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Tuesday, October 25, 2011

The Craft of Writing Poetry

The Only Conclusion
I enjoy writing poetry.  Some may not call what I write poetry, or only superficially so.  How I know it is poetry is the sense that there is a right way to say something, and a wrong way.  When the words are on the page, the sound and sense together clearly are acceptable or not.  If not acceptable, trial and error iterations must continue until is all is well.  Sometimes I will return to a poem that I have thought complete, only to discover a glaring error.  Then iterations must continue again until there is peace of soul.  There is a Shakespearian play, All’s Well that Ends Well.  This has been called a problem play, an uneasy blend of tragedy and comedy.  After much study, this play brought upon me psychosis or insight.  The only way I could make it work poetically was through plot transformation.  In this case the language was set and unalterable (in the folio edition).  Interpretation of plot and reevaluation of tone were the only conceivable variables.  This brought upon me the realization that blindness in human nature is serious and pervasive—a good lesson to learn however dubious the occasion.

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