Poetry Snobs Need a Hobby

Oh, hi there... excuse me if I seem a bit miffed... or peeved... ticked off, whatever you'd like to call it, but I'm going to make a big mistake here.

"Pray tell? What mistake is that Mr. Cat?" Well it's this one; I have again been drawn into the never ending banter about poetic form. I try and avoid this discussion like most people avoid talking about politics or religion (two definite no win subjects), but somehow I always end up having to give someone an accounting of what "I think" about the subject...as if I was the grand exalted sultan of the written word; I ain't!!

With that said, I will now give, hopefully (ha!) for the last time, RCat's thoughts on what constitutes poetry; for this I humbly apologize in advance Now Bare with me...this may not be all that funny, but it is about as close to real thought as I can get and that alone should strike you as very funny indeed.

Imagine this: Lace cuffed dandies sniffing snuff and smelling of lavender water and rose hips.

This is a classical caricature of “pantywaist poets of yore” that adhered to a tradition of rhyme and imposed form. Today this type of poet seems to be the disdain of anyone who fancies them self a poet of the new millennium. A sad view in my estimation, for there is a great deal to be gained from form and discipline.

Ah yes, we all have heard the contemporary argument that this “old style” is all so droll and antiquated: “man stifles without growth and growth cannot be achieved without throwing off the tenants of form and discipline.” Therefore, anything that can be translated into a visual medium for the purpose of self expression is a legitimate candidate for inclusion as poetry; this is what a great deal of people would have us believe, but please, lets hope not.

It is indeed fortunate that we live in an era that allows readers and writers to chose their own “poetic poison.” We do practice this choice, but I am afraid it is not without a continual pounding by a rather vocal group of the self-absorbed. Even in today’s plethora of “free verse” poetic forms, there is a need for discipline and thought. Yet, if the current offerings being extolled as the “best of contemporary poetry” are weighed on merit and not just on the parroted adulation afforded them by an often unthinking and lemming like group of poetic wannabes, it is time these same people did a bit of homework.

Using painting as a well worn and often used metaphor, Picasso did not arrive full-blown with his acclaimed abstract masterpieces without knowing how to draw or to paint in the classical tradition. He knew how to think, how to arrange the basic precepts of his craft far before he ever started manipulating them to demonstrate his own unique style. If the poetic offerings of today were done with the same attention to detail, there would be no argument about “what is poetry.” There would be no attacks on “rhyme” or “antiquated style,” only the mutual respect for the medium.

I heard one of the members of a rock group called Duran Duran in an interview say, “Oh I’m so damned tired of hearing about the Beatles and how our sound is much like their sound. Forget them, they’re history, lets get on with tomorrow!” I think I can understand the mans angst about being compared with something that came before, but to deny the existence of what has come before or what impact it has had on them is tantamount to a lie.

Poetry is much the same to me. I feel that no matter how avant-gard a poet chooses to write, they still have a responsibility to pay tribute to those who came before them. The only true way for a poet to do this is to reflect what they have learned from these past poets in their own writings. It may well be in the future that the poets of the day will be doing the same thing with what they have learned from the poets of today.

Well, there it is, I've thrown myself into the shark tank, I'm bleeding profusely, and I sense a feeding frenzy in the making. Guess I'll go pour a couple a' fingers a' Cuervo and wait for the assault...nothing like a little self medication to anesthetize the ol' Cat before he gets a thorough chewing. Cheers! – Please, be quick, but gentle.

Your faithful reporter - RCat