Why Do You Write Poetry? – Nathan Curnow

I asked a bunch of poets the above question. I’ll keep posting them until I run out or get distracted.

Nathan Curnow says:

I guess the challenge/complexity of the form just seems to fit with me.  It’s work and it’s play, it’s short and expansive, it’s powerful but also frail.  It’s my wretched joy and the only difficult faith that I seem to be able to live with.

Writing leads me to that point where I am painfully present and yet absent from myself at the same time.  As my fingers smash the keyboard I feel completely engaged, connected, lost and invisible.  The hard burn of concentration keeps me company and for the moment that’s enough.

So yeah, it goes deep.  It fixes me to something.  It sticks me to my chair and each word becomes a balloon that I tie on to it.  I get to see life/the world through language, marvelling at the great colour of it all while exploring the worth of every single word.  It’s a precarious life, flying or falling, and so often I’m overwhelmed.

Stay tuned for more answers in coming months, or send your own answer to adamford [{TA}] labyrinth {[tod]} net {[tod}] au.