Feeling Better About It

 

To be quite honest, poetry still has not won me over, but I will admit it has earned more of my respect. I understand how every word the poet uses is intentional: as Master Oogway would say, “there are no accidents.” And poetry definitely abides by this. But still, ever since I had to learn about the deconstructionist lens sometime around the beginning of the year, I have been continuously irked by whether I am analyzing the text the way the author intended. I guess the direct application of this analytical method in poetry would be chunking. For instance, while reading the poem for the silent seminar, how I viewed the structure, connotations, etc. of the poem affected how I chunked the poem, which in turn resulted in giving me a conclusion that was widely different than basically everyone else’s. In general, when analyzing large works, this has not been a problem, but when every word carries its own meaning, forming the specific intention the author had in mind when writing, I begin to face an issue.

Regardless, I have still learned to respect that poetry serves a value, a freedom, that typical writing or texts do not. Whether it be clever wordplay, or completely fumbling conventional grammar, there is always something to admire.

 

Here is my short poem, “When I am texted ‘bruh’”

 

Had he voiced disdain? or a feeling of glory?

He had hermit crabbed any meaningful vocabulary,

Leaving me in this conundrummed moment,

To decipher the enigma as if I had Holmed in all my knowledge of his character to realize his intent and present the perfect response as a bestowment.

I was a now bruhhed man

But fear not, he is not as cunning and sly as Batman

My ingenuity is leaps and bounds ahead

As I replied “bruh” back, it was as if he had been Uno Reverse carded.