Why Poetry?

Okay. Out of the depths I arise with new blog posts and I choose...poetry?

Even I'm a bit perplexed by my sudden interest in the poetic again. I have literally not written a line of poetry (save for one poem as part of a wine drinking contest that I really shouldn't go into here) since college.

Perhaps love? Perhaps the absence of said love? Perhaps my struggles with mortality?

I could go with any of these cliches. And I would probably be truthful. But my motivations run far deeper. And believe me, I know all about hiding the truth behind the careful application of partial truths.

So why poetry?

Perhaps if we call them "riddles" we'll get closer to the truth. Because my true motivation for turning to poetry is not to deliver noble insights, but to wrap my feelings in poetic riddles, fearful of how their prose counterparts might be perceived. Speaking plainly would be too obvious and expose far too much. So instead I craft carefully worded puzzles for you all to unpack.

Not so romantic when it's put like that.

In fact, there are some poems I fear even to let you unpack, so they stay safely here on my hard drive, rather than yours. Maybe someday I'll let you see them. But not today.

So poetry. Such a beautiful artform. But in unpacking these feelings I have to wonder, is this the true motivation of every poet? If so, it seems that the greatest poetry is still that which is made clear to another person, without fear...which really is no poem at all. It's just honesty.