Poiesis Habitus I: An Informal Reflection on Personal Aesthetics and Habits
These installments explore poetry not merely as a literary form, but as a way of seeing, shaping, and inhabiting the world. Through close readings of poets such as Mary Oliver (with emphasis on her book “A Poetry Handbook”), Denise Levertov, Marianne Moore, and Robert Frost, among other 20th-Century Poets, the reader can expect reflections on sound, line, imagery, form, and freedom alongside personal meditations on writing habits, aesthetics, faith, and artistic formation. Blending literary criticism with spiritual and philosophical reflection, these short essays consider how poetry cultivates attentiveness to beauty, truth, and human experience while tracing the author’s own evolving understanding of poetic design and creative practice.
My aesthetic tastes gravitate toward classical literature, especially literary fiction and poetry, which reflectively meditate on the truths of life from the perspective of an individual living it. While some of the poems I hold closest to my heart are from the 19th century, particularly the works of William Wordsworth, I must acknowledge the 20th-century work of Theodore Roethke as the closest to my personal taste and style. I have the most experience with poetry containing semi-strict, structured rhythm, utilizing non-complex rhyme schemes. Mary Oliver notes that, for many, these structured patterns can be difficult and unnatural to read (14). Perhaps my appreciation for style is rooted in my growing up listening to 16th and 17th-century hymns.
I value structure and sound in poetry. I would disagree with Oliver, and argue that meter creates rhythm that fosters readability. I find many free verse poems to be difficult to read, and if I cannot read something clearly, the impact and meaning behind the words are often overlooked without deliberate, dedicated searching. Furthermore, meter facilitates musicality and creativity, forcing the writer to operate within a set of self-imposed constraints. Rhyme, likewise, creates an auditory harmony, connecting lines in a way that pleases the ear. But I value structure and sound in poetry not merely for its aesthetic appeal, but also for its usefulness. Just as Shakespeare did to indicate characters in moments of distress or heightened emotional states, meter and rhyme are useful because they can be broken. What better way to get a critical point across than by intentionally shattering the scheme of your sound on an important line?
Though I have thoroughly considered sound and structure in poetry, admittedly, I have neglected to evaluate the experimental form and linguistic innovation free verse has to offer. While its lack of structure seems less accessible to me, I acknowledge I may privilege readability over these other poetic qualities. Perhaps it is my love for structure and sound that can bleed into an appreciation for styles that seem more erratic to me. For as poetry evolves, poets' styles and tastes certainly do too (Dove xxxi).
My taste in literature connects with a larger vision of the good, valuing clarity, reflection, and intentionality. Structured poetry, in my opinion (which has shifted drastically since my original writing of this essay), represents the ideal of language distillation, reflecting the thoughtfulness of diction for the sake of structure, and considering the effects of how we should say what needs to be said. Since God is orderly, it makes sense that we should seek to communicate in an orderly way. Furthermore, engaging in poetry and literary narrative cultivates empathy, leading to a life that honors God and understands the complexities of the human person.
I spend a lot of time writing, but due to inconsistency and unpredictability in my work schedule, establishing consistent writing habits has proven difficult. I make it a point to write a minimum of 3000 words a week. While academic assignments and research encompass a majority of that, whatever free-writing time remains is spent writing fiction or poetry.
I strongly prefer to write academically in the mornings and creatively in the evenings. When writing fiction, I often like to begin my time writing with a strong, descriptive paragraph, forcing my mind to engage in the way I wish to write. If I ever have difficulty getting started, I will scan a well-written book until I find some evocative imagery or descriptive statement to engage my mind. Having done this since high school—preparing my mind with something descriptive—I have found that over the years, I rarely struggle with writer’s block because there is always something more to say and a new way to say it.
I view writing as a holistic act. I am not merely attempting to produce enjoyable content. It is a thoughtful and reflective form of expression. It develops my professional ability to communicate as well as providing a space in which I can process thoughts and feelings. Most of all, it is a way I can live, reflecting God who creates with words.
Bibliography
Dove, Rita, editor. The Penguin Anthology of Twentieth-Century American Poetry. Penguin Group, 2013.
Oliver, Mary. A Poetry Handbook. 1st ed., Mariner, 1994.