It is often just as intriguing to find poems that I don't love--trying to imagine or decipher just what the author was thinking when they penned/typed the words.
Interesting how sometimes we give more credence to dead people than living people. (Truth in The Band Perry's song: "Funny when you're dead how people start listening.")
Really though..when there is a particularly hidden metaphor or confusing wording, if the person is a classic poet, or old, I tend to think it is me who has just not quite breached the proper level of understanding.
Others can sound like they are just trying too hard to be deep. Even then I guess I find it intriguing to puzzle toward their message.
Tributes to or commentaries on normal things.
On random things. On important things.
On love and happiness and loss and heartbreak.
Tonight (I guess it is morning now) I've mostly been randomly browsing the poems of Pablo Neruda.
Not necessarily cuz he's the best, or a favorite. Just cuz.
Pablo is from Chile. So his poems were translated to English.
Crazy. Trying to recreate the same meaning, the same pretty words, the same feeling in a whole new language. Think of whole books that are translated!
Some gets lost, some gets added in the process I'm sure. Comparing different translations of Pablo's poems made me want to read the scriptures in a different language ha. Hopefully all arriving at the same meaning, different words strike you in different ways.
Here are some words of his I liked:
(Ode to the Book)
(The House of Odes)
That'll do for tonight ;)