It strikes me odd that up until fairly recently in history poetry was considered a masculine form of art in which men wrote sonnets and lyrics to woo women (I mean, who wouldn’t swoon a bit for this?) but now any man that associates with it is considered feminine or sensitive. When did poetry become a chick thing?
I completely understand why it is typically appreciated by the female population and even since the beginning was often intended for women (granted it was in an attempt to get into their pants); it’s simple psychology. You see, men tend to think one thought at a time and focus on just that one until it is resolved to him and then move on while women typically think in knots and tangled webs that bring one idea to the next to the next to the… you get my point. Therefore women has a tendency to read more from even a single line and I guess enjoy it more.
I am here to tell you men that there is yet a poet you can adore, Miss Emily Dickinson. Yes, I know the rumors, she was just some chick that never left her room and didn’t get published until after she was already dead as a doorknob. BUT what these “critics” don’t mention is that she actually had a life, or at least is presumed to have had a life! Her poems are short, sarcastic, and most are incredibly sexual (Seriously though… Yowza!). In fact, historians are constantly arguing about whether she was a total slut, or just REALLY wanted to be.
Even if poetry tends to go right over your head, I encourage you to try picking her up one more time, and this time with Paul Legault’s The Emily Dickinson Reader. I found this book in the back corner of the poetry section in a used bookstore back home and was amazed by how it takes each and every one of her poems and simplifies it to get straight to the point. You will never laugh more in your entire life and I guarantee that even though you’re actually just laughing at the boob joke interpreted by Legualt, you’ll look classy doing it.
~ OWM (Babblings of a Bibliophile)