There have been two popular subjects for poetry in the last few
There have been two popular subjects for poetry in the last few decades: the Vietnam War and AIDS, about both of which almost all of us have felt deeply.
"There have been two popular subjects for poetry in the last few decades: the Vietnam War and AIDS, about both of which almost all of us have felt deeply." These words by Thom Gunn speak to the profound role that poetry plays in capturing the deep emotions of a generation, particularly during times of crisis. Poetry, in its purest form, is not simply an art of beautiful words or intricate structure—it is the expression of the collective soul of a people, the mirror through which we witness our greatest struggles, our fears, and our losses. Gunn identifies two moments in recent history—the Vietnam War and the AIDS epidemic—as key sources of profound emotion, universal grief, and an exploration of the human condition, which have led to an outpouring of poetry that speaks to the heart of humanity.
In the ancient world, the poet was often a witness to the events of their time, recording not just the history but the emotions that those events stirred in the hearts of people. Consider Homer, who, through the Iliad and Odyssey, captured not only the events of war but the human spirit—the honor, the loss, and the grief of the warriors. The Vietnam War, in the latter half of the 20th century, became a defining event for a generation. The echoes of anger, disillusionment, and confusion reverberated in the hearts of those who lived through it. The poets who emerged from that time were tasked with the delicate work of expressing these raw emotions, translating the chaos and the tragedy of war into words that could help people process their collective pain.
The Vietnam War left its mark on society—not just in terms of politics and history, but in the hearts and minds of people across the world. The poets of this era, like Robert Bly, Denise Levertov, and Yusef Komunyakaa, did not simply write about the war as an event—they wrote about the devastation, the human cost, and the moral questions that arose from it. Gunn’s words remind us that poetry has the power to give voice to the grief and the confusion that follow such an event. The words of these poets speak the unspoken, they express what cannot always be said in ordinary conversation—how does one reconcile the horror of war with the sanctity of life? How does one process the overwhelming feeling of loss, of suffering, of witnessing destruction? Poetry, in this sense, becomes a healing force, a way to make sense of the chaos and trauma of war.
Similarly, the AIDS epidemic became a defining tragedy of the late 20th century, one that struck not only at the lives of those afflicted but at the soul of a generation. The crisis was not just about the disease itself but about the fear, the stigma, and the grief it carried with it. The poets of this time, such as Audre Lorde and James Merrill, did not only write about the physical suffering of AIDS; they wrote about the emotional weight—the isolation, the loss, and the collective mourning of a community torn apart by the disease. Much like the poets who wrote about the Vietnam War, these poets took on the task of giving voice to the unspoken, the pain that couldn’t be easily expressed, the collective suffering that affected not only those directly impacted but also the larger community.
Poetry has always had this capacity—to be a witness, to capture the emotions of a moment, to articulate the inexpressible. The Vietnam War and AIDS are two such moments in modern history where poetry became essential in helping us process what we were experiencing as a people. These two topics, as Gunn points out, became a place where almost everyone felt a connection, a deep emotional resonance. Through poetry, we could confront the brutality of war and the devastation of disease—not just as distant events, but as deeply personal experiences.
The lesson we must take from Gunn’s insight is clear: poetry is not merely an artistic pursuit; it is a vital tool for understanding and processing the most difficult moments of our lives. Whether we are facing grief, loss, or trauma, poetry provides a language for that experience. It allows us to speak the unspoken, to give words to that which would otherwise remain hidden. Just as Homer and Shakespeare gave voice to the human spirit through war, love, and loss, so too do the poets of today speak to the spirit of their time. The AIDS epidemic and the Vietnam War were not just historical events—they were emotional earthquakes that shook entire communities. The poets who responded were not just writing about these events; they were writing about the human soul, about the deepest emotions that rise when life is at its most cruel and unpredictable.
In our own lives, we must learn to embrace the power of poetry to help us process our own collective and personal griefs. Whether we are writing about the tragedies that shape our own experiences, or simply reading the words of poets who speak to our own hearts, we must remember that poetry is a pathway to healing. It is not a luxury or a hobby—it is a necessity for the human spirit. Poetry connects us not just to each other, but to the deeper emotions that bind us all together. Let us, then, create and read poetry not only for beauty, but for truth, for the unspoken emotions that cannot be captured in any other way. In doing so, we will continue the timeless work of the poet: to bear witness to the human condition, to give voice to the silent grief, and to find healing through the shared language of emotion.
CTNguyen Cong Toan
This quote makes me reflect on the responsibility of poets to engage with suffering and societal issues. Is it inevitable that poetry gravitates toward trauma and loss, or can joy and beauty be equally compelling subjects? I also wonder how the framing of these subjects in poetry shapes public perception—does it humanize statistics and history, or risk oversimplifying complex realities into aesthetic expression?
SM13 - Nguyen Hoang Suong Mai
I’m intrigued by the idea that certain historical events become defining themes in poetry. Does this suggest that poetry reflects collective memory and social consciousness more than individual experience alone? It also raises questions about the longevity of such subjects: will future generations continue to write poetry about Vietnam or AIDS, or will other crises take their place as the emotional touchstones of new decades?
XKLe Xuan Khanh
Reading this, I feel both sadness and admiration for how poets engage with these traumatic subjects. Does poetry serve as a kind of emotional processing for both the writer and the reader, especially in the face of events like war and epidemics? I also wonder about the universality Gunn suggests—do all readers truly feel deeply, or does cultural and personal distance shape how poetry about these topics resonates?
QNNguyen Quynh Nhi
This statement makes me wonder why certain societal crises inspire more poetry than others. Is it because the Vietnam War and AIDS had such widespread personal and collective impact that they demanded artistic expression? I also question whether the intensity of feeling is what makes a topic poetic, or if poetry requires a different kind of reflection beyond emotion. Could other contemporary issues evoke similar responses but remain underrepresented in poetry?