Poetry

I just wrote this one night, using one of my favourite poems as an example. Wrote it for no real reason. Could do with more work I'm sure, and it is a little rough. Maybe it will help someone.

Poetry

Poetry is creative, it's about using words to the best of their ability, and it’s about challenge the senses. Like with prose the senses are important and maybe even more so in poetry as if you can affect the reader through their senses you are adding more depth to your poetry. How do you employ the senses? How do you use words?

Well if you think logically or literally it could be fairly boring. A tree is a tree - or so it may seem though just saying "I saw a tree the other day." is of little importance. Was it a tall tree, a dying tree, a sapling...? Can you describe the touch, the harshness of the bark, the brownness of the branches, the swishing of the leaves? Can you link the tree with a metaphor with old age, with a new born? There are many ways to relate to talk about a scene and yet relate it to another subject. this adds more depth to the poem making it more than one dimensional.

Taking a look at The Forge by Seamus Heaney one can see how he plays on words, how he uses sounds and language beautifully to portray a child happening upon a blacksmith at work and his wonderment.

The Forge

All I know is a door into the dark.
Outside, old axles and iron hoops rusting;
Inside, the hammered anvil's short-pitched ring,
The unpredictable fantail of sparks
Or hiss when a new shoe toughens in water.
The anvil must be somewhere in the centre,
Horned as a unicorn, at one end square,
Set there immoveable: an altar
Where he expends himself in shape and music.
Sometimes, leather-aproned, hairs in his nose,
He leans out on the jamb, recalls a clatter
Of hoofs where traffic is flashing in rows;
Then grunts and goes in, with a slam and a flick
To beat real iron out, to work the bellows.

We are introduced to the darkness, a door that leads to a magical world. Though we are given a view to the outside first, of rust and decay- of idleness. Yet inside sound is heard - 'hammered anvil's short-pitched ring,' work is carried out here, and images of fireworks or a fire are made known 'The unpredictable fantail of sparks'. The unpredictable beauty exists here, that each spark, is like fantail- a shower of sparks though each unique and splendid. Sound is further evident, 'the hiss when a new shoe toughens in water'. Hiss is a good example of onomatopoeia where a word imitates the sound. Then there is the mythical magical quality that exists:

The anvil must be somewhere in the centre,
Horned as a unicorn, at one end square,
Set there immoveable: an altar

The anvil horned as a unicorn - an altar. Here we get images of the priesthood and the artform of a blacksmith that he is some divine figure hidden in mystery and magic. Where he expends himself in shape and music.

From his altar he readies himself like a preacher, preaching to a crowd, and with some sort of magic takes the shape his work, and makes music. A blacksmith in the mythical world is a greater healer. He is an ordinary fellow, hairs in nose though he is set in his ways. He remembers the clatter of hoofs now cars take their place.


He leans out on the jamb, recalls a clatter
Of hoofs where traffic is flashing in rows;
Then grunts and goes in, with a slam and a flick
To beat real iron out, to work the bellows.

He refuses though to give into change he goes back to work - grunts at change- slams door and goes to do real man's work, to work the bellows. To create magic. See how all that came out of a poem like that? A simple idea, a boy's fascination of something unknown and through language we were able to hear and see sights and sounds that communicated to the reader a variety of ideas and more than one subject giving it more depth. Now think if you were to just say, "There is a blacksmith, he beats iron, he is stubborn..." That is really straightforward language and doesn't really lend to the music quality that can exist in poetry.

Poetry is love of language do not just use words because you just want to fill a page. Use words like it was blood or something that you valued, do not throw words away. Think of poetry as an artform, as it is, challenge the readers. Make your readers see the world differently, not the ordinary. Challenge them to use their senses, to taste, smell, hear, see and feel. If you can do that- magic. Anything is possible.