I still ignore how a good poem is done, but I do acknowledge many good poets along the history that I know, or at least, I recognize those who were not. Also, a good poem is not necessarily a great poem and, admitting that the reader completes it and gives it its full meaning, or part of the many partial meanings, I have to say that my taste, my preferences, or my sensibility have changed with the passing of time and circumstances. Nevertheless, the disorder of the categories is never absolute nor arbitrary: good poems always remain as good poems for me, but some make the leap to becoming great poems due to personal determining factors. The poetic creation has always been a mystery to me. I know that the building of a poem has a part of craft and a lot of work and dedication. But those are the elements at play once the product is already fabricated. The election of an adjective, a verb tense, or a meter do not explain the fundamental questions that have taken us to that point in which we can start choosing: where does it come from?, why?, since when it has been with us?, it comforts us or it haunts us? I refer to that poem that we are finally producing, although it may turn out wrongly.
Poetry has give me everything, specially considering how little I have given it in exchange. It has not only provided me with a way of seeing, thinking, and feeling the reality, I believe that in a richer way than if I used other eyes, but has also provided me with a conception of the world, always open and in awe, that has been built with people and places that I would not have met any other way, and which have been conforming my nostalgia, my emotions, my needs, and my life. It has even provided me with love, because heartbreaks are always our fault.