If someone asks me why I write poetry, I answer without hesitation that it is due to an inner need of the human being. That is, if it is not written, it feels and expresses itself in some way. Not everyone wants or can translate into verses what he feels, but has the need to express poetically or artistically the beauty that captures sensoryly in contact with nature or in the relationship with its fellows, as in the case of love, joy, sadness, etc. The human being also experiences emotional or cathartic states when asked about the reason for living, their human condition, or metaphysical destiny. Many people write or listen to poems, others delight in music or painting, but in general, humans reach the aesthetic dimension, almost without proposing it.
In the specific case of poetic work, as we traditionally know it, it is an exercise in writing, mostly in versified form, which is done practically on purpose, in response to a particular state of mind. Sometimes it is performed randomly from childhood, but usually develops from mature age. Obviously, not everyone experiences the propensity to write poems, but that doesn’t mean they can’t do it at any given time. Naturally, writing poetry per se, as a usual, established trade, is a vital, individual condition, which often identifies a person as a poet.
As far as I am concerned, I have been writing poetry for a long time, sadly in disorderly form, which is why I have lost a lot of material. I never considered poetic exercise as part of my teaching profession, but rather collateral, occasional, but indispensable. It was during my retirement that I started gathering and editing the material. Returning to the question above, why do I write poetry?, I have to answer in the same way: out of necessity, by an inner call. A discontinuous, interrupted, but unstoppable process. Inspiration did not always coincide with the occasion; however, the writing process continued in some way. There were (still) moments of inspiration at midnight or early morning and I had to wake up to write the poem, because I couldn’t sleep.
What and how are those moments of inspiration? In my case, at least, they are more spontaneous than intentional in nature. Spontaneity favors the free verse; intentionality, that is, planning, the “work of carpentry”, generates the rhymed verse, /essential, for example, in the construction of the sonnet). That’s why the Colombian poet Guillermo Valencia wrote, “Sacrifice a world to polish a verse.” This technique seems to have given way to free verse, in modern poetry. For my part, I cultivate both techniques.
