“Poem of the Week” this week will instead be a commentary on poetry. It is in the form of a “poem” but also a question posed to the reader. A question asking to break the walls that sometimes confine poetry to words. A Poem can be found all over the world. Art is poetry, music is poetry, nature and the unnatural are poetry.

A Poem About Poems

I postulate
That
Poetry is not confined to lines of a poem.
But, instead- that it may be a way of thinking.
A state of mind.  A poetry of mind.
An openness to its sound.
That the senses of our body know exactly when it happens, but it cannot be created through only skill.
It is inspired through art.
I postulate
That
Anything can be a poem if your mind is set to it. Anything can be a poem if it wants to be.
Duchamp created a poem from a toilet seat;
Pollack from drips of paint and tar,
Whitman from his nature,
Simon and Garfunkel from leaves that were and are green,
Even This could be a poem
If it wanted to be.
I postulate
That
Poetry is symmetry but- I cannot tell of what.
I postulate
That
Music is poetry.
Poetry that plays with our senses and makes our bodies dance.
I postulate
That
It is elusive what makes poetry, poetry. It is vague and beautiful and courageous and kind. It is dark and mysterious and haunting. It is calm and quiet, it is wild and abrasive. It is short and to the point. It is languid, spilling over like leaves of a willow tree, soft green and waiting to be brushed aside and peaked under. It is curious and provocative. It is thrifty with words. It is gaudiness with language. It is cleverness and complication. It is molded and shaped, sharp like slate but cool and soft as grass. It plays. It prevents. It procrastinates. It purposes.
It strums harp on heart-stings, it sings for you its tune in loving notes of poetry.
It screams. It moans. It whispers.
Listen.
          -Rebecca Najjar