Yesterday, when I said I don’t understand poetry, I lied. it was a relatively small lie–I really do not get poetry–but there is on instance Where I did get it. This was when Gwendolyn Brooks read her poetry at Beloit. That was amazing.
I have never really been able to understand poetry. It’s a failing of mine that I’ve never tried to correct either. When pushed I can write a haiku, but I wouldn’t really call that being a poet, or understanding poetry.
I’ve tired a few times. I remember in high school reading poems by Pushkin because of a National Geographic article. In college I figured I should read more Yeats given my love of all things Irish, but I know I didn’t fully appreciate it. As a full fledged adult, I haven’t read any poetry outside of Will’s Haiku Year.
Folks, I want to read, and really comprehend, a poem. Link it here.