I have always had deep emotional ties to poetry—I am an English major, after all. I own poetry books that have saved my life. I think that poetry has always been the clearest way I know to communicate with the world. I think that poetry has always been the clearest way I know to communicate with myself.
This is all to say that I love poetry, and I try to get others to appreciate it at every turn. I also know, however, that my appreciation for poetry has always come from recent poets. I have a great appreciation for poetry that is being made in the present, for poetry that is transforming our idea of poetry and that often goes overlooked.
I get it. It is easy to accept the literary canon and to look at the works of a bunch of dead white guys and be impressed. But there are so many living poets right now that are doing great work. It is impossible to say whether or not they will be remembered, but it is important to consume their art and appreciate them regardless. One of my favorite form of recent poetry is affectionately called “spilled ink.” An Urban Dictionary definition describes it this way:
“Reveler 1: It was less than poetry, unrefined, unpolished, but somehow more than prose, beautiful, raw. What do you call something like that?
Reveler 2: Spilled ink, man, spilled ink.”
The 21st century has seen the emergence of Tumblr poets, and I do not feel that this should be regarded as a problem. I love that Tumblr poets make poetry accessible. They make poetry easy to read. They make poetry, as Reveler 1 would say, “beautiful and raw.” One of my favorite poets, Trista Mateer, is a Tumblr poet. She has been mocked for that; she has also been mocked for writing too many love poems. But what is the point of that? Love is a part of life. Love is so hard to encompass, even with millions of love poems that have already been written. Poetry, to me, has always been about making art out of everyday experiences, of painful experiences and joyful ones. It seems counterproductive to mock poets—female poets and poets of color especially—for trying to make sense of the world as they currently perceive it.
Even those who see the value of modern poetry sometimes refuse to pay for it. So many poets in our time start off on the internet because it allows them to reach a wider audience. So much of their work is free, and still, people complain about paying a reasonable price ($10-$15) for poetry books by living poets who are just trying to make a living.
Poetry has the capacity to change lives. I know it does. I’ve experienced it firsthand. We should pay for works that make us feel, works that make being human just a little bit easier. To not do so is to create an unsustainable dependency on free art that does not benefit the artists who created it. Even if these poets don’t make you feel deeply, they are doing it for someone else.
Tell living poets that you appreciate them. Buy their work. Recognize their merit. And become a better person through them.