Three descriptions of poetry
Poetry is: saying what I should have said
The witty comeback that escaped me then;
Or else the cliché that your sadness needed
Which I, too ironic, would not deliver; or
What I could not wheeze out between asthmatic breaths—
Poetry is saying what I should have said.
Poetry is saying what I said indeed,
Which went, as persona non grata, unheeded,
Which now, in hushed literary revenge,
I resay on the page—I declaim for the ages.
My clever remark to which nobody listened.
Poetry: now shouting what then I whispered.
Poetry: coming to know what l think
—take, for example, this stanza, born
Only after its parents were typed;
When, this evening, I sat down to write,
I did not know what I meant, but now
That I have spoken, I know me well.
Poetry is saying first, then meaning.
Explanation
“Three descriptions of poetry” is an ars poetica. An ars poetica is a theory of poetry written in verse; that is, it is a poem whose subject is an argument about what poetry is or should be. The first such poem was written by Horace, a Roman poet who wrote during Augustus’ reign. The name of the genre—which just means ‘the art of poetry—is the title of Horace’s poem.
“Three descriptions of poetry” has interlinked yet distinct arguments, separated along stanza lines.
In stanza one, the speaker argues that poetry is their chance to say something that they wish they had said at an earlier time. They give three examples of occasions on which they were unable to say something quickly enough:
They thought of a comeback (to a comment or insult) too late
They should have said something nice to a friend in need, but they were too mean or sarcastic to say it
They were having an asthma attack and couldn’t speak. (This third case is a somewhat ambiguous metaphor for incapacity. I suffered from childhood asthma, and often use it in writing as a metaphor for the inability to speak or write.)
For each of these cases, poetry has later afforded the speaker time to say what they wish they had said in situ.
In stanza two, the speaker again complains, but this time that they were not listened to when they spoke. Unlike the first stanza, the speaker has managed to say what they wanted to the relevant people. But these people did not listen!
Poetry here is a form of revenge. They say that they are writing, instead of for the unappreciative crowd, for “the ages.” They mean, “if my contemporaries won’t listen to me, maybe my readers will.” Implied is that perhaps future generations will better understand the poet than their own generation does.
Stanza three plays with the idea that one doesn’t know what they think until they speak. I love this notion, because it is a counterpoint to the request, often made of me by mom, to think before you speak. How could I, since I don’t know what I think?
The stanza uses itself as an example of this. When I was writing this poem, I wanted to write three stanzas, but I didn’t have another argument for what poetry is. Then, while writing the first two, I thought of the third. This is an example of how ars poeticas can be metapoetic.
Metapoetry is poetry that is self-referential, i.e. it comments within itself on what it is. An ars poetica is in this sense already metapoetic. However, an ars poetica that uses itself as an example is even more metapoetic.
Meta meta meta meta meta!
Lesson(s)
Write to say what you should have said
Write to re-say that which was ignored
Write to know what you think and mean
Scansion (poem stats)
18 lines
Iambic tetrameter
Unrhymed, with a few slant rhymes, e.g. in lines 1 and 2
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Love this analysis. I like the lack of punctuation at the end of the first line. "Hushed literary revenge," is lovely, soft "sh" and "g." Literature/art more generally as a place to save face and rewrite the past makes a lot of sense. I think of Proust re-writing his whole life so that he won every interaction--not by having his protagonist resemble him and having genuine social victories, that rarely happens, but by the agency and charm of his forcible redescription.
I love the dissection, making the elusive clear. I guess that your mother has become a poetic metaphor, like your asthma….. I believe she wanted, always, to hear everything you said😉❤️