Poet the poem

Earlier in my previous entry I had posted about the properties of words which is ‘words aren’t just words’. The principle of ‘words aren’t just words’ properties explains that it could be misleading, misunderstood and misjudging. You could check the evidence I fasten along back then.

And this time, the topic is words again. When I say I’m the type who looks beyond words, I actually didn’t mean to smug. It’s not even a talent; it’s just a habit of me interpreting words, and eventually leading me to come out with my own theories. It might not give any benefit to me or to anyone out there, but simply for self-satisfaction.

Not only am I the poet, I’m the poem.

Literature-wise the line holds some meaning. Let’s take a look at it in 2 aspects; figurative meaning and literal meaning.

Figurative meaning
It’s easy, the persona is telling that he’s not just the one who writes the poem, but he as well is the poem he wrote.

Easy? It sure does. Now let’s take a look at the literal meaning

The persona is trying to say that he didn’t write the poem for fun; instead he’s trying to express himself through the poem. Or in short, the poem is all about him. Well if you ask me, I would say that’s one of the ways the poet tells without even telling. To put it in general, there are 2 types of poet; the one who writes based on his observation, inspired by other people’s grief and joy. And another one is who writes based on his own experience, throwing his personal emotion on paper. Which of course if it is famous poets we’re talking about, either way is fascinating and obviously the line ‘Not only am I the poet, I’m the poem’ is quoted from the second type of poet.

Done with the elaboration, move on to examples

Type one poet

Stand still. The trees ahead and the bushes beside you
Are not lost. Whenever you are is called here
And you must treat it as a powerful stranger
Must ask permission to know it
And be known

-Lost by David Wagoner-

The type two poet

Call me strange
Whatever I do
No matter what I say
I’m still me
That doesn’t change a thing
Call me weird
So what if I am
Is that such a sin
Call me different
Because that’s what I am
Just don’t lie
Call me what I should be called
Me

-Teen Poetry by Bridget Cohen-

What inspired me blabbering?

Ps: It's good to be home