Over the last few days, I have been intrigued by the many poetic posts on social and print media which, got me thinking; is there something about war and pain that drives us to write poetry? I see friends, neither wordsmiths nor linguaphiles, dishing out thought provoking couplets, stanzas, sonnets and ballads with ease.
Everyone is waxing lyrical about the perils of war, lauding our leaders, saluting the resilience and courage of the nation’s defence force and offering support wholesomely. Why not, I say?
Writing is cathartic as is reading good poetry. It allows us to express grief in a way that mundane language cannot which, explains the panecea of poetry as a tool; to take abstract, chaotic feelings and confront them with structure and form. Psychologists often use the phrase ‘name it to tame it’.
The unexpected situation of the last few weeks which, has disrupted our normal lives surely demands a more evocative, descriptive style to process pain and find meaning in the madness.
I am not into poetry writing per se though, I did dabble with it in my heydays, penning limericks for close friends, that was both appreciated and slammed in equal measure.
Regardless, I now find myself leaning towards reading and attempting to write poetry again!
Poetry supposedly provides us an outlet to contain suffering and transform our lives into shared human emotions. Often, the ‘best’ poetry happens when a writer is open to an experience and devoid of all pretense to tell the truth about it—whether that truth is a shattered heart, agonising angst, profound peace or a passionate appreciation for life.
The key, however, lies in its subtlety and there’s a word for it too; ‘Synecdoche’, meaning a small part represents the whole tragedy. i.e. rather than mentioning the ‘fear and anguish’ one could simply say ‘white knuckles clasped’, understated yet concise. The essence is the same but the expression? Softer in tone making it easier to accept and absorb.
Therein lies the beauty of poetry. It stirs a sea of emotions and vivid images that compel us to pause, reflect and interpret it in myriad ways based on our own personal experiences.
No, I am going to spring into verse now, not just yet! Maybe ponder wistfully on a shared loss of security as we weather this storm together – tired, yet optimistic that the dark clouds and screeching sirens above will eventually clear and ‘this too shall pass’ as every storm does. Oh yeah, cliched but true.
So, while we wait for peace and happy days to return, let’s all celebrate ‘resilience in rhyme’; find solace in writing, reading and revelling in the works of great poets of yesteryears and also relish the modern style of the many new age bards amongst us.