Poetry is like Learning Piano
Writing poetry is like learning to play the piano if no one else around you knew how to play “properly.” That may sound a little confusing, so allow me to explain. Imagine that everyone who knows how to play the piano is whisked away to some euphoric haven and you are left behind with a desire to learn the instrument. You’re probably thinking that you will just read a book or watch a DVD. Well, let’s also assume that whatever takes them away also destroys all of those materials in front of you. All you have is a piano, a desire to learn, and the recordings of all your piano predecessors.
This situation would probably lead you to pressing keys to discover what “sounds good together.” You realize that you can mimic parts that you hear in recordings. You mimic, and then create variations of what you hear. Then you probably try to play something contrasting to what you hear. Soon you begin to play your own music that is simple at first, but as you play more and compare it to other music, you learn the nuances of the art and develop your own style. You play in multiple genres and all on your own. You have resurrected a dead art; applaud yourself.
Think of that when you write poetry. A poet is only as good as what he teaches himself to learn from others. Approach poetry with the mindset that there is no one alive who knows how to write poetry the “proper” way. Poets must take the time to learn how to write poetry. You learn from taking all that can from others and from intuition. Reading, writing, and reading about writing poetry is one of the best way to learn how to write poetry. Many of those before me say to learn the rules, and then break them. I say there are no rules, no nets, only those that you set for yourself. Write freely, write what you feel, write for others to feel, and write well.
0 Comments