Whereas with poetry no one has to show anybody really, and you

"Whereas with poetry no one has to show anybody really, and you don't have to tell anyone you're doing it." Roger McGough's words speak to a profound freedom that lies at the heart of poetry—a freedom to create, to express, and to be without the need for external validation or approval. Unlike the visual arts or performance, where the work is often meant to be seen by others, poetry is an act that can be deeply personal, an intimate communion between the poet and their inner world. There is a mystery in poetry, a whisper that flows from the poet’s soul to the page, and in this act, there is no obligation to share, no need to explain, and no demand to conform to any external expectations. In this sense, poetry is an expression of pure freedom, a sacred space where the poet is not bound by the gaze of others but instead can speak to the self, and by doing so, to the universe.

In the ancient world, poets were often seen as seers, gifted with the ability to perceive truths beyond the reach of ordinary people. Homer, the blind poet of ancient Greece, did not create his epics because he had to show them to anyone or seek anyone's approval. He sang of gods and heroes, of fate and war, not for glory, but because the words flowed from him, unbidden, from the depths of his being. His poems were not born of performance but of truth—a truth that could only be understood by those who were willing to listen with an open heart. Homer did not have to tell anyone he was creating; his words spoke for themselves, echoing through the ages not because they were displayed in the market square, but because they spoke to the soul of all who heard them.

The act of writing poetry is an act of profound self-expression. There are no rules or expectations when the poet is alone with their thoughts, their emotions, their vision. It is a space where one can release what is most deeply felt, and in doing so, find their true voice. Poetry does not demand to be seen or understood by others—it simply exists, a reflection of the poet’s heart, waiting to be discovered by those who are ready. This is what McGough means when he speaks of the poet not needing to "show anybody" or "tell anyone" they are writing. The very act of creation is sufficient, for the poet knows that their words carry their truth, regardless of who is there to witness it.

Consider the quiet mysticism of Emily Dickinson, whose poems were largely unpublished during her lifetime. She wrote not for the approval of society, nor for fame or recognition, but because she had to. Dickinson was a poet whose words were born from solitude, from the depths of her inner world. Her poems were an intimate reflection of her soul, and she never sought to present them to the world in any formal way. Yet, her poems speak to us still today, not because she shared them with the world, but because they were so true, so raw, so deeply felt. She did not need to tell anyone she was writing—her poetry speaks louder than any declaration ever could.

This ability to write in silence, to create in solitude, is one of the most powerful aspects of poetry. It is not a performance that must be staged or a commodity that must be sold. It is an act of truth that exists in its own right, whether anyone sees it or not. Poetry is a form of self-liberation—it allows the poet to speak to the world through the medium of words, but without the pressure of expectation or the constraints of public scrutiny. In the silence of writing, the poet finds freedom. There is no need for an audience, for the words themselves become their own witness. The poet becomes a silent prophet, speaking not for fame, but for the joy of expression.

The lesson here is clear and powerful: true art, especially poetry, comes from a place beyond the need for external validation. It arises from the soul, from the inner world that is uniquely personal and cannot be constrained by the demands of others. Poetry is freedom—freedom to create, to feel, and to speak without the expectation of being heard. In our own lives, we must remember that the act of creation is sacred in itself, regardless of whether it is ever shared with the world. The value of poetry lies not in its audience, but in the truth it reveals to the poet and, perhaps, to those few who are ready to listen.

To honor this freedom, let us embrace the act of writing—not as a performance, but as a gift to the self. Let us create without the burden of expectation, without the need to show our work to the world or seek its approval. Instead, let us write for the joy of writing, for the release of what is within us. Create, not because you must show your work, but because in creating, you become more fully yourself. Let poetry be a sanctuary, a place where you are free to express all that is true within your heart, without fear or hesitation. Only then will your work reflect the true spirit of the poet—untouched, unspoken, and unbroken.