Who reads it? For whom is the poet writing?

In "Song of Myself," the great American poet Walt Whitman writes: "This hour I tell things in confidence,/ I might not tell everybody, but I will tell you." Why in confidence? Why will he tell some and not all? Because although nearly everyone could read Whitman if they desired, relatively few actually do. This seems to be the case with most gifts of great worth—available to all, received by few—poetry being no exception. And it is in this spirit—the spirit of open accessibility, but understood confidence—I believe the poet should write.

Poetry will never be read, enjoyed and appreciated by everyone. Most likely it won’t be read by half, even a quarter of the population. The English poet William Wordsworth hoped to reach the masses, the "common man" with his poetry, and he did indeed reach some; but the fact was the vast majority of "regular people," including his neighbors in the Lake District, although they knew he was an author, never actually read his books. Mark Twain famously defined a "classic" as a book that "everyone praises, but no one reads." So it often goes with poetry. Especially in our age of instant gratification and fast entertainment, where it’s much easier to watch T.V. or a movie or read magazines, newspapers, and the internet. Sure, most people have heard about Whitman, Frost, and Wordsworth. Maybe some can even remember some of their lines from school. But few actually really read them.

And those are the classics, the legends. So what are the chances of a living, relatively unknown poet being read? Is it realistic? Is it possible?

Well, I guess the fact that you’re reading this proves that it is. But the fact is a true poet must write, whether he has an audience or not. The process of creation, of breathing life into words to make something entirely new and one’s own; of seeing the finished work on paper, the product of one’s soul and brain, which didn’t exist before, but now has limitless life—this, for a true poet, is the primary reason for writing.

For me, however, it doesn’t stop here. It won’t do to merely write and then stuff one’s creation in a closet or drawer where, hidden from the world, it gathers dust and dies. It’s always been my natural impulse as soon as I finish writing something to share it. I don’t share it with everyone, but I do share it with some. I want to see how it impacts them, how they react. I figure if it really resonates with a few people, if a few really feel it and connect with it, than potentially thousands of others could if my words could only reach them. I’ve often felt like Percy B. Shelley, when in his brilliant poem "Ode to the West Wind" he writes: "Drive my dead thoughts over the universe/ Like withered leaves to quicken a new birth!/ And, by the incantation of this verse,/ Scatter, as from an unextinguished hearth/ Ashes and sparks, my words among mankind!"

It may seem impossible for an unknown poet to publish these days, let alone to be read. But a true poet will not be deterred. He will find a way to release his words and his words will find an audience. It may not be read by everyone, it may not be as popular as a C.D. or a movie or even a novel, but it will find its way into the hands of some—perhaps hundreds, perhaps thousands, some old, some young, some yet to be born—and they will feel it, they will think and wonder and be inspired. A connection will be made that transcends time and space, just as when I’m reading Yeats or Blake or Shakespeare.

A poet must write—for himself as well as for his readers. Who are his readers? For whom does the poet write?

Whatever profession, whatever personality, whatever interests, whatever education, whatever religion, whatever race, whatever age, whatever dreams—

If you’ve picked up this book, I write for you.