Thoughts on poetry.

At the moment I am working on an essay entitled what is the main contribution made by the chorus in a burial at Thebes; written by Seamus Heaney. A giant of a man who blends words so wonderfully, its hard to find an equal.
This however has led me to think about my own work, clumsy as it so often is; and why I actually do it. I started writing because I thought I could do it well; I didn't think I could not, nor did I even consider my grammar. I started writing because I loved short stories, I loved horror fiction and I loved romantic poetry. I have come to love poetry more recently. perhaps its because of the strong visual images I can create, perhaps its because I enjoy the freedom I feel when I write it, perhaps I don't feel I have to try hard... or perhaps its because fiction is harder to write as I have had it hard with books of late. who knows.... I know I should.
What I wanted to say here are my feelings for the love of poetry; and especially spoken poetry.
Poetry on the page, I feel, (so feel free to contend with me) is dead, in as it needs to be read, and read aloud to set its magic free. Grammer therefore, is a vital tool of the poet. And being a self taught in grammar means I do not have the conventions others might hold dear to. Dyslexia is also an issue, leaving myself in a position of... trying to invent conventions of my own, simply to make myself understood, to myself, let alone another. So, some people might say, "how can a loony like Alphadog, harp on hypocritically about something he knows nothing about."
This might be true. I don't deny my inability's but neither do I see them as a fault. They are a strength as the constraints of others prevent them from experimenting. For me, Poetry works its magic when it is spoken, because how the words sound adds to how the words feel, and this lends to the infusion of the work. This might be old hat to some of us out there, it is however new to me. What Seamus Heaney's play has taught me is the power and the beauty of words. science might be made of maths, but humanity is made of words, and words can weave magic when they are wrapped within an ode, or a stanza or completed drama. This has a historical precedence. from a European perspective It begins with the Celts and the religious practices of their priests, the druids.
For those who love all things Greek, I can see the complexities of the Greek tradition of both poetry and plays, however, I do not believe that the Greek texts have the same tradition of spiritual connection with us as do the Celts. There is something magical that comes alive when hearing the ancient tales of Celtic mythology; whose stories passed down through word of mouth, before being subjected to paper, or stone, that makes them far far more connected to our hearts than the Roman or Greek tragedy. This continues onto the present day, and is a great influence upon my own work. something happens when a poem is read aloud, or given birth to. There resonates a connection within us to something hidden, something forgotten due to technology or the pride of man, that is unleashed as the words are spoken. Sometimes its dangerous, sometimes its profound... for me its always wonderful. The Greeks called them muses, or ideas, the irish noted them as willo-the whisps, the ancients called them spirits the Jewish tradition Angels and or demons ... all I know is that they exist, they try to connect with us though poetry, through stories though new concepts given to us, and through this come alive. Are they the dead trying to reach us, or are they something else; I am not sure, but I am keen to know. Because I have come to the opinion that these beings use any means at their disposal to make their presence known.