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Posted

Well, it has been a major art form in most cultures for millennia, and it also has a strong musical component -- sonic structures at work in time.

For example, this by Emily Dickinson (the second stanza makes me think of Bix, for obvious reasons):

I would not paint -- a picture --

I'd rather be the One

Its bright impossibility

To dwell -- delicious -- on --

And wonder how the fingers feel

Whose rare -- celestial -- stir --

Evokes so sweet a Torment --

Such sumptuous -- Despair --

I would not talk, like Cornets --

I'd rather be the One

Raised softly to the Ceilings --

And out, and easy on --

Through Villages of Ether --

Myself endued Balloon

By but a lip of Metal --

The pier to my Pontoon --

Nor would I be a Poet --

It's finer -- own the Ear --

Enamored -- impotent -- content --

The License to revere,

A privilege so awful

What would the Dower be,

Had I the Art to stun myself

With Bolts of Melody!

Posted (edited)

There's no requirement, it's just 'of a piece' with some other stuff of yours...

I'm not sure how.

By 'I don't get poetry' I just mean it's not something I've ever warmed to. A result of my particular context; I wouldn't for a moment dispute its power as equal to other forms of entertainment like painting or music. And appreciate its enormous popularity. Nor would I rule out the possibility that one day I might 'get it' (as I frequently suddenly 'get' music that has left me cold for decades).

I think I'm just too impatient to linger (not too keen on short stories either); prefer novels where I can enter a world that is sustained and developed for a lengthy period.

There have been poems I've come to enjoy. Did Dylan Thomas at school and it went right over my head until just before the exams when it clicked. Often it's hearing them in a musical context that clicks them open for me. Despite having read widely on WWI I never connected with Owen, Sassoon etc until I heard things like the War Requiem.

Idiosyncratic, I know. Might be connected with the fact that I come from the generation that was still forced to learn by heart and recite poems about things I didn't care about - one about the Battle of Lepanto springs to mind.

Edited by A Lark Ascending

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