1: one who writes poetry: a maker of verses
2: one (as a creative artist) of great imaginative and expressive capabilities and special sensitivity to the medium
Poet (n.): early 14th century, “a singer” (c. 1200 as a surname), from Old French poete (12th century, Modern French poète) and directly from Latin poeta “a poet,” from Greek poetes “maker, author, poet,” variant of poietes, from poein, poiein “to make, create, compose,” from Proto-Indo-European kwoiwo- “making,” from root kwei- “to pile up, build, make” (source also of Sanskrit cinoti “heaping up, piling up,” Old Church Slavonic činu “act, deed, order“).
“in a world
Sanober Khan (Mumbai-based poet and freelance writer, best known for her book, “A touch, a tear, a tempest)
“Heaven deliver us, what's a poet? Something that can't go to bed without making a song about it.”
Dorothy L. Sayers (1893-1957, renowned English crime writer, poet, playwright, essayist, translator, and Christian humanist)
“Poets utter great and wise things which they do not themselves understand.”
Plato (429? – 347 B.C.E., “… by any reckoning, one of the most dazzling writers in the Western literacy tradition and one of the most penetrating, wide-ranging, and influential authors in the history of philosophy.”)
“...if you do not even understand what words say,
how can you expect to pass judgment
on what words conceal?”
H.D. (1886-1961, Hilda “H.D.” Doolittle, poet, novelist, essayist, memoirist, and wrote a number of translations from Greek; she immersed herself in the “intellectual crosscurrents” of modernism, psychoanalysis, “syncretist mythologies,” and feminism)
“The poet's job is to put into words those feelings we all have that are so deep, so important, and yet so difficult to name, to tell the truth in such a beautiful way, that people cannot live without it.”
Jane Kenyon (1947-1995, New Hampshire’s poet laureate and translator, who “was for verse that probed the inner psyche, particularly with regard to her own battle against depression…”)
“What is a poet? An unhappy man who hides deep anguish in his heart, but whose lips are so formed that when the sigh and cry pass through them, it sounds like lovely music.... And people flock around the poet and say: 'Sing again soon' - that is, 'May new sufferings torment your soul but your lips be fashioned as before, for the cry would only frighten us, but the music, that is blissful.”
Soren Kierkegaard (1813-1855, profound and prolific writer in the Danish “golden age” who crossed the boundaries of philosophy, theology, psychology, literary criticism, devotional literature and fiction’ known as the “father of existentialism”)
“The poet or the revolutionary is there to articulate the necessity, but until the people themselves apprehend it, nothing can happen ... Perhaps it can't be done without the poet, but it certainly can't be done without the people. The poet and the people get on generally very badly, and yet they need each other. The poet knows it sooner than the people do. The people usually know it after the poet is dead; but that's all right. The point is to get your work done, and your work is to change the world.”
James Baldwin (1924-1987, essayist, playwright and novelist regarded “as a highly insightful, iconic writer”)
“The poet’s job is to put into words those feelings we all have that are so deep, so important, and yet so difficult to name, to tell the truth in such a beautiful way, that people cannot live without it.”
— Jane Kenyon
Have you ever said something so profound to someone that you thought: whoa, did I really say that? I believe most of us are capable of being channels of profound messages from the Universe when we remain loving, opened and connected to the Stream.
I love poets, because they are artistic philosophers and mystics,who have the gifts to tap in and translate back what they heard in the most concise, profound and elegantly-crafted words possible.
I have been extremely fortunate to have had opportunities to hear such great poets live and up close. I also was blessed to have many conversations with one accomplished Puerto Rican poet while commuting on the bus from the Bronx to Manhattan where I worked at a hospital.
Sometimes the 90-minute bus ride was crowded, but most of the time it was a pleasant while encountering the same professional commuters every morning. One day, I miraculously sat next to an older man in his 70s who traveling with his sister. Prudencio turned out to be this great philosopher and mystic. I was in my early twenties at the time, newly married with no children, as of yet. But, I was very fascinated by the mysterious stories he told me of his encounters.
He was a charmer too and would often sit and tell me stories while he held my hand. I didn’t feel threatened or disrespected, so I let him while I listened closely to every word. Everyone on the bus would look at us and smiled, wondering what we talked about. Anna, one of most elegant women on bus who was also Puerto Rican, asked me directly and I told her we talked about metaphysics. She nodded her head and said she understood. Her father was much like Prudencio and had a profound and deeply spiritual connection to The Great Mystery.
Our conversations did not last long, but what great seeds of inspiration, curiosity, and wonder Prudencio planted in my life.
Strive to be mystically and poetically aligned, sojourners! I guarantee you will not be bored!
Miraculously Yours, Tonya