Nairobi — Poetry, as an art form, is perhaps the most complex in the literary discipline. Efforts by critics to determine what distinguishes good poetry from bad poetry have never borne much fruit.

Going by the recent exchanges in Literary Discourse pages about Tony Mochama's anthology, What If I Am A Literary Gangster?, it is understandable why it is difficult to agree.

About a year ago, a critic referred to Carolyne Nderitu's poetry, Play Your Drum as rhythmic nonsense. Neither has Stephene Partington's SMS & Face to Face, nor Eric Mwangi's Harvesting Gold received any acclaim.

No amount of teaching can turn someone into a good poet. Like painting and music, the art of poetry cannot be taught. Poets are only born, not made. It is difficult to teach one to be an accomplished poet if one does not have the gift. Training can only complement the gift that is already there.

Carl Gustav Jung, the Jewish influential thinker and founder of analytical psychology, argued that great writers have become so because of some mysterious wounds inflicted upon them in their childhood. He believed people write in an attempt to reconcile themselves with childhood traumas.

I take this argument with a pinch of salt. Carl's theory could be true but excludes the evidence of other arguments.

There are many writers who have produced great pieces of work and yet their pride was never wounded during their childhood.

Plato, the ancient Greek thinker, is partly right when he argues: "All good epic poets are able to compose not by art but because they are divinely inspired or possessed."

There are many out there who possess the soul of a poet but they do not know it. When Nadir Shah, the militant ruler of Iran, in 1739 sighted the enormous magnificent diamond from India's Mughal emperor, Mohammed Shah Rangeela, he got excited and uttered: "Wallah! Ean Koh-I-Noor Ast (Oh! it is a mountain of light)."

This sentence was in itself poetry, and yet Nadir was never known to be poetic. The diamond has since then been known as Kohinoor.

Poets are born of any race, tribe and can have any level of education. When a grandfather shouts "Abana aba bongo tiborakong'a (little brats, your brains are unripe)", he is reciting poetry without his knowledge.

When someone refers to another in Luo thus; "En ondiegi (He is a hyena)", the metaphor has beautifully turned into poetry.

As a natural poet, you do not need to usurp so much energy from your system to come up with a poem. This does not mean that those who do not have the gift cannot write a poem. There are many who do not have the gift of poetry but have managed to survive in the art.

Unlike a painter or a musician who may go through some universal schooling, a poet has to expose himself to the art and interact with his colleagues. His other technical education may be by the editors and magazines.

Talents show early

A born poet will realise that he or she starts writing early. You cannot claim to be a gifted poet by suddenly starting to write as an adult.

Take Rudyard Kipling. He started writing verse at the age of 14. At 16, his first book, School Boy lyrics - a collection of poems - was privately printed. At 17, he started contributing articles and poetry to magazines.

At 17, Christina Rosetti (author of Goblin Market and Other Poems) had two poems accepted by the weekly Anthenaeum. At 19 (in 1950) she was a major contributor to a renowned magazine, Germ.

However, is a born writer simply a pupil who enjoys essay writing at school more than most? No.

Geoffrey Ashe in The Art of Writing says that such is a pupil who launches out into literary ventures which his teachers have not asked for - ventures which may conflict with his school work.

The well-known poet, Philip Larkin, wrote a thousand words at night after doing his homework. He also wrote poetry, which he said he bound up in little books.

He did too much out of his schoolwork. When he was only 18, his first poem Ultimatum appeared in the Listener magazine. At the age of 23 (in 1945) he published his first poetry book, The Northship.

The young writer is so much like someone in semi- darkness, groping. He is not sure of what he is supposed to do; he scribbles anything and is not specific. He does not concentrate on one kind of writing.

Ashe in his book, The Art of Writing, says: "The junior author is liable to be scrappy, to lack staying power, to make innumerable false starts. He may fill his book, but very likely with fragments; bits of abortive self-written magazines, carefully lettered headings followed by only a single sentence."

He may know what he wants to write. But he may grow up to write something quite different.

One might argue that many of our writers start writing late in life. For instance Geoffrey Hill got his first poetry book, For the Unfallen, published at the age of 27 (1959).

Elizabeth Jennings had her collection of poems published in Fantasy Press at the age of 27 (1953).

Edward Thomas had his poems published at the age of 36. Even if the poet publishes late in life, as in the case of the above, usually you will find that he or she did not suddenly begin writing then.

The poet's maladjustment combines with his talent to endow him with a peculiar gift. He can dream other's dreams better than they can; not by art, but because - to use Kennedy Chilande's words - they have been divinely inspired or possessed by spirit.