Why poetry in life?

Do you like poems? Why poetry in life? Of course, many people live without poetry, and all they have is well and without poetry. Of course, they read poems, they were taught in school, but somehow ... without understanding, without pleasure. However, it happens in a different way, it happens with pleasure.

Woman’s Day found out about the Literaturniy Kvartirnik social event and asked why poetry is in life, from the organizers and guests. And I also read poems by three Chelyabinsk authors - they can be seen at the end of the page.

Tatyana Agafonova, organizer of literary home stand in Chelyabinsk:
Tatyana Agafonova

“On October 20, 2017 at the Radisson Blu Hotel Chelyabinsk, with the support of the Administration of the city of Chelyabinsk, a literary apartmentmaster will be held, we are holding it for the fourth time. This is a social event, of course, but not simple - we meet not in order to “show ourselves”, but in order to communicate, in order for our communication to include something for the soul. The culmination of the evening will be a concert of the most read poetess Runet Sola Monova.

From my childhood I had a craving for poetry, poems are always the right words about the important and the good. I love poems and always find important answers to questions in them. Poems are a verbal form of what I experience.Poems for me - this is what always comes at the right moment and gets to the point.

True, it also happened that the poems that they liked were readable after many years. Once, in early childhood, I read Gumilyov's poem - I liked it very much with unusual images, there were waterfalls, clouds in it. Many years later, when we moved from Tajikistan to the Chelyabinsk region, to the closed city of Ozersk, I went to another school - in fact, to another society, where I felt like a stranger. In the class of literature, we began to go through the poetry of the Silver Age, I immediately remembered that poem, and so it turned out to be understandable. All by chance. "

Publication by Sol Monova (@sola_monova)Sep 20 2017 at 9:53 PDT

Maria Krutosova, General Director, Audi Center Chelyabinsk:
Maria Krutasova

“In my opinion, without poetry, our life would be boring, gloomy, sometimes soulless! After all, poetry is a special kind of thinking, a kind of distancing from ordinary, rude, primitive. Without emotions, colorful comparisons, without vivid images, positive, we could not develop and share information. And most importantly - poetry helps to develop a sense of Beauty, style and good manners.

Why am I going to a literary home appliance?For inspiration, flight of thought, for the brightness of emotions, a sea of ​​unforgettable impressions in a warm, friendly, beautiful atmosphere. ”

Natalia Bozhezhyan, head of the Rosbank wealthy clients department:
Natalia Bozhejan

“Why poetry in life? It is very difficult to find the answer ... Why do we need music? Why do we need stars? All this fills our life, colors it with colors, makes us remember that everyone has a heart, a soul. When something deep in the chest suddenly shrinks from the penetrating lines or, on the contrary, it overwhelms the feeling of happiness and inspiration.

I remember once my tired husband came home from work and I met him with a quote from Sola: “How I missed you, Dear, you see a tear in my eye. Take a picture of me so that you can see this tear .... ”And it immediately became fun and funny! That's what poetry is for — for the atmosphere of the soul, I guess.

Why am I going to a literary home appliance?In order to get a lot of positive emotions in the company of friends and acquaintances and then when I meet them, these emotions will be remembered. ”

There are wonderful people who read, listen to poetry, empathize, unite with feelings. And there are those who write, can not write.Woman’s Day represents three different authors living in Chelyabinsk.

Elena Plieva, manager

Elena Plieva, beautiful poems
Photo: Courtesy of Elena Plieva

Drunk august sparkles

And mica paillette on the pavement.

Cold, you are rare forecasts

For the time being I am not sad.

Joy, as if the gift is not accepted,

Evaporated from matte skin.

I again did not become a keeper.

Not entered into the right. So what?

As oil, on the morning rail

Spread out, clip that is acquired.

What passed was a qualifying round.

What will be - September will show us.

Irina Mansurova, numerologist

Irina Mansurova, beautiful poems
Photo: Courtesy of Irina Mansurova

WE ARE A PERSON.

Different we are all so different.

who likes borsch with donuts,

who fries red fish.

We meet, communicate, then we miss ...

and offer to meet

although used for a cup of tea.

By giving, taking,

always changing roles.

Sometimes forgetting about the important

in the eyes of loved ones drowning

we smile ...

forgiving

We are all strange, such strange ...

We can just, in passing, injure

easily touching words ragged,

trying to fix everything after ...

and sometimes not trying.

But nevertheless - gentle WE are all, so gentle,

when with a snow-white smile

warm each other's hearts,

and accept any person ...

in arms.

Different WE are all so different

and amazingly beautiful ...

People of my world

I love you.

Natalya Russkikh, organizer of festive and touring events

Natalia Russian, beautiful poems
Photo: Courtesy of Natalia Russkikh

I suddenly felt scared to grow old,

Never having met with love.

I suddenly became afraid to hurt

And lead an unequal battle with pain.

I suddenly became afraid to leave

Unnoticed from this world

Not having love to find

And put his son on his feet.

Suddenly she thought: “What's behind,

except childhood and summer at sea?

And posts on the social network,

Where is laughter behind grief? ”

It became scary, realizing in one moment,

that in real life is meaningless.

And on Christmas Eve, God's Face

placed on your page.

Thank God, son, mother, friends -

they are, and is not virtual.

Let love and family happen -

this is important, albeit trite.

I'd like to later

when the time comes to look back

I saw the grandchildren, the yard, the house ...

At sunset, lie down and ... do not wake up.



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