Brief History of Poetry

Much like everything else, there is history behind something—why it was made, how it was made, and why it even existed in the first place.

I won’t be digging too deep into that. I’m no historian, and learning poetry is more than just what happened in the past… somehow, in some sort of way.

But still, it’s fun to know a few bits of it.

Magic spells are words used to call forth powers to shape and alter reality. Magi, sages, and wise men used these words to do great things.

Of course, I wouldn’t really know—I’m just a fan of stories about magicians. I’m certainly not one.

So, poetry.

As discussed, poetry is words grouped into lines and verses that add soul to the ordinary.

Remember the red ball and how it bounced?

But why—or rather, how—did poetry come to be?

It began much like early history itself, with symbols and writings etched on rocks, stones, and glyphs. These were records of the past. But records are never only what is written and passed down.

In its earliest form, poetry lived as songs—sung by bards, traveling singers who earned a living by performing from place to place. They carried news from one town to another.

So in a way, it was like a news report—but less structured, and more like a tale, a story, a song.

At its simplest, the songs that tug at the heart are the ones most easily remembered, understood, and rewarded.

And yes—songs are poetry.

From these bards, the stories spread to the people who heard them. But as mentioned earlier, these were records—unwritten ones. And while unwritten stories are easier to spread, they don’t stay exactly the same.

To explain, think of a game children play.

They line up, and one person starts by doing a gesture that only the next person can see. That person passes it on to the next, and so on.

By the time it reaches the last person, it’s rarely the same as the original.

That is how stories travel.

And while poetry and stories are different, they are still both forms of art.

Poetry uses lines and verses. Stories use sentences and paragraphs.

But both follow structure—nouns, verbs, descriptions, pauses, and rhythm. They are not as different as they seem.

Going back—have we talked about the history of poetry?

Tales passed from bards, shared as songs, carried by people, and retold again and again.

As these stories travel, they begin to change.

They grow.

They stretch.

A simple moment becomes something greater.

A king jumping over a small crack in the ground… becomes a king flying over a great cliff.

And this is how stories—and poetry—transform over time.

They are remembered not just as they were… but as they were felt.

So poetry began not as something written, but as something spoken, sung, and shared.

And later on, when people felt the need to go beyond the restraining structures of grammar, poetry took form.

Why go beyond the rules dictated by grammar?

It’s simple.

Poetry is putting into words what cannot simply be contained by words.

It is coining terms, performing great feats, conjuring the very essence of magic—even without truly being able to.

That is poetry.

Have I not mentioned it already, or have you not heard it said before?

Poetry is putting life into the ordinary.

It is putting soul into the common.

It is making the simplest of things feel grand.

In essence…

isn’t that magic?