How to Understand Poetry

Spoiler alert: you're already doing it right.

When you say that you do not understand poetry 

I hear:  I don’t understand the world, 

or anything in it. 

Bring me a new one. 

I started my latest chapbook Come Closer, I Don’t Mind the Silence with this poem. As a poet, I fluctuate between thinking that poetry is important, vital even, to wondering whether I’m wasting my time with something inconsequential. 

It’s a fact: poetry gives me strength and improves my life daily. Because I am surrounded by poets and writers, I sometimes forget that most of the world is not like this. One could even say that a great majority of people declare that they don’t “understand” poetry, looking at it as a separate and perhaps elitist medium. 

I remember being one of those people even after I’d started writing at around age 12 or 13. Poetry was a language I couldn’t speak, something that other people studied and understood. You needed to have a specific kind of brain. Then I discovered poetry that wasn’t the one we were taught at school. It was contemporary, and it resonated with me in ways I couldn’t pinpoint or understand. The fact that I could create something out of nothing and connect with others this way was mind-blowing.

Because that’s the thing: poetry, like faith, is a manifestation of that which cannot be put into straightforward words. It speaks to that which cannot be seen or touched. It notices facets of the human condition and speaks to the gaps that we have in common. For some people, what they would call the ‘best’ poems are the ones that resonate most with their experience - they can connect to these pieces and feel like they could have (or wish to have) written them themselves. Others prefer poetry that, through precision of language, can talk about something known but in a new way. Others still look at technique. When it comes to my own work, I consider it a measure of success when I can select the most precise words in the best order - best to what, you might ask? Best to whatever gets closest to the image of the poem that I have in my head. I have described writing a poem as explaining and translating to others what I can feel with my hands in the dark.

Great poets DO have learned skills. I will never deny this. But there are many people, like me, who have not gone through intensive programs. In my case I can say that I’ve spent years practicing, reading, attending courses and workshops, and generally building my skillset with an insatiable appetite. And I’m not here to tell you that you must do what I did to understand poetry, either. I OFTEN meet people who say that they have not given poetry much attention before, and then they go ahead and write a first draft of an excellent poem. I don’t know if there’s such a thing as beginner’s luck in poetry writing, but I’ve seen this with my own eyes. The thing is, anyone alive can attempt to write a poem because we are all living the human experience through a different lens. And still, we have a lot in common, regardless of our background, upbringing, education level, socioeconomic status, etc etc

Today, I’m going to explain how to understand poetry. 

It’s simple, are you ready?

The answer is: Don’t.

You just need to feel what it gives you, connect with its message, or maybe even disagree. Are you moved either way? Do you feel that someone has felt what you have felt? Do you enjoy the choice of words? Are you delighted by the sound of it when read out loud? Are you mesmerized by hearing the poet speak it into life? Can you hear how one word is used in different ways? Does it make you nod? What do you notice?

Where does it hit you? There! There! 

You’re doing it right.