Poets and Philosophers

There is a temperamental difference between poets and philosophers—and this difference has corollaries. Philosophers want answers. Poets want projects. Reality offers an infinity of answers, none of which is satisfactory. As a consequence the philosophical will drives on relentlessly until it has reached a concept that dissolves all further questioning. This answer, in one form or another, is God—albeit its expression may be a kind of negative, like the concept of nirvana. A brief but comprehensive formulation of this may be found here, although the context is broader.

The experience of creative endeavor is quite different. Engaged in one, the poet is totally absorbed—sometimes tortured, sometimes elated, but always completely engaged in the project. When the effort is finally done, when the feelings of regret have begun to fade (“I wish I could have done it better, this is wrong, that is weak, etc., etc.”) the poetic mind, after a brief and contemplative interlude, in which the project’s aura is still present, begins to search for what is next. The motivational structure of the poetic mind is endless creation. The sheer fact that engagement in it is to be in eternity, not, repeat NOT in time, takes away all of the negatives that usually accompany the feeling of “same old, same old.” For the creative person there is no such thing. There is the bliss (sometimes manifesting as agony) of being in the creative flow. Then nothing else matters—indeed everything else is just a distraction. And there is the void at all those times when, as yet, the new is not tangibly present, even as a seed.

Our cosmological systems are built by philosophers. They end in ways the poet can’t genuinely value. His or her reaction is, “And then…” This sort of thing is treated with negative rejection by the philosophical mind. It wants closure. The poet wants the story to go on—if not in this project then in another. Poets create mythologies. They have no problem whatsoever with a story that never ends. But it must have a wave-like pattern, with rises and falls, with obstructions, conquests, defeats, and triumphs. And like a child, when the story is over, the poet will want to— hear it again.

Mind you, poets have no monopoly over creativeness, and many philosophers are among the most creative people of all. But in that case they too are poets…