The Outerview Series: Part XVIII - Content Regency

     By now we understand that poetry is memorable speech.  It is a mode of speech, the other being prose.  The difference between prose and poetry is 100% form, 0% substance, and the purpose of that form is to make your words memorable.

     As such, it can be about anything.  It can be profound or simple.  Narrative, dramatic, or lyrical.  It can instruct us...

     "One, two, buckle my shoe..."

     ...remind us...

     "Thirty days hath September, April, June, and November..."

     ...entertain us...

     "There was a young man from Nantucket..."

     ...inform us...

     "We jazz june.  We die soon..."

     ...and everything else we communicate.  Thus, content (e.g. plot, message, meaning, theme, interpretation, emotions, moods, perspectives, etc.) plays no role in distinguishing poetry from prose, let alone distinguishing good from bad verse.  Great and terrible poems can be profound or silly, objective or subjective, passionate or removed, funny or serious.  This is axiomatic, which is why in our first article we established poetry's definition and raison d'être:  Memorable speech.  The concision and repetition (e.g. rhymes, rhythms, sonics, etc.) don't define poetry;  their purpose does.  They are mnemonics used to facilitate memory.

      Let's play a game.  I will mention an iconic poem and its takeaway.  You respond "Wow" if it is a stunning insight and "Duh" if it is painfully obvious.  Ready?

Ozymandias - "Great people/s die."

     "Duh."

High Flight - "Flying is exhilarating."

     "Duh."

The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock - "Growing old sucks."

     "Duh."

In Flanders Fields - "War is sad."

     "Duh."

The Cremation of Sam McGee - "Tennesseens don't like freezing."

     "Duh."

Sonnets from the Portuguese 43 - People love their lovers.

     "Duh!"

Doggerel and Lineated Prose

      For a second, let's pretend poetry depends on content.  You produce a brilliant idea or emotional circumstance.  You express it in the usual clumsy verse or prose with linebreaks.  Such insights should bring the world to your door, right?

      Here's the problem:  You can't copyright a theme.  A better writer--a poet--can and will  change a few details and express the same idea.  Indeed, this is the very definition of poetry:  the best words in the best order.  Words, not concepts or emotions.  Aside from its definition (i.e. memorable speech), this is the most fundamental and uncontroversial aspect of verse: 

 

       Understanding this axiom will take decades off your development time.

The Status Quo

      As we know, except for song lyrics poetry has died.  Few can recite it and contemporary performances are ignored.  Fewer and fewer remember what it was like when poetry was alive.  Or what it was.  It is an arcane art form.  Even major editors don't know or care about verse.  Dull prose is easier to source so why worry about craft?

     "So why are we here learning it?"

      For the same reasons as our ancestors developed it.

     "Which are...?

      To make our words live rent free in other people's heads.

     "Examples?"

      Sure.  Take advertising, for example.  As your grandparents to finish this line:

     "You'll wonder where the yellow went when you--"

      Ganesan Shekar wrote these five words--three trochees--and retired before 21:

     "Things are | sold, not | purchased."

      There are political slogans and speeches.

      There are slam contests.  There are cattle calls where a throwaway phrase might stick in interviewers' minds, landing you the role/job.

      Above all, though, there is still music.  Lyrics are more profitable than ever.

      "Okay, but what if I just want to get my poetry published?"

      For academic or commercial publications?

      "Both."

      Okay.  First, you will need to remove anything that resembles verse from your writing.

      "Can we disguise it, as with a curgina?"

      Yes, but there's no need to bother.  These editors don't read their submissions aloud.  In these circles, poetry is an affectation.  

        For a University Press you need to turn everything you've learned about poetry on its head.  Ignore Law #12...

          ...and embrace Rule #2:

      Write out some open ended Seinfeldian (i.e. about nothing) prose, remove any point of clarity, insert random linebreaks, and add a bunch of letters after your pseudonym.  Remember that the purpose isn't to be memorable;  in fact, the more forgettable the better, since that won't intrude on the scribblings of others.  This being the land of the dreaded poetry reading, never bother to memorize or perform your "poetry".

     "And non-academic outlets?"

      Shaggy dog stories with linebreaks.

Conclusion

      The status quo is dire.  On the plus side, the "competition" is every bit as hopeless.