the poet and the critic

December 19, 2009
To write poetry is to open one's soul.
To take pieces of it, and place it on paper.
To give names to one's feelings-
Nostalgia, Desire,
Reluctance.

Then the writer dissects them, with commas,
and periods and conjunctions and line
breaks.

To read poetry is to take a
magnifying glass to another's soul.
To analyze the deepest of emotions. And
to sum up everything to be known about
the writer, merely in the first
paragraph.

A poet, a good poet that is, has the ability
of putting into words the singer's voice,
the artist's painting, the dancer's
body.

He can make you feel the rays of sun
on your arms; give you a chill from the brisk
December air; taste the dew
condensating on the leaf.
A poet's magic is pure. He needs no optical
illusions.

And with all the power a poet
holds in that mighty pen,
he stands weak in comparison to the
critic.

The critic is a scientist,
quick to cut a piece of art into pieces.
He places labels and classifications.
The critic is all
powerful.

The relationship between the
writer and the reader is
delicate.

But every once in a while,
there comes a reader who simply loves
to read. They do not dissect.
They do not analyze. They do not label.
They too are an artist; they enjoy the art of
reading.

And when a poet can satisfy this reader,
he knows his work is
done.





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