poetry

Poetry. I despise it. I do like some of it, but mostly, NO. I don't mean to sound mean (talk of poetry) in any of this, but reading poetry almost makes me feel my head getting heavier with Iron (III) Hydroxide. I'd ask a personal favor to anyone doing a psychology PhD or something - Please do a dissertation involving understanding a poet's (modern/medieval doesn't matter) mind. I would really like to know what the fuck goes on in their minds.

Less ironically sounding, metaphorical sense makes the most sense to me. Actually, that's the only thing which makes sense. Anything else => Iron(III) Hydroxide.

Poetry, they say, can be on any topic (especially after Renaissance when poets apparently showed the middle finger to the conservative old fellows, and started writing poems about everything). The world, human feelings, nature, life, well, alright, a whole list of things. I find it hard to think which amongst these is the worst. But my guess would be, um, I don't know.

Well, I accept I'm incapable of understanding poetry, but still, I don't get the point. How can these fellows (Note that Fellows has 'Fe' = Iron) write lines that make no sense? Oh, I get the point, you poetry lovers, it does make sense, but not to me right? Yes. I get it I get it. But I'm sorry. I can't smile at you and clap at you when you ask me to understand how beautiful it is when a stone talks to you or a bark of a tree signifies circles of life or when a snake tells you how not to go on a straight path and other such nonsense.

Some songs have wonderful lyrics, again, mostly metaphorical. I have no problems when poems or lines make sense. It's only when they talk of the obvious, or force you to see the beauty in stuff like what I just mentioned above, it's pissing off.



Give me prose any day.

This post is a result of my frustration of having to go through some poetry of late.