I discovered this definition of a poem quite accidentily today. I am quoting it verbatim.
What Makes a Poem a Poem?
Professor of English
My lecture is called “What Makes a Poem a Poem?” I’m going to set my timer.
It’s not rhyming words at the end of a line. It’s not form. It’s not structure. It’s not loneliness. It’s not location. It’s not the sky. It’s not love. It’s not the color. It’s not the feeling. It’s not the meter. It’s not the place. It’s not the intention. It’s not the desire. It’s not the weather. It’s not the hope. It’s not the subject matter. It’s not the death. It’s not the birth. It’s not the trees. It’s not the words. It’s not the things between the words. It’s not the meter-…
(timer beeps)
It’s the timing.
A poem is at the right time and the right place
Have I understood Professor Bernstein. Is a poem a poem when it is at the right time and in the right place?
Is poetry understanding the needs of the moment, as the moment exists in the river of time? Is understanding the needs of the moment in the river of time poetic?