Measuring Poetry

Poetry is a "tough nut to crack," made harder since I had trouble learning to read. In kindergarten, the teacher called my mom and said "What is wrong with Phillip?"  It turned out to be mild dyslexia and a learning disability with phonics.  So to me, poetry seemed like a mean trick rather than celebrated art. I saw poetic language as obscuring the meaning rather than adding depth to my understanding.   I measured poetry and found it lacking. 

Fortunately, I have made room in my heart for writing that elicits beauty and engenders creative thought. The book Blue Like Jazz by Donald Miller takes its title from a beautiful scene where he describes his experience feeling the Holy Ghost while camping in the Grand Canyon.  He has eyes to see the wonder and great expanse of the heavenly hosts and he describes the stars as "dancing in the sky blue like jazz." He is constantly raving about the merits of poetry. 

Miller also talks about how absurd of a notation it is to try to measure beauty.  Beauty has a quality that defies measurement.  He reminds readers of the scene in a famous movie at a private school where the students are enraptured when their instructor has them tear out the chapter from their textbook that put forward a method for measuring poetry. It turns out can't measure poetry. 

Miller also reminded me why in college I was drawn to Ani DeFranco's music. I see it was the truth that she hid in a poem.  Her line "I am 32 flavors and then some" is poetry that I am just now beginning to understand.  I see it through the years as true of myself.   In the same song, she says 'Cause someday you are gonna get hungry, and eat most of the words you just said," another way to say you are probably wrong.  Sorry poetry, I was probably wrong.