Letter to a Dying Language

When I think of antiquated language, I think of Homer, Dante, and Shakespeare. I then think about how language has evolved from the earlier centuries—language especially in poetry. The fact that we are still able to read works from the 7th or 8th century like the Odyssey and make it a core part of curriculum in today’s literature, is it not fascinating? Well, some of you may think opposingly, but what if I were to tell you that this was not only a very popular (if not the most popular) form of artistic expression, but speaking in “Homeric” language was also a form of aristocracy? You would have been part of the “it” crowd, among those considered to be intelligent and cultured men. Before literacy, all one had was their tongue, and whether it was eloquent or inarticulate was contingent on the memorization of Homer’s epics—and works like that—and applying it to mundane conversation. Therefore, poetry was more than an art form, but a way of life, a construct of high society.

Now when I think of early modern poetry, I think of Emily Dickinson, W.B Yeats, Langston Hughes, William Carlos Williams, and Robert Frost, among many other great poets. But how many of us are well read in modern poetry? How many of us can recognize these authors' poems without being told the author? Unlike Homer and Shakespeare, whom many of us can recognize due to academic exposure, many of us are not familiar with modern poetry. Just ask yourself or your friends. How many of you dive into poetry due to your own curiosity and interest? I ask this because I’ve noticed that poetry has lost its luster that was so sought after in the classical ages. It has left the realm of desirability regarding speech and performance of stories and entered a daunting and unapproachable subject of literature. I claim it is unapproachable because most of us do not like poetry and agree with the following statements: “it’s hard to understand,” “I just don’t get it,” or—Oh! And this pains my heart! — “it’s stupid.” Now, of course, no one is obligated to like poetry and literature, just as not everyone has to be fans of numbers and concrete subjects, but I think it warrants a semblance of appreciation and respect for the truth it shares. 

Well, some of you might argue that you like poetry, but only today’s poetry. I’ve noticed that authors such as Rupi Kaur, R.H Sin and Claudia Rankine are among popular poets that one will find on the popular works shelves and tables at bookstores, or be the first to come up on your Amazon search engine when you search “poetry." While I enjoy this poetry and have acquired my own collection of their works, they share the same themes. Most of this poetry is centered on pain, resilience, and self-discovery, all personal and relatable topics, but there are not any new images or messages shared through these works. I like them at face value and for their raw and encouraging words, but that is their limit. I feel that today’s poetry is more akin to making statements about pain and describing the events that led to pain than communicating emotions through all aspects of life. Frankly, while the poetry is beautiful, it is not original. However, maybe I am wrong and stuck in the past; maybe these are the themes that everyone wants to discuss and share. Maybe this is the way poetry should move forward. However, I find that current poetry neglects romanticism, surrealism, and realism. 

So, what am I trying to say here? I’ve deduced two problems with poetry today. For one, something has changed our willingness to read, explore, and recognize the value of poetry. Secondly, modern poetry has divorced imagination and has become exclusive. For instance, I can read Robert Frost to any audience. However, I cannot do the same with poems written by Rupi Kaur. This is not only because of the explicit language and content, but events described (sexual assault, puberty, and depression) are concepts that children along with other adults may not understand or identify with. While I think these are important topics to discuss, not everyone can just buy these collections of poems and enjoy it. 

So, again, what am I trying to say? I am not arguing for the revival of antiquated language, or for people to serenade the world like Shakespeare, or even for the imitation of early modern poetry. I am asking (dreaming) for the revival of the creation and sharing of poetry that provokes the imagination. Like we exchange numbers in the form of currency, we should share words in the form of poetry. 

Again, this is not to disregard our already niche groups of poetry, such as slam poetry, spoken word, music(arguable),or some of our now more popular forms of written poetry, such as free verse and prose, that are well read in society. But I find that imagination is slowly fading away one word at a time, the imagery that poetry paints with the use of evocative and entrancing language. We are forgetting the purely beautiful and simplistic notions that make our souls sing and sigh with contentment. Additionally, we are losing the communal aspect of poetry that was utilized during the times of Homer, except through exclusive means (slam poetry and spoken word). 

In the end, I want to get lost in the images of a Red Wheelbarrow or the serene Lake Isle of Innisfree. I want my emotions to be swept up by Fire and Ice and Hope—is a thing of feathers—or brought down by The Weary Blues. I want my ideals to be shaken and left vulnerable, like when I read We Wear the Mask, or be inspired like Still I Rise. And after I’m done reading, I want to be able to have deep—or menial—discussions with others that can share the same appreciation, but not in a class setting. How about while eating lunch or simply hanging out? I want it to be as common as if we were talking about weekend plans or the weather. Sadly, so many poets are lost to dust and their words lost to the wind, but their teachings and their goals can be transcended to new and present voices. 

Art is art and I do not shame present forms of art, but I most admire the quality and form lost to antiquity, and wish it weren’t so. A creative writing professor once told me that those who read and ingest beautiful things will create and pour out beautiful things. So, I will continue to read, create, and express myself (like the dead poets) through a now unpopular form of language that I find so beautiful. 

October 2022