People wish to be poets more than they wish to write poetry, and
People wish to be poets more than they wish to write poetry, and that's a mistake. One should wish to celebrate more than one wishes to be celebrated.
"People wish to be poets more than they wish to write poetry, and that’s a mistake. One should wish to celebrate more than one wishes to be celebrated." So declared Lucille Clifton, a poet whose words rang with honesty and light. In this saying lies a timeless warning: that the pursuit of glory without devotion to the craft is emptiness, and that to seek the crown of recognition without first bowing before the work itself is folly. For to be called a poet is but a title; to truly write poetry is to labor with the soul, to give voice to what stirs within the depths of the human spirit.
The ancients knew this lesson well. Did not the sages warn against the vanity of seeking praise? The wise understood that honor pursued directly becomes hollow, but honor that comes as the fruit of true devotion has roots that endure. To wish to be celebrated is to hunger for smoke; it vanishes quickly, leaving the heart still unsatisfied. But to celebrate—to pour forth gratitude, truth, and wonder in words or deeds—is to feed a fire that warms not only oneself but all who gather near.
History offers us clear examples. Think of Homer, who sang not of himself but of the deeds of heroes, of gods, and of men. He did not write to be celebrated, for in truth his very life is veiled in mystery, scarcely known to us. Yet because he celebrated the greatness and struggles of others, his words endure for thousands of years. His poems are monuments not to his name, but to the human spirit. The glory he did not chase has outlived empires.
Contrast this with those who have craved the title of artist or poet without loving the art itself. Many have adorned themselves with borrowed feathers, desiring to be thought wise, profound, or creative, yet producing little that bears the weight of truth. Their works, made only for applause, vanish like mist. For what is born only of vanity cannot endure. The world forgets them quickly, as the desert swallows shallow footprints. But the one who writes from celebration—who rejoices in beauty, who honors truth—plants seeds that bloom long after their own life has passed.
Clifton’s words carry a call to humility. Do not waste your strength in wishing to be admired. Do not hunger to be seen as wise, noble, or poetic. Instead, fix your heart on the celebration of life itself. Let your writing, your work, your speech be an offering of joy, of truth, of beauty. For admiration is a shadow, but celebration is substance. When you pour yourself into the work with love, the honor you deserve will follow, and even if it does not, your soul will still be satisfied.
The lesson for us, then, is clear: the goal is not recognition, but devotion. Whether in art, in service, in leadership, or in love, strive not to be celebrated but to celebrate. Do not ask, “How can I be admired?” but “What can I honor, what can I uplift, what can I rejoice in today?” In this way, your life itself becomes poetry, not because of what others call you, but because of what you truly embody.
Practically, this means turning your attention outward. Write poems not to glorify yourself, but to honor the beauty of the world, the resilience of people, the mystery of existence. If you paint, paint to reveal wonder. If you speak, speak to encourage, to heal, to lift. Celebrate others, celebrate creation, celebrate the fleeting and the eternal. And if recognition comes, let it be a byproduct, not the aim.
So remember, children of tomorrow: to be a poet is not the goal; to write poetry is. To be celebrated is not the aim; to celebrate is. In this lies freedom. In this lies joy. And in this lies the true immortality that no applause, no title, no fleeting fame can ever give. For the one who celebrates has already tasted eternity.
VHVo Hang
Clifton’s words resonate deeply because they speak to a truth about motivation. Do we create because we love the process and the message, or because we want to be acknowledged? I think that true artists, like Clifton suggests, should focus on the celebration of their work, not the fame that comes with it. Can we truly create with passion if we’re constantly chasing recognition, or is it the love of the craft that should drive us?
PUNguyen Phuong Uyen
This quote made me think about how society often pressures people to focus on outcomes, like recognition, instead of the process of creation. What happens when we prioritize celebration over the actual work? Could it lead to shallow efforts, or does it somehow fuel our passion for creating? I think Clifton is reminding us that the true joy lies in the act of creation, not in seeking external validation.
HHDao Huu Huynh
Clifton's quote challenges the way society views artists and creators. Is it more important to create something meaningful or to be recognized for that creation? I wonder if we often lose sight of why we create in the first place because we focus too much on fame or recognition. Maybe the true joy of being a poet comes from celebrating the art itself, not the title that comes with it.
DHle duy hoan
I find this quote really thought-provoking because it highlights how people often seek titles and recognition more than the genuine process of creating art. It makes me ask: Do we care more about the label we wear, like ‘poet,’ than the purpose of our craft? Perhaps true fulfillment comes from the work itself, rather than from the praise we hope to receive. Can we create without worrying about being celebrated?
BTngoc anh banh thi
Lucille Clifton’s quote makes me think about the difference between the desire for recognition and the true essence of creating art. Is it that we often desire the title of 'poet' because it represents status, rather than the work itself? How much of our creative drive is influenced by the desire to be seen and celebrated? This makes me wonder if artists should focus more on the act of creation and the message they want to share, rather than the accolades.