To-day I read an interesting poem in one of the brit blogs- Age of Uncertainty
. Infact the poem is written by another blogger who is also an author. The author of the poem is also interviewed by the blogger.
In the interview the author made an interesting observation,
“ poem works best if read slowly alertly to oneself in that private inner voice we all have that is not as crude as real voice. A real voice locks the person down so much; and so many poems are so complicated, you need able to see them and think them and read them slowly.”
Another blogger- The Truth about Lies one of my favourite blogger wrote about a brilliant post on surrealism .He states that he likes a ‘ poem that resonates after one has finished it and appreciate it when there are bits for him to chew on afterwards- unanswered questions if you like.’
Both these observations about poem are true. Poetry reading is also my favourite thing. Try reading a poem aloud when you are alone. You would just love the sensation, feel.
Read this Robert Frost poem. One of my favourites.
Where had I heard this wind before
Change like this to a deeper roar?
What would it take my standing there for,
Holding open a restive door,
Looking down hill to a frothy shore?
Summer was past and day was past.
Somber clouds in the west were massed.
Out in the porch's sagging floor,
leaves got up in a coil and hissed,
Blindly struck at my knee and missed.
Something sinister in the tone
Told me my secret must be known:
Word I was in the house alone
Somehow must have gotten abroad,
Word I was in my life alone,
Word I had no one left but God.
When ever I am depressed or alone the line,
‘word I was in my life alone
Word I had no one left’
would automaticlly ring in my ear. It would lift me from my depth. Refresh me. Try yourself.