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Oh fuck, now it’s begun

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without her, it’s hard to remember who we are [insp]

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Bennett Young

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‘’You know something? When you're born into this world and you're screamin' and you're terrified and you're pink as a gum, the thing is, you think it's all for you. And that feels so good. But... when you get bigger, every year there's someone there to punch you in the gut and tell you, "No, it ain't about you. It never was about you. It's just random." I mean, I don't need it to be all around me, but I... it can't be just random. Can it? I'll be honest with you. That's why I listen to them boys there and Bessie Griffin and The Soul Stirrers, 'cause damn, they got... conviction. They got fuckin' conviction! They know something about something that I ain't figured out...’’

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Streets of Positano

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I’m going to tell you something: thoughts are never honest. Emotions are.

Albert Camus (via quotemadness)

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Poetry

Poetry can be divided into many - sometimes, it seems endless- categories based on their style, themes, motifs, epochs of their creation etc. But, to me, poetry is above all divided into to huge groups: the poetry that is worth reading and the poetry that is worthless. 

Unfortunately, the latter is made today more than ever, because any idiot can string a few words with some or no sense at all and publish a book. If the idiot in question is famous for something else rather than poetry, well, the book is almost bound to be a bestseller. However, I would lie if I would say that I did not encounter poetry written in the past - decades or centuries ago- which I also found to be of quite bad quality. Of course, this is entirely subjective. That is the beauty of the poetry, it’s individualistic spirit. A poem that seems like a master piece to me, might lack all virtue in the eyes of someone else.  Now, if we decide to overlook the group of what we perceive as the worthless poetry, we are left with a very large body quality poetry (praise the Lord). Here, we have the matter of personal taste: some people prefer sonnets, others might rather spent time enjoying elegies and ballads, while the third group could prefer the haiku poetry, or epic poems, or couplets. That aside, I would further subdivide this into good poetry and great poetry.

Good poetry is the one you can understand and enjoy regardless of what is going on in your life at the time. It is as simple as pick up a book from your shelf and start reading. This poetry is aesthetically pleasing, sometimes very deep as well, but it bring out the positive feelings in you. 

Great poetry, on the other hand, might not be valued as it deserved after the first read. Nor after the second, nor the third, maybe not even after dozens of reading. What would make you reread a poem you ‘’don’t even like’’ dozens of times, you might ask. Oh, well: that is where the greatness resides. 

I first heard of ‘’The waste land’’ reading a completely unrelated detective novel and it awoke my curiosity. I read the piece and was bitterly disappointed- I didn’t understand a thing. So, I left it and forgot about it for a while, and then I heard of it again and decided to give it another shot. I still didn’t understand too much but this time something was different- I was different- and I lived the poem in a completely different manner. The third time round, I could actually understand a rather big part of the poem. On my forth reading, I broke it down to verses and it took over a month to analyze every single one of them. Next time I read the whole thing, I had actually tears strolling my cheeks, unsure of the reason. And with the every new reading, I was able to comprehend it more and more, until one day I realized that the poem has became the part of me, of who I am. Aprils now smelled of the waste land, and the dust smelled of fear, and I was the most hypocritical lecteur of them all. 

In addition, I’ll leave you this great piece recited by T.S. Eliot himself: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CqvhMeZ2PlY

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