Poetry: A Window to our Life

WINDOW

When I was at school, it was just a compulsory activity. After High School, it became to me a solitude pleasure. Even if, I am honest here, I read poems once in a blue moon. But a poetry book always lies on my nightstand, waiting for the right moment to come to me.

April, I have recently found out, is the American National Poetry month

In the school I am teaching in, it is also a special month because it is the school poetry competition month too. We will take advantage of it to work on some creative writing activities in the classroom. This will be quite an experiment to me, teaching in a vocational High School. But I am deeply truly  sure my students will come out with the most amazing poems.

What is Poetry to me? A window. A closed window to be open, to the world of your feelings, and to the real world too. Outside Life comes in contact with your inner personal Life, and they melt together.

It is a great feeling, when you are reading THE poem. And everything seems much more pleasant and easy to understand, and you just think: Well, this poet could read my thoughts, even before I was born. This just shows us that humans can have and share the same inner thoughts and feelings.

 

I leave you with this, some of the most powerful lines I have personally ever read:

Ode to the West Wind

by

P.B. Shelley 1792 - 1822
If I were a dead leaf thou mightest bear;
If I were a swift cloud to fly with thee;
A wave to pant beneath thy power, and share

The impulse of thy strength, only less free
Than thou, O Uncontrollable! If even
I were as in my boyhood, and could be

The comrade of thy wanderings over Heaven,
As then, when to outstrip thy skiey speed
Scarce seemed a vision; I would ne’er have striven

As thus with thee in prayer in my sore need.
Oh! lift me as a wave, a leaf, a cloud!
I fall upon the thorns of life! I bleed!

A heavy weight of hours has chained and bowed
One too like thee: tameless, and swift, and proud.

 

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5 thoughts on “Poetry: A Window to our Life

  1. I love poetry first of all because it brings back to me the image of my father.
    He used to write poems for me when I was a child. He had the outstanding ability to create rimes in a couple of seconds, to play with adjectives or nouns, to write words on paper according to their sound and meaning, strictly following grammar or syntax rules. Maybe he conquered my mum reciting love poems.
    When he was an old widower, he couldn’t read books anymore because of a sight disease called maculopathy, so he beg me to collect and read poems for him. He knew a lot of pieces by heart and was able to explain even the more complex poetry verses. He often composed ironic or hilarious poems and we used to laugh at all of his jokes. I will always preserve the memory of those precious moments in my heart.
    I sometimes write poems, but, more frequently, I write texts, especially when I’m sad or anxious. Writing is a sort of soul therapy to me. I need to “see” written words to face my innermost fears and convert them to a treatable problem.
    I remember that I started to appreciate the english language while studying poetry. I suddenly fell in love with Coleridge’s “Ballad of the Ancient Mariner”: I still remember the description he made of the changing sea, once calm and friendly and the other time turbulent and dark.
    I hope I didn’t write too many mistakes, my english has uncontrollably worsened during the last years.
    See you at school!

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    • Thank you so much for your stunning contribution, thank you for sharing your thoughts on Poetry and your sweet memories.
      And what about your English skills? I wish only half of our colleagues could master English like you do! Hope in the future you can teach Chemistry in English. The Italian school system needs CLIL teachers like you.

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      • Thank you too, Mrs. Dorigo, for your comments and suggestions. I like the way you involve students in work activities. In my opinion, Chemistry should be taught in English at least in academic institutions. Bye!

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  2. I think, WRITING a poem does not make sense because I consider IT useless. I would prefer a text or letters where AUTHORS can express themselves better and makE it clear to those who read the true meaning OF THEIR TEXTS. But it is NOT said that my thinking is right. 😊

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