Mooncake

I don't have any particular reason for posting this here; I just got the urge to put it up. Here it is.



Reflection on Poetry

Poetry; a simple thing
Yet contested by so many
Like art; life itself.
-MOON-struck

Look at that crappy haiku. Isn’t it terrible? It was written by an amateur poet, a teenage boy who wants something he cannot have. Poetry is like that; in a weird, symbolic-y way. We search for the meaning of the poems that we study, that we read, and we will never find the true answer, the one that only the author knows. That statement (the one to the left, for those who might not be able to tell) is false; perhaps we might discover the answer after all. Maybe the author doesn’t even know it. I, as an amateur poet, or just a poet in general, have no idea what the hell some of my poems say. They just sort of… pop out, in an odd fashion. It’s more or less like thisà Muse: “Work to do? An essay, perhaps? Well, too bad. Go and write this.”

Me: “…Ok.”

More or less like that. I cannot write a poem while trying to write a poem. At least, it won’t be a good poem, if I can write it at all. Look at that contraction. I can’t (another one) avoid these, no matter how hard I try, and neither can other poets. Sure, you are not supposed to write with contractions (see what I did there?). Do most poets care about that? No. Why? Artistic license (and it sounds more natural). Suck it, English language: I’m going to crap all over you with badly written poetry, improper language, and contractions. Ain’t it grand?

Gentle dancers swirl freely;
Drifting through the clouds,
The wind ruffling their dresses.
Is it not the greatest thing,
To dance through the sky?


Look, another poem. It just spilled out, and I was unable to stop it, as usual. To be honest, I might be able to stop it, but why would I want to? Why would any poet want to stop their poems from springing into being? Why would any poet want to stop their pen from dancing across the page? I have no idea why someone would want to stop a poem from being written; it’s like a bird trying to leave a cage that someone keeps shutting. If you shut it, and put it away for too long, it dies. Boom. End of poem, end of thinking, end of creativity. Alright, actually I understand why someone might not want a poem to be published; promotes freedom, fascism, rebellion, monarchy, etc. But to be a poet and not write a poem at all? Even if it’s terrible (see the haiku at the top of this page for an example) it should still be written. Just hide it somewhere, or make it anonymous, or something like that. Poets write poems. Not writing poems is called not being a poet. Simple.

Oh, you don’t like that last bit in the last paragraph? What’s that, you don’t like the essay? Tough luck; bring it to someone who cares. Simply put, this essay, this paper, is an opinion, just like poetry. Poetry is art, art is an expression, art is easy to express opinions through, and so on. All poems are opinions. Now, opinions can be/become fact, but facts can’t be opinions. That is an opinion, right there. Poems are a way to express opinions, in a simple, complex, beautiful, silly way. A poem is an opinion, but Poetry is a contradiction. Look at the previous sentence, at the adjectives that were used. They contradict each other, don’t they? Poetry doesn’t have to make sense; look at some limericks, if you want to. Those are usually a pretty good example of poetry not making much sense, or being silly. Look at epic poems, if you want something complex descriptive. Look at haiku, if you want to see beauty combined with simplicity, invoking a sense of elegance.

The golden king resides
In a place we cannot touch.
A black dog rises, howling at the stars,
His fangs biting at the unreachable.
To think, such an animal would snap at a king!

Poetry can be intense, as well; no question about that. The above poem is one I wrote a little while ago, and decided to put it here. It represents a scene in a visual novel that I like, and I decided to try to represent it with poetry. The scene is an intense one, with Gilgamesh and Lancelot (long story) fighting each other to the death. The intensity, the weight of that scene can be felt easily, just like Cu Chúlainn’s death scene in the epic poem The Cattle Raid of Cooley, or Achilles fighting Hector in Homer’s Iliad. I suppose that what I am trying to say is that while poems can be bright, vibrant, and cheerful, they can just as easily be grim, dark, and depressing.

It is very hot.
My world has shrunk to fit this red place,
And everything within it.

See: there is a mother,
blackened hands reaching for her child.

See: there is a pair of lovers,
who died trying to protect the other.

See: there is someone's daughter,
reaching out as she is swallowed.

My name and thoughts are gone;
The red has swallowed my heart,
leaving the still moving body behind.
I look up at the red that swallows the world.

The charcoal people reach out for me.
They don't want to leave the red alone.
How can I put myself above them?
How can I leave when they cannot follow?
As I stop, I see a smile, a golden light.

I fall to my knees,
and it begins to rain.

That poem ends on a happy note, of a sort. It was made (by me) a while ago to represent another scene in the same visual novel as the previous poem. An example of a depressing poem based on a (fictional) scene (albeit one with a happy ending). Sadness is a good emotion to invoke, sometimes, and can be called forth just as easily as any other emotion using poetry. Poetry invokes emotions, scenes, and thoughts to the forefront of the mind (and is such a good word to use with invoke. Seriously, I’ve used invoke like three or four times, and I only avoided using it more because I wanted to avoid repetition).

This essay rambles quite a bit, mostly because it is a reflection paper at the end of the school year, and I can cut loose and write whatever I want without worrying (mostly) about my grade. This essay is contradictory, has weird breaks, and is a giant expression of my opinion.

Just like poetry.