An Introduction to Poetry

If you have been following along on Tending Roses, then you are aware that I am creating my own poetry course for 7th and 8th graders at the school where I work. I am so grateful for the opportunity to do this, and so excited to share how my first lesson went.

For our first lesson, I wanted to try to answer the question, “What is poetry?” I thought this would be a good introductory lesson to a poetry class, but I also wanted to answer a question a lot of them likely had in their minds when the course was announced… “We have a literature class five days per week. Why do we now also have a separate class dedicated to poetry?” It is understandable that they would find that strange, if not downright unnecessary. After all, they are very young, and many (most?) adults do not even understand the value of poetry.

So, I spent the class period sharing with them three aspects of poetry that make it special, different from other forms of literature, and necessary to the human soul. (The following aspects of poetry are outlined in Perrine’s Sound & Sense, if you are interested in diving deeper into the subject of what makes poetry what it is.)

First, poetry encompasses every single category of human experience. Not just the beautiful experiences, not only the truest statements of truth have their place in poetry. Some of the best, most genius, most affecting poems have been written about the ugliest, or the most tragic experiences. But also, every other type of human experience finds a home in poetry. From Longfellow’s Psalm of Life to Hardy’s Hap, great poetry can illicit the deepest, most profound human emotions by allowing us to have an experience when we read it.

But, you would be right to point out that human experience is not only the domain of poetry. It is also the domain of every form of literature. And this brings me to the second point I made with my students, which is that the difference between poetry and other forms of literature lies in its intensity. Often limited by the constraints of form, poetry is forced into being constructed out of the most intense sentences ever written, where each word is agonized over and chosen by its author in order to contribute to the whole experience being imparted by a given poem. When I’m being a little silly, I sometimes say that poetry is thereby the most efficient form of literature.

Finally, the last point I wanted to make with my students is the way that poetry accomplishes its heavy task of imparting an entire experience to its reader: it communicates to us on multiple dimensions. It must, of course, communicate to us on an intellectual level, but unlike reading an entry in an encyclopedia, poetry must also have other dimensions at its disposal. In order to impart an experience, poetry must also communicate simultaneously with our emotions, our senses, and our imaginations.

Take as an example a short poem by Emily Dickinson which I love: Disenchantment.

It dropped so low in my regard
I heard it hit the ground,
And go to pieces on the stones
At bottom of my mind;

Yet blamed the fate that fractured, less
Than I reviled myself
For entertaining plated wares
Upon my silver shelf.

This poem is excellent partially because it communicates on multiple dimensions, even if you might not realize it at first due to its simplicity. I urge you to think about the ways this poem calls upon the powers of your intellect, your senses, your imagination, and your emotions. See if the following questions help you to accomplish this task:

  1. What does “disenchantment” mean?

  2. What image does Dickinson evoke to illustrate the way it feels to have the scales suddenly torn from one’s eyes?

  3. What is the implied metaphor in lines 7 and 8?

  4. What effect does Dickinson’s use of repeated consonant sounds (alliteration and consonance) have on the poem? (fate, fractured, reviled, silver, etc…) [Read the poem out loud if you haven’t already!]

By being exposed to many, many poems this year, and through continued practice with how to read poetry, my students will gradually become more and more practiced in the art of discerning “plated wares” from truly great poems. And, hopefully, at the end of our time together, they will be well-equipped not only with some of the most excellent poetry ever written, but also with the tools they need to seek out, find value in, and enjoy beautiful poetry for the rest of their lives. Perhaps the “silver shelf” of their lives will even contain some of the poetic gems we study together.

Grace Steele