Firstly Benjamin, let me apologize for being rude. I think I got too carried away teasing you about rhyming poetry. I didn't realize you were being serious, so I humbly apologize.
In high school, I remember taking The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, and loving it. I would not have really understood it had it not been for the teacher explaining it and pointing out all the literary devices, and meaning. It really meant something, and I understood why people would love poetry.
I don't have the right kind of mind to figure out poetry on my own however. I can appreciate how people can use words beautifully from a sound point of view, I just don't always get the meaning.
I'm just curious Benjamin, who do you consider to be talented poets?
...if you were being rude, I completely missed it
Umm...
There are certainly a lot of talented poets out there, but the point for me always boils down to one thing: intent.
I don't mind people using rhyme, but it has to serve a purpose. If the rhyme is there simply because the person believes that's what poetry is, then they haven't done their homework. Rhyme, like any other device in poetry, establishes a 'feel' to the writing. Take Dr. Seuss for example - if you removed the rhyme, you'd lose the sense of fun and foolishness. You'd have a lot of alliteration, but you'd be losing the cadence and the rhythm that the rhyme helps to establish.
This is one of my favourite poems. It's by William Carlos Williams:
The Red Wheelbarrowso much depends
upon
a red wheel
barrow
glazed with rain
water
beside the white
chickens.
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That one's ultra-simple, of course, but poetry doesn't have to be simple.
This one is by William Wordsworth, who immediately gained my respect by being critical of other poets for constantly using rhyme and failing to think 'outside the box'.
A Narrow Girdle of Rough Stones and CragsA narrow girdle of rough stones and crags,
A rude and natural causeway, interposed
Between the water and a winding slope
Of copse and thicket, leaves the eastern shore
Of Grasmere safe in its own privacy:
And there myself and two beloved Friends,
One calm September morning, ere the mist
Had altogether yielded to the sun,
Sauntered on this retired and difficult way.
----Ill suits the road with one in haste; but we
Played with our time; and, as we strolled along,
It was our occupation to observe
Such objects as the waves had tossed ashore--
Feather, or leaf, or weed, or withered bough,
Each on the other heaped, along the line
Of the dry wreck. And, in our vacant mood,
Not seldom did we stop to watch some tuft
Of dandelion seed or thistle's beard,
That skimmed the surface of the dead calm lake,
Suddenly halting now--a lifeless stand!
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That's just a snippet of that one - but you can hopefully see why I like it.
Wordsworth was a Poet Laureate in his day, and was incredibly critical of other poets. He felt (and I agree wholeheartedly) that poetry is really all about linguistic experimentation. It allows the poet to play with words and construct images and meaning in a way that the rigid constraints of grammar simply don't allow for in prose. Now, that doesn't mean that poetry shouldn't be grammatical, but you can blur the lines a little bit.
Most of the time, I like simplicity in poetry.
I think that the best poets often have a way of saying as much as possible, using an absolute minimum in words. William Carlos Williams' poem above, "The Red Wheelbarrow" is an excellent example of that. It's a brief poem, and he really only talks about a wheelbarrow and chickens in passing terms, and yet the poem is highly evocative; nostalgic, even.
Usually, when I write, I try to follow a similar vein. Not always, mind you - but if I'm going to be 'wordy', then it has to be with intent.
So... this is one of my own: