An Ode to Poetry

Jackson Decker, Staff Writer • May 1, 2026

Poetry is a lost art. It has a reputation problem. And it is dying—or at least, it feels like it.

In today’s modern world, it’s hard to take our eyes off the handheld computers in front of us. What is so addictive about these TikToks? Maybe it’s about that search for a video that makes a person feel something real.

This search can take an hour of scrolling, yet it keeps people coming back again and again.

Poetry isn’t just art. Poetry offers something different. It is a way to express feelings that you can’t express any other way. We have lost this form of expression almost entirely in today’s culture.

High school students are forced to read poetry and end up hating it. Not because poetry lacks value, but because kids aren’t shown its purpose. Poetry isn’t meant to be decoded like a puzzle with one correct answer. It is meant to be experienced. And no two people’s experience will be the same.

Poets express their feelings and reader receive the words from the pages and discover a new way of seeing life. It is an invitation to feel what you want to feel. Not a test on deciphering ancient literature.

Maybe poetry hasn’t disappeared—maybe it’s just in disguise. Music is essentially poetry played and sang to a tune.

There is a band called Geese with a lead singer and frontman named Cameron Winter. This band is producing some of the most poetic music in this industry today. Their music stands out not only because they sound different, but also because of their lyrical depth.

There are a lot of mixed emotions and feelings toward the band and its music. There is also a lot of confusion about their lyrics—and that is exactly their point.

Geese fans—and those who oppose the band—are both feeling something real. Something you won’t get from scrolling through TikToks and Instagram Reels.

Poetry—whether written on a page or sang in a song—offers something real and lasting.

Poetry isn’t meant to be interpreted the same way by everyone. That’s the beauty of it. A single poem can mean something completely different to every person who reads it.

I am no prophet- and here’s no great matter;

I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,

And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and sinker,

And in short, I was afraid.

-The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock

by T.S. Eliot

To be born in a place of silence

At the end of a telescope

Keep dreaming of a land of science

I put no suffering in your horoscope

There aint nobody with a claim to kindness

You search forever but you never find it