At Understanding Poetry
I know very little about poetry. But I have been trying to understand the form. Some poems I get. Most I don’t. I often resort to what the others have said about the piece before making up my own mind. So much so, I no longer know what I instinctively feel about a piece. The next few posts will attempt to strip away with the noise and simply listen to my own senses. And you’re welcome to join in.
This is what we will do. I will post a piece of poetry without revealing who wrote it. Please resist temptation to google for the poet’s name and comment what you think of it. And let’s compare notes.
Here’s the first…
We see this empty cage now corrode
Where her cape of the stage once flowed
The fiddler, he now steps on the road
He writes ev’rything’s been returned which was owed
On the back of the fish-trucks that loads
While my conscience explodes.
What do you think? Befuddling rhyming nonsense? Or some deep, deep philosophy?