Why I Write Poetry

Why I write Poetry

 

Fragments are scattered across the glass table,
Their fragility enticing order.
There are no completed pictures
For guidance, only part read
Manuals cluttering dusty shelves.

No one has worked out the
Exact number of pieces and
Most attempts to fathom are fleeting.

Those remaining, experience
The slice of the scalpel, opening
To the core and laying
Them bare to investment.

When the puzzle is solved,
Poetry dies.

Β© Davy D 2017

40 Comments

A thought provoking analogy. I shall ponder this all day.

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This is just amazing! πŸ˜€

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Well put, Davy. Words, thoughts, ideas. An amalgam of potential for the poet. It is the art of connecting and ordering these that entice us to continue searching for that elusive resurrection.

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‘Amazing’ is right–very interesting summation to a brilliant piece.

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A puzzling idea indeed…something every poet should reflect upon.

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Yeah, the miracle vanishes at all attempts to fix a name to it. Possibly the only difference between a coach and horses, and a pumpkin and mice lies in the eye of the imagination.

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I can’t keep up with all your great poems lately. Exceptional! When the puzzle’s solved poetry dies and life, as we know it, also ends.

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Amen to that! Good to know that people are talking about the damage such processes do. Love it!

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their fragility enticing order – as always there will be one line that says hey look at me! and this was it this time. I think I don’t ever want to know the final assembly or order. As you say when that happens then the poetry dies. Our thoughts are fragile pieces of ourselves traveling the journey of life and we share through our writing and when it is delivered back to us as an emotion expressed in someone else’s heart and mind it glues itself into the pattern we have been trying to create for the world to see a little bit of us, but our fragility is sometimes mistaken for weakness and our words used against us. I have been fortunate thus far that no one has been unkind with my poetry or stories and I continue to write, but have come across some friends who have been hurt by careless and malicious comments. and all they wanted to do was write about the pieces of themselves. Do they still continue to write? Once again lots if food fro thought from you. Love your reflections for today DavyD.

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    I love these thoughts and reflections Singledust. I think with all writers we expose our thoughts and emotions and send them out into the world. Those that choose to use those words against us only do so to mask their own fears and insecurities. It is one of the downsides to what we do. I am glad you enjoyed the reflections and thank you for taking time out to visit and comment.

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Davy, this is wonderful.

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the third stanza is so creatively apt. this is another thought-provoking piece from you, Davy! πŸ™‚

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Fantastic poem, absolutely loved it.
Do I see a connection here to your former career? The fragments of evidence collected, the detective trying to piece them together?

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Mr D this one hits me out of the gate. Connecting poetry to life. Life being a puzzle we are not meant to really solve and when we do, we die. Poetry is simply the metaphor of that story. When we finish writing about life because we have solved it we might as well be dead. Very nice poem.

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