and thinking "what a load of crap". If you're not as deep, profound, and pensive as the average poetry lover (and poor you if you're not - they are better than us) the poem reads "A leaf falls. Lonliness." Apparently the layout of the text is meant to imply a leaf fluttering to the group and the "L" one its own between "one" and "iness" is meant to imply that we, as "one" are always alone. Yeah. That's deeeeep, man.
I wrote, I swear, in my notebook "A leaf falls. Get a rake."
Sure, sure, I loved Shel Silverstein and most nursery rhymes, lyrics to Celene Dion songs, etc. THAT is poetry. A nice A-B rhyme scheme, patterns, clear and implied meaning at every turn. Yep. That makes me simple. I'm fine with that.
Know what else I decided I hated not long after? Jazz music. Ugh. JAZZ music, Get you a black turtleneck and a clove cigarette and a goatee (not even an ironic one - and earnest one) and you are made for jazz. You can say things like "lick" and "riff" with ease. The tunes in your ears just sort of meander about. No form. Flow. Improv. Simplicity in complexity.
What do poetry and prose poetry have in common? Just about everything.
I've actually tried to figure out why I disliked these art forms (I am typically a great fan of any art or expression - even when it is not to my tastes or subjective views) and why so many others loved them almost to spite me. Three theories bubbled up . . .
- I was, despite my desire to the contrary, a left brain (we want to think that creativity and freedom live in the left side of the brain but that is reserved for order and rules) thinker.
- I was not old/mature/established enough to grasp freeform expression or the emotion in it.
- That stuff is just garbage that no one should like.