Poetry Hater's Conversion Page

Of all the wandering intellectual accomplishments of man, I think little else thrills me more than poetry. I guess you can tell from my own feeble attempts. I am now at the point where I am not quite sure how anyone could not like poetry. So I embark upon the missionary work of converting heathens to the light that is powerful human emotions contained in (usually), itty-bitty reading space. For those of you who need no saving, just read on and enjoy!

The Point Of Poetry I started writing poetry when I started running out of time to write stories. I found poetry to be a very convenient way to vent feelings, tell a story, convey a moral, and satisfy the itch to write. Poetry is handy in another way as well. Over the summer, I had to read Anna Karenina. It was masterfully written, but so long that I was just about rooting for the...not to give it away...the you-know-what to be over and done with. Poetry is usually short and sweet. It also carries a challenge with it. I mean, there are logically only so many descriptions possible in the English language when confined to rhyming. (yes, I realize not all poetry is). However, the English language is a vast abyss and poets haven't reached rock-bottom yet. There are always new, and better ways to express how you feel. And thinking about the rhyme forces you to think about your feelings and ideas. I give the following example by Lord Byron.... She Walks in Beauty She walks in Beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that's best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes: Thus mellowed to that tender light Which Heaven to gaudy day denies. One shade the more, one ray the less, Had half impaired the nameless grace Which waves in every raven tress, Or softly lightens o'er her face; Where thoughts serenely sweet express, How pure, how dear their dwelling-place. And on that cheek, and o'er that brow, So soft, so calm, yet eloquent, The smiles that win, the tints that glow, But tell of days in goodness spent, A mind at peace with all below, A heart whose love is innocent! Now, ignoring any femininst objections, or any disgust some might feel at lovey-dovey stuff, concentrate purely on the poem, and how he expressed himself. These are things you just can't say in real life, or in prose. It's like a commic strip for words. More later!

Poetry Websites

The Brit Poetry Collecton....Scittura Fresca
Richard's Poetry Library
Poetry.....This is a site built by someone from North Carolina University I believe.
UK Web Search Results....Poetry