Maya Angelou once said (I’m paraphrasing) ”the purpose of all life is to be able to live like a poet one day.” She went on to say that since poets already live like poets, their lives were not a postponed project, but the-ultimate-goal-realized by default.
How many times we have heard of those retirement dreams… the narratives that inevitably start with ”one day I’d like to …” and continues with a description of one idyllic state or another… a beach house in Key West… playing golf eight hours a day in Arizona… buying a summer house in Florida and moving for good… writing (ah, at long last) that great novel, the chapters of which are lying somewhere inside those moldy cardboard boxes in the basement… to take the oath of chastity and join a monastery or a yoga ashram… take that trip to the Far East… or perhaps even to throw oneself with passion into a cause that is much larger than one’s own limited life, like a political party, a crusade, a fund-raising juggernaut perhaps … on and on.
But underneath it all the aim is to arrive at that sublime state of inner peace and gentleness, something ill-defined but real, fuzzy but warm, a feeling that we feel is our birthright. Underneath it all don’t we all point the gyroscopes of our lives to that nebulous state of elation and redemption that we sometimes refer to as ”poetic” ?
The rest is mostly a life-long process of branding ourselves as a desirable product in this increasingly globalized and fickle marketplace.
A brand is a total image with a price, a consistent package with defined and perceived borders. We are engineers. Attorneys. Machinists. Singers. Doctors. Teachers. Experts. Go-to guys. Ministers. Project managers. Historians. Curators. Tank drivers. Chefs. Shrinks. Plumbers … and, yes, Poets. Poets come in branded varieties as well. There is even a ”Poet Laurate” for the whole United States (for the last few years we were extremely fortunate to have Billy Collins and Stanley Kunits and Ted Kooser as the PT Person).
All branding by definition shuns contradiction and ambivalence like a plague.
Fuzzy logic is fine for hi-tech digital cam-recorders but not for the experts that command healthy speaking fees. CEOs and four star generals are not supposed wear their troubling questions on their sleeves. Researchers at NIH do not get grants and medals for not knowing what to do in the face of a new virus strain.
If things do not make sense outside a certain framework, then a branded professional knows how NOT to step outside that framework. A brand provides reproducible solutions to carefully-worded questions. Existentialist panic does not command a premium price on the capitalist auction block.
Poetry, on the other hand, is a vulnerable exploration into everything that is left out by branding. It has no guarantees. No guidelines.
You can certainly encourage people to write poems. But I’m not sure at all if you can ”teach” how to write poetry with the kind of money-back-guarantee bravado that is commonplace for a successful brand.
It is the only Odyssey that each person has to take all alone, go out and wander in the world, meet his demons, take them on one by one, beat them and return home victorious… only to do the same all over again the very next day.
Poetry, to use an analogy that Billy Collins has used in an Alaskan Quarterly Review interview, is like finding something curious sticking out from the sand in a desert and removing all that sand to discover the rest of the intriguing object. In that, poetry represents a vast freedom to rediscover all that is hidden from or by power.
Poetry upholds all the in-between states and ambiguities censored by branding. So it is subversive by default.
However in that subversion there is also a deep affirmation of the most basic human value of all – freedom. That’s perhaps the only thing branding cannot buy and sell in the marketplace. A brand’s power depends only on consumption. Poetry, on the other hand, is free the moment it is produced.
Our world needs more poets get into branded power play. Certainly someone like Leopold Sedar Senghor, a poet who became a statesman, will be remembered for his uplifting and dignified approach to international conflict. And conversely, I hope more branded professionals get into poetry as a way to humanize the market place of good and services.
What if the United Nations held a Poetry Workshop for one day of the year, with mandatory participation for all heads of state?
What if everyone in the world voted for the best Power Poet of the year through the internet and the winner was declared on Valentine’s Day?
Or what if Fortune 500 companies had poetry classes for their managers? Wouldn’t that be the ultimate out-of-the-box thinking and problem-solving bonanza on steroids?
And what would happen if before one country attacked another, the presidents and top generals from both sides were forced to lock themselves in a room and write at least one poem, expressing why they hate the “other guys” and why they must fight? What if those poems were then distributed to the citizens of both nations and the world? Perhaps they would still go on and fight. And perhaps, just a tiny little shivering perhaps, they would not.
Without poetic possibilities, branding easily degrades into a repetition of the past. If you are building a bridge, repetition of the past experience might actually be a beneficial discipline since no one wants to re-discover trigonometry every time there is a river to cross.
But in much more complex affairs of the heart, of which I consider international politics to constitute just a small subset, the vulnerable freedom of a poem could be the only thing standing between our endangered humanity and the discovery of our birthright freedom — and even perhaps salvation.
Source by Ugur Akinci