How I learnt to read poetry

In hindsight, I think my woefully neglected childhood education in poetry was a boon. In school, poetry mostly irritated me. I had no ear for rhyme and rhythm (but then again, nor was I taught to listen for it) and the maddeningly unclear and ambiguous words and tone grated on my nerves. How was I supposed to “explain” what the poet meant when it was mostly a spew of stilted words strung together for a whim ?

Now, I have learnt not to hanker after each and every word. I have learnt to let them go and instead listen to the music made by their departing feet. I see images but no longer care whether they are what flashed in the poet’s mind. I no longer absurdly try to bind the poem steadfast to the words on paper. And miraculously, language is not a barrier anymore and every poem is an experience. I am free, to read poetry.

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2 Comments on “How I learnt to read poetry”

  1. krithya G Says:

    ” the maddeningly unclear and ambiguous words and tone grated on my nerves”…. How I wish I had been taught how to appreciate rather than understand poetry. I could have started this beautiful journey with words earlier than I did.

    • ideallaedi Says:

      I think you are doing a wonderful job even if you think you started a bit late 🙂

      And sometimes I feel, reading poetry needs some maturity so maybe the journey HAS to start late. Maybe youth is too restless to be happy with vague glimmers…


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