I was listening to a Podcast interview with Stephen Fry yesterday, and he said something about poetry that echoed the sentiments of a practice I started a few weeks ago.
“English literature and novels and plays and art, to me are mankind’s supreme way of expressing all these things. Not political writing. Not history. We know more about the First World War because of a few poems of Wilfred Owen than of every single history book written about the First World War—because we know what it was like to be there. We can see, hear, and smell the entire experience”
We’re raised to write essays and emails in school, an exercise that strengthens the logical left-brain muscle, but neglects creative right-brain ways of perceiving, which poetry is so good at cultivating. Poems can be abstract, metaphorical, or sensual. They don’t have to make sense to be felt.
Before I started a morning poetry practice, I had swapped the morning pages with a sketching practice because I’d felt that labelling things logically was limiting—in the sense that it kept me thinking rather than feeling my way through things.
Then I listened to a conversation between poet David Whyte and producer Rick Rubin that inspired me to add a regular poetry practice to my morning pages.
Since there are no strict rules with poetry, I’ve found it such a freeing way to put down my thoughts in the morning. Freeing in the sense that it’s a way to tap out of logical, rational and literal thought, into felt symbol, sensation and metaphor.
If you want to start a poetry practice to go along with your morning pages, I’ve included some tips inspired by David Whyte for paid subscribers below.
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to Heliotropic to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.