 23rd, 2018
Welcome Poets and Poetry Lovers!
Today's Session will be about our favorite subject matter for all Writers who have been following along here on the Blog with our Sessions this month. In addition to taking Journal notes about our writing projects and current Novels that we are working on in Camp NaNoWriMo, we are going to dive into another area that many of the Writers here are focused on, and that is something near and dear to those who have the "gift" of a Poet's Pen. When it comes to writing many of you zone in on the genre of poetry.
About Poetry: Poetry is a form of literature that uses aesthetic and rhythmic qualities of language—such as phonaesthetics, sound symbolism, and metre—to evoke meanings in addition to, or in place of, the prosaic ostensible meaning.
I'd like to mention that many of us here started writing poetry at a young age because we learned about the likes of Edgar Allan Poe, Alfred Lord Tennyson, Langston Hughes, Maya Angelou, Emily Dickinson, Robert Frost, William Shakespeare, Walt Whitman, William Wordsworth, Oscar Wilde, and many others who captured our interest with their fascinating poetics.
Young Poet
As a child, your mind absorbs literary works with a sense of wonder at play. Visual images come to mind and help the young writer to see exactly what the poet is trying to relay with his or her poetic words.
It is very easy for children to learn to write poetry because they have been indoctrinated with Nursery Rhymes from an infant.
Everyone of us can identify with the Nursery Rhymes, "Row, row, row your boat...." and "Mary had a little lamb..." and "A Tisket, A Tasket"... and "Baa Baa Black Sheep"..., and the famous "ABC Song". Nursery Rhymes are in our memory banks.
We must also keep in mind that Music is a rhythmatic vessel awaiting poetic words to be applied ~ also known as Lyrics.
As you grab your Journal today to take notes on our Session . . .
Journal Notes
Please take a moment to think about some of your favorite Lyrics. If you simply read the lyrics without the music, does a poem appear? Do you hear the music playing in your head as you read the words to the song? Do the words (lyrics) inspire you to write poetry?
On the other hand, when you read poetry, does a rhythm form and begin to take motion like wings on a butterfly? Do you hear the sound of the poem? Does the beat of the poem become louder or softer as you read? When reading poetry, does your spirit tap in and meet the poet on the paper and in the air? Does your spirit "feel" the poet's meaning? Can you grab a hold of the emotions that are within the poetic words?
What exactly does poetry do for you as far as inspiration and motivation when it comes to the literary world? Does poetry touch your soul?
Do you consider yourself a Poet?
The Young Poet
(Thinks, feels, expresses)
Thought-provoking poetry is always inspiring. Take a Read...
Dream Deferred - Poem by Langston Hughes
What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up
Like a raisin in the sun?
Like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?
By Langston Hughes
Still I Rise by Maya Angelou
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.
Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.
Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.
Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.
Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.
You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.
Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?
Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.
Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.
Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.
Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.
Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.
You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.
Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?
Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.
By Maya Angelou
To all the Poets ~ You too shall rise.
Write your poetry and feel blessed as you do!
OUR NEXT BLOG SESSION:
Making Your Poetry Journal
Peace, Love & Light
By René Allen
©Copyright - René Allen - 2014-2018 - All Rights Reserved
