“Poetry at its best can do you a lot of harm.”
— Sylvia Plath
This quotes is intriguing, isn’t it? Sylvia Plath remains one of the prominent figures of a poetic swan who loved to paint dangerous pictures with her darkening wings. She has often described writing as a reflex she itches to let out rather than a harmless leisure activity. Because at the end of the day, that is what sums up poetry.
Poets have a fascinating way of viewing the world. Some view the world as a field of daffodils while others elucidate it as a burning hell field. And both of them are right.
Poets have quite a unique talent of bending words in such a way that it forgets it’s identity. They are no longer words. They are plasma creeping into your life and searching for the right time slot to boast it’s relevance. Some verses cling to you and stay with you for a lifetime, often showing up when you need it the most.
He asked, “What makes a man a writer?” “Well,” I said, “it’s simple. You either get it down on paper, or jump off a bridge.”
- Charles Bukowski
Wicked metaphors and comparisons often find their way into a lot of prominent works. Taking superficial items of our daily routines and transforming it into a hauntingly beautiful permutation is an absolute favourite.
“I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn’t quite make out.
I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn’t make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.”
― Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar
Take time to read this extract from Sylvia Plath’s ‘The Bell Jar’. Who would have thought that a stray fig tree could be of such poetic beauty.
Poetries provide a needed platform for honest expressions brimming with passion. Countless verses of poetries have often been used as patriotic symbols and pristine visions. They convey a uniform emotion that can reach a large audience.
Poetries often become delicious to read with a unique accomplice, adjectives. Writings become interesting to indulge when an unexpected adjective comes along hand in hand with verses. It helps in amplifying the emotions and the baffled rawness of it’s veins. But too much adjectives can do you more harm than good.
“Writing is easy. All you have to do is cross out the wrong words.”
- Mark Twain
This one’s a favorite
“Substitute ‘damn’ every time you’re inclined to write ‘very;’ your editor will delete it and the writing will be just as it should be.”
- Mark Twain
Well that’s the thing with poetries and writing in general. You read the work of someone you don’t even know but suddenly they feel like a friend, a neighbor, a person you know or yourself. Reflections are very common in poetries and there are countless times when a stranger gurgling their feelings can influence someone on the other side of the globe. Works such as these act as medium to connect lives and make us all realize how similar we are.
Ending it with a Charles Bukowski
“An intellectual says a simple thing in a hard way. An artist says a hard thing in a simple way.”
― Charles Bukowski
