This has nothing to do with the smash-hit phone game known as Wordle. For my Wednesday posts, I’m going to write poems, or talk about poetry and/or the power of language. It’s something that gets written off by the laymen, but how we communicate gives insight into how we think. When we write poetry, we practice defining and imagining things in new ways, expanding our ability to contextualize and process our internal dialogue and the external world.

Plus, writing poetry will make all your writing better, from the line level upward. Not many people read poetry anymore, so whatever you write, just make sure you do it for yourself first. Welcome to Wordy Wednesdays.

I’m going to write a poem today, but I was thinking about something I like to remind my students when I teach poetry. I tell them to remember that the languages of the tongue are distilled from the language of the head and the heart. We think in images and feeling, impulses and intuitions, not exclusively monologues and soliloquys. Words are really symbols that we assign meaning based on their etymology and sound — impure facsimiles of the underlying drivers that inspire their use.

So, when we write poetry, we should really be playful and experimental. Try out new words (did you know Dr. Seuss invented the word nerd?), stretch the definitions, play around with associations, or whatever else whistles your missile. There are more stringent forms to experiment inside of as well, if you want to challenge yourself.

When we find pathways of connection, we understand things on a deeper level, more completely than before. And if you say you don’t like poetry, you better not let me catch you listening to music. Musicians have always been poets, to an extent, but many modern musicians are literal poets, especially rappers, hiphop, and R&B artists. Anyways, here’s a short poem. Have a fabulous day! Try and compliment a stranger today!

Moving Again

See him packing for the thirty-second time

Following the hallowed tenants of his nomadic youth

See him give away a fifth of what he owns

Existential ecstasy and emptiness none can sooth

See him, with her, holding a candle against nothing

A vacuum filled with love, this time it’s different

See him, with her, salsa their way through it all

Not painted, but sculpted smiles, hardships irrelevant

See them transmogrify their worries and burdens

Relocation becomes a mission becomes an adventure

See them cry for both where they have been and will be

Knowing life is but a sweet breath, their time indentured