A discussion took place here and here on the sharing, criticizing, and commenting of poems.
It seems the subject came up as a poet questioned whether or not that one should
share their poems with the public or not and how criticism affects a poet.
My first reaction to this plane of thought is to raise the question,
“Who and What do you write for?” Do you write for yourself,
for others, or maybe both? Do you write for fun, for money,
or just for the release? Do you write to find yourself,
to let others find you, or to guide others on their own self discovery.
Everyone has their own reasoning as to why they write poetry.
I would suggest asking yourself these questions, and determine
your driving force. Upon, sharing your poem to the public, it becomes open
to discussion through the readers perception(s) of the poem.
This is a given, and should be understood from the moment that you make your
Whether to make your poems public or not and the value of doing so
can be determined by your answer to “Who and What do you write for?”
and how well you can handle the readers perceptions of your poems whether they
be what you intended through your poems or not. Some may argue that they
don’t want to pollute or influence their unique writing style from others
critiques. However, who can say they have not already been polluted and molded
from their everyday environments making us into who we are.
Who we are… shines through our poetry. Poems are personal.
This is what makes it difficult for many poets to share their poetry and accept feedback,
as they often take the comments personal as well. Our poems show a part of us through
an often cryptic design. Don’t be surprised if someone sees something else then what
you intended. Just as a stranger walks by you on the street, they can only form an idea about you
from that immediate experience.
Experience in any form, moves us. The writing of the poem, the movement of the pen, the blank page,
the ink, the keyboard, the comments/criticism, the lack of comments/criticism. Often our poems never seem
quite complete, even when we’ve told ourselves we finished the poem. Why? Because the poem is part
of us, yet we are always changing, moving, aging, and the poems words, are just that. Static words.
Which we’ve just left behind like footprints in the sand soon to be washed away by the shore.
I write to release myself, release my creativity, to empty myself,
so that all things following my emptiness can flow through me like the wind blows through a window.
- Fresh, and unfiltered.
I am the window opening, and the dust and grime accumulating at the window seal
are the poems in which I write – washing them away.
People are welcome to my dust and grime if they want, they can say what they want.
I am still just the window opening.
I’m open to any criticism. It’s up to me to determine which critiques I feel are valuable to me
and will help me improve on my poetic adventure.
Even those critiques where the critic totally misinterprets the poem can be valuable to me.
I am just the window opening, and you’re welcome to fly through.