I am an artist, obviously a visual artist, but I am going to talk to you about poetry. To me, a poem is like a painting. If there is an art form I love aside from painting, it is poetry; the verbal visual. I must admit though, music is my life partner. Everything goes with music. And, no, I do not mean the other way around - music goes with everything. Music is the central element. Everything goes with music. Umm…Let’s move on.

     A poem is like a painting in the sense that a poem can create a vision of a moment in time inside the mind of the reader. The poet builds the poem around an emotion, most often love, hurt, or hate. The reader’s emotions traverse the structure of the poem. Visions sneaking in with every line read. The one word lines adding potency to the verbal visual. Sometimes the poems pace is slow, dangling the words through to the end until the reader is anticipatory in feeling because of the slow, deliberate pace. But the picture has been formed the verbal visual has been reached. The idea has been conveyed. The words have been displayed for the reader. It is left up to the reader to take the journey, to interpret, to visualize.

     A poem touches the heart, inspires feelings, gives way to new ways of thinking; connects to new and old ways of feeling. The poet’s words become power by pulling the reader in to the moment. We give in willingly; sometimes unwillingly. The moment is cathartic. The medicine is pure. The journey, if a poem is good and true, is a type of cleansing that leaves the physical untouched, but the emotional, and maybe even the spiritual, in meaningful contemplation.. As does a good painting.

     A painting, meaning an original painting, one we find that draws us, we find ourselves trying to engross every nano “meter” with our eyes, at the same time engulfing the painting as a whole. We stare, we think with our eyes, but we have stopped moving, then we begin to move to see the painting from every possible angle. We are entranced, abandoning all else for the moment. We are touched and the emotions from that touch are hard to immediately explain, so verbal sounds abound. “Ooh.” Wow.“” “Look at that” “ How did…? Then we are calm letting the feelings overcome and still us for a moment. We are memorizing. A camera shot is not good enough; even so, we take the picture. We want to remember as much of the painting, the brush stokes, the paint textures, the colors, the tones, the movement, the expression, the mood, as we can, and take it with us. Keep the feeling with us as long as possible. Hold the feeling close to our hearts. Just like when reading a good poem.

     Which is better? Paintings or poetry? Visual or verbal? These questions should not be answered. Why should one form of art be considered “better” than the another form of art? We must have both painting and poetry. Emotionally we are multifaceted. Our senses need nurturing, healing, jolting, to be used. Feeling the visual, seeing the written, hearing the musical. Or is it seeing the visual, feeling the written…..my point exactly!

     Thank you King David, Langston Hughes, Claude McKay, Gwendolyn Bennett, Maya Angelou; so, so many to name for the written word. Who would you name? Who has spoken to your spirit?

     Thank you to all the lyrical poets, as well.

     …And thank you to my husband for poems that are now buried in my drawer, which he gave to me during the young days of our relationship.

     Thank you, Poets.

     And thank you to one of my daughters, a poet herself. Here is one of her poems she has allowed me to share.

“Enough” by Elyse Wallace © Copyright 2008 Elyse Wallace

I guess I wasn’t worth enough to begin with.

I guess I wasn’t cool enough, either.

I guess I wasn’t funny enough,

Or, I wasn’t smart enough.

Good enough.

Or pretty enough.

And I guess I never was enough.

And I guess I’ll never be enough.

Well, guess what?

Enough is enough!

　

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As for me, back to painting….!