If I do a poetry reading I want people to walk out and say they

Hear now the words of Roger McGough, whose insight into the true purpose of poetry touches the very core of the human experience: “If I do a poetry reading I want people to walk out and say they feel better for having been there—not because you’ve done a comedy performance but because you’re talking about your father dying or having young children, things that touch your soul.” In this statement, McGough reflects on the transformative power of poetry—not merely to entertain, but to move, to heal, and to touch the heart. He speaks of the importance of connecting with the deepest aspects of human experience—grief, love, loss, and joy—and sharing those moments of vulnerability with an audience.

This echoes the wisdom of the ancients, who understood that true poetry comes not from surface beauty but from speaking to the heart of life’s most profound truths. Consider the Greek tragedians, Aeschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides, whose plays were not simply entertainment but profound meditations on fate, suffering, and redemption. The ancient Greeks believed that theater—like poetry—had the power to cleanse the soul through catharsis, the purging of emotions through art. The audience, in experiencing the pain and triumph of the characters, could confront their own grief, their own struggles, and in doing so, emerge transformed. McGough calls on this ancient tradition, seeking not to entertain with clever words but to provide a space where people can reflect on their own lives and walk away with a sense of emotional clarity and renewal.

Reflecting on the idea of grief and loss, we are reminded of Walt Whitman, whose poetry was deeply rooted in the human experience, speaking to both the beauty and the pain of life. Whitman’s Leaves of Grass resonates with themes of death, birth, and the human connection to the cosmos. In lines such as “I celebrate myself, and sing myself, / And what I assume you shall assume, / For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you”, Whitman does not shy away from the uncomfortable realities of life, but embraces them, inviting the reader to find healing in the shared human experience. Like McGough, Whitman understood that poetry must touch the deepest parts of the soul, revealing both the light and the darkness that reside within us all.

Consider also Sylvia Plath, whose poetry often dealt with deep sorrow and personal struggle. Her poems, such as “Lady Lazarus”, speak of personal torment and a constant wrestling with identity and death. Yet, within her words, there is a cathartic release, a moment of understanding for those who suffer, as well as for those who seek to understand the complexities of their own emotional states. Plath’s work, though intensely personal, speaks to the universal struggle between life and death, and in doing so, creates a space for readers to reflect on their own emotional landscapes. Like McGough, Plath’s work connects the audience to something deeper, encouraging them to confront the tough realities of existence, rather than simply offering entertainment or escapism.

McGough’s vision for poetry readings highlights the deeper purpose of the poet's craft: to offer something that transcends the surface level, something that connects people to the heart of life’s struggles and joys. The poet’s task is not to entertain but to illuminate, to provoke thought, to stir emotions, and to offer a kind of healing through shared experience. Just as McGough desires his audience to leave a reading feeling better for having encountered the poetry, so too should all poetry, at its best, offer a form of emotional communion that elevates the soul.

The lesson here is one of vulnerability and honesty. Poetry that touches the heart is not afraid to address the most painful and beautiful aspects of life—the loss of a loved one, the wonder of parenthood, the complexities of being human. It is through honesty and authenticity that poetry achieves its greatest power, allowing both the poet and the audience to connect on a deeply personal level. Whether in grief, love, or joy, the poet has the ability to transform raw emotion into art, offering it to the world not for entertainment but for healing and connection.

Practical actions follow. As a poet or writer, seek to write with authenticity. Don’t be afraid to confront the difficult parts of life, for it is in these moments of vulnerability that true connection is made. Allow your poetry to be a gift to your audience, not by dazzling them with cleverness, but by offering them a piece of your soul. If you are a reader or listener, engage with poetry not merely for enjoyment, but for its power to illuminate and heal. Let poetry become a tool for emotional understanding, a bridge between your own experiences and the broader human condition.

Thus, McGough’s words teach us that the highest calling of poetry is not to entertain, but to speak directly to the soul, to open doors to shared emotional experiences that bring understanding and healing. Poetry that addresses life’s greatest struggles and joys allows us to confront our own emotions, offering solace and connection in a way that no other art form can. The poet’s role is not to distract, but to transform, to help the audience walk away better, not by escaping life’s difficulties, but by embracing them in the light of shared humanity.