My feelings about poetry are similar to my feelings about philosophy. Most of the time I just don't get it. When I reach the end of a poem, more than half the time I land with a baffled sort of 'huh'. By turns incomprehensible, didactic, too floral, too long, boring, pointless, smug - nothing brings out my inner teenager like a poem. The times I do get it, it's like I have been sitting in a shoe shop trying on pair after pair of uncomfortable shoes when my foot slips into something that fits - total unexpected surprise, relief and joy. But it's rare. I guess I have mental bunions.
Daffodils
Daffodils
Daffodils
My feelings about poetry are similar to my feelings about philosophy. Most of the time I just don't get it. When I reach the end of a poem, more than half the time I land with a baffled sort of 'huh'. By turns incomprehensible, didactic, too floral, too long, boring, pointless, smug - nothing brings out my inner teenager like a poem. The times I do get it, it's like I have been sitting in a shoe shop trying on pair after pair of uncomfortable shoes when my foot slips into something that fits - total unexpected surprise, relief and joy. But it's rare. I guess I have mental bunions.