On poetry

When deliberating on poetry I don’t know where to start. As is the same while writing it, so it will be the same while criticising it; it will be almost mindless, it will not come off pretty to start with, but once done it will seem to actually contain something.

By mindless, I, of course, don’t mean without the gift and focus of thought, but more of a loosening of all that might be on one’s mind while trying to mind the poem. What will be left in focus will be what you will be trying to spill out onto paper, hoping you recreate to the widest extent; the content of your own mind’s image.

Think about what children and those with the slightest adventurous intellect have thought about as a mental game, I guess you could say: Can one ever experience, truly, how another individual sees the world, thinks about the world? I recline to a generality: that poetry is a great way to attempt to share a highly individual experience.

As life be filled with randomness and structure, pain and relief, hate, love and rhythm, all these sensory parameters… One should try to include as many of these as possible in poetry, if not at least to break them. Be mindful of them, even if you are not gonna mind them in your writing. Writing always reflects the writer.

Now, some advocate writing free of personal experience, through various methods of dissociating the writing process, and progress, from them as individuals, but there will always be a fingerprint somewhere, no matter how polished the piece