I'm lying on a friend's bed. Another friend is beside me, and my head is on his chest and my arm is thrown over his shoulder. He's holding me, and we're simply lying there, enjoying the solid warmth of one another. I am glowingly happy, and I think, This is poetry. This one moment, taken out of my life, set against the background of his life. This is true, this is real, and this is poetry.
Of course, I don't move to go write this down. I'm altogether too comfortable, and my friend has his arms wrapped tightly around me. The moment will later serve as the starting of a poem about self-sacrifice, but that doesn't really matter. Words are only the way we communicate our personal poetry to other people.
It's almost easier to say what poetry is not than what it is. Poetry is not what is sold in books under "Literature". Poetry is not what is read aloud at gatherings. Poetry is never studied in class, and it is not rhythm or flow or nice words all ordered on the page.
Poetry, by its very nature, is an act. It is the moment, the motion of writing or reading or listening. True poetry brings you into itself. It's a perception of truth. It can be angry and raw, or it can be mellow and slippery. It is recreated every time it is read by anyone. If it does not evoke action, a feeling, a memory, than it is useless. It is mere words.
Poetry is the moment of flight after jumping off a building. Poetry has to be in a sense frightening. It confronts the reader, demanding of him that he pay attention. Listen. You are never the same after you have participated in poetry, because by your agreement to listen, you have changed something in yourself, if even for only a moment. You have made a discovery of your own poetry. That is the purpose of sharing one's words--to ask of the audience, Take this into yourself. Change it. Find what is true in it and make your own truth. But please, please, don't take it for granted. Don't let it wash by without thinking. It's more than that. It's so much more. It is I, the poet, and my truth. It is my moment. Make something of it.
Warning: side note
Guerrilla poetry: I received this in my mailbox the other day. No address, no return address.
For the Making of Belief
(to be used as many times as necessary to shore up a faltering faith)
needed: 1 self
1 morning/day/night
1 or more interesting places
1 or more good friends
Take self and friends clockwise to interesting places during
chosen time. Talk and rant and rave with said friends.
If you enjoy self, you are a believer.
Invite self back often.
Find new interesting places.
Find new good friends
Repeat.
Shake well before each use.