to my dear and respected poets:
sometimes….no, make that lots of times….i have trouble understanding poetry. shakespeare and chaucer are lost on me. i do quite like e.e. cummings but mostly because he never capitalized anything. my poet friends are well aware of my limitations.
forrest gump said that “life is like a box of chocolates……you never know what you’re gonna get.” well, i think poetry’s a little like that, too.
there was a ton of chocolate in our house when I was growing up. my mother, a woman of taste, particularly loved godiva chocolates. a beautiful box of those sumptuous goodies was an instant path to her heart.
on top of each layer of those yummy chocolates we’d find a road map for what lay beneath. directions, if you will, for our munching enjoyment. you certainly didn’t want to bite into a hazelnut when you were longing for marzipan.
for example, you might read: “this particular delicacy is bathed in a dark swiss chocolate, blended with finely shaved brazilian walnuts, carefully layered with argentinian caramel and a hint of oak-aged scotch.”
those tantalizing, seductive words urged us to dig deep and understand what made that chocolate so good; to appreciate that little piece of candy intelligently, knowingly, happily. the godiva people did that for me and i wish poets would do that, too.
oh, i know a little mystery is part of the whole deal, but every once in a while, i’d love to be prepared before i take my first bite.
so, dear poets, please help me out a little. give me a few hints and clues as to what i’m meant to discover between the lines and the layers, under the lid of that beautiful box.
i think i might be able to savor the sweet stuff…and the journey… just that much more.