Poetry between Sender and Receiver

nasiraijaz September 10, 2025

0 23 7 minutes read

Ultimately, poetry is a dialogue — sometimes silent, sometimes loud — between souls.

It affirms that creativity is not complete until it touches another, until the sender’s voice finds a listener who, in turn, becomes part of the poetic experience. Thus, poetry continues its eternal journey between sender and receiver, a timeless conversation shaped by both.

Souad Khalil | Libya

Poetry has always been one of the most profound and expressive forms of art. It does not only represent the voice of the poet but also creates a space of dialogue between the sender (the poet) and the receiver (the reader or listener).

This dynamic exchange is what gives poetry its vitality, as meaning is not confined to the words themselves but extends to the interpretations, emotions, and reflections they awaken in others.

A poem often begins as a private whisper, a feeling that takes shape in the inner world of the poet. Yet, once shared, it no longer belongs solely to its creator. It becomes a bridge, a message traveling through language and imagination, seeking resonance in the heart and mind of the receiver. In this way, the poem transforms into a living experience, renewed with every reading, as each receiver interprets it according to their own background, culture, and emotional state.

The relationship between sender and receiver in poetry is therefore not static. It is interactive, fluid, and ever-changing. A single poem can be understood in multiple ways, carrying different meanings across time and place. This diversity enriches poetry and highlights its universal nature, demonstrating how words written in one moment can echo endlessly through human experience.

The relationship between a text and its receiver, whether an individual or an audience, is a complex and intricate one. At the same time, it is multifaceted, extending across different aspects, and can be examined from various perspectives. Reception theory today stands as a central axis of modern literary criticism.

Modern critical approaches—such as deconstruction, for instance—grant the reader a supreme authority in the process of literary communication. The reader becomes the sole master of the situation, tasked with interpreting the text, directing it in any way they choose, and projecting upon it their own thoughts and emotions, severing it from its author, its historical and social context, or the circumstances of its creation. In this intellectual trend, the “open text” becomes subject to endless interpretations and unstable meanings, incapable of being contained.

Dr. Walid Ibrahim Qassab, in a study published in an article, asserts that deconstruction is “the authority of the reader alone,” replacing the authority of the author or the authority of the text, as suggested by other schools of thought. Undoubtedly, this is an exaggeration of the reader’s role, for the literary process is in fact built on three pillars: the sender (the poet), the receiver (the reader/audience), and the message (the poem). Each has an essential role, and none can be diminished for the sake of another.

The poet seeks to be innovative, unique, and truthful. Yet, they cannot ignore that their work addresses a particular audience. They attempt to establish a relationship with the reader, to move them and gain their admiration, without compromising their own integrity or sacrificing the intellectual and poetic values they hold. In short, the poet strives to enter the world of the receiver through their own self, engaging in a dialogue that captivates without flattery, and without descending below the high artistic level that poetry demands.

The receiver, in turn, expects poetry to reflect their aspirations and concerns, to resonate with their inner self, and to offer both enjoyment and intellectual nourishment. Yet they are not exempt from responsibility. They must rise to the level of the text, equipped with the tools of understanding and aesthetic appreciation, capable of discernment and perception. Without this, they become like the figure al-Mutanabbi described:

“He who has a sickly mouth will find even pure spring water bitter.”

The poem, then, serves as the bridge that connects sender and receiver. It must possess radiance, brilliance, and the capacity to reach and affect others, without becoming an obscure or inaccessible riddle.

Thus, if the receiver is a vital element in the equation of literary creation, they are not, as deconstruction suggests, “everything.” Literary history shows us poets whose works were applauded by audiences, but whose poems vanished like soap bubbles—read once, then forgotten. Conversely, some poets of great talent ignored their audiences, disregarding their role, and so their poetry failed to spread or endure. Yet there are poets who held firmly to all three elements of creation, offering brilliant poetry that expressed their own beings while simultaneously resonating with the public, thus securing admiration and longevity.

Poet and receiver are interdependent. The Russian writer Tolstoy once said of art:

“It is a human activity in which one person transmits to others feelings he has lived through, and others are infected by these feelings and experience them as well.”

Art is a form of confession, and the poet finds solace in such confession. They need someone to share in their emotional experience, someone to whom the contagion of feeling can be transmitted. However obscure the stages of artistic creation may be, art—in all its forms—retains a clear mission: communication and transmission. Thus, the receiver is inevitably and consciously (or unconsciously) present in every act of creation. No literary work can exist without its three pillars: sender, message, and receiver. A poet who writes without a receiver in mind is essentially writing only for themselves; this may be acceptable if they intend to keep their work private, but once they decide to share it, disregarding the receiver becomes unjustifiable.

Dr. Omar Farrukh remarked:

“A poet must either consider his audience or eliminate them from his account. But if he eliminates the reader, why then publish his poetry in a collection, or recite it before others?”

Advocates of “art for art’s sake,” detached from society, morality, religion, or logic, write only for themselves and a small circle of peers. But what use is their poetry to the wider public?

The receiver, therefore, remains a fundamental component of the creative process. Classical Arabic criticism emphasized the poet’s need to account for their audience, adapting language to suit the listener’s state and context. Rhetoric, after all, was defined as “the conformity of speech to the requirements of the situation.” Much meaning has been lost in poetry because poets neglected to consider the circumstances and capacities of their audience.

Poetry, then, is not mere self-address; it is a discourse with others, a means of connection and communication with an audience. The poet, as a human being, addresses fellow humans, and no poet truly writes in isolation. A poet is both an individual and a member of society, shaped by their time, place, and social environment. Whether in sympathy, in rebellion, or even in denial, the imprint of society remains visible in their work. Every artistic act carries two dimensions: one social, rooted in lived reality, and another individual, springing from imagination. Both presuppose the existence of others—readers, listeners, or viewers—who engage with the work to find insight, vision, or solutions to shared human concerns.

The poet’s question—“For whom do I write?”—is itself proof of vitality, responsibility, and respect for art. Alongside the questions “What do I write?” and “Why do I write?”, it forms a sacred triad. Every poet has the right to choose their audience, but audiences themselves also vary—specialized and general, elite and mass. Some poets proudly write for an intellectual minority; others embrace the masses. Nizar Qabbani, for example, called for poetry to be like “bread that enters every household.” Neither elitism nor popularity guarantees superior artistry; rather, each serves a different purpose and appeals to different sensibilities.

Receivers may also be classified by their nature into three categories:

The Immediate Audience – those whom the writer envisions while composing, whether real or imagined, and to whom they direct persuasion, consolation, or even confrontation.
The Social Audience – the community to which the writer belongs, which imposes certain expectations and constraints.
The Universal Audience – transcending temporal, geographic, and social boundaries, and thus imposing no constraints at all.

Ultimately, writing exists only to be read. A text becomes literature when it is decoded by readers, transforming mere linguistic signs into intellectual meaning. Whatever the audience’s type, their presence is indispensable in the creative act. Without the intent to communicate, poetry risks collapsing into solipsism.

The intense presence of the receiver is often manifest in the poet’s belief in one of the following:

– The humanity of poetry,

– The social role of poetry,

– Poetry as communication with others.

Throughout history, critics have identified various functions of poetry, but two enduring qualities remain: delight and benefit. Dr. Johnson expressed the humanistic aim of poetry as “to enable the reader either to enjoy life better, or to endure it better.” Keats likewise believed that poetry should feel like a recollection of noble thoughts already familiar yet forgotten, while Ezra Pound remarked that reading Hardy’s poems restores fragments of one’s own forgotten life.

Poetry, then, grants us a heightened awareness of life, enabling us to relive it, discover hidden dimensions, and awaken new sensitivities. Matthew Arnold argued that poetry’s power lies not in explaining cosmic mysteries, but in presenting things in ways that stir fresh, profound responses within us.

Great poetry, therefore, resonates deeply because it expresses both individual and collective experience. It addresses life in all its richness and complexity, serving as a living record of what people have observed, felt, and endured. As Hudson wrote, “Literature is an expression of life through the medium of language,” and Coleridge added, “Literature is criticism of life.”

The deeper a poet’s engagement with life, the greater their resonance with the public. Immersed in the struggles and concerns of their age, breathing with the heartbeat of society, they draw nearer to their audience. For poetry is not merely a technical craft of words and rhythms; it is a revelation of the value of human existence.

Thus, to achieve vitality, poetry must unite artistic brilliance with human and social meaning. Literature is the expression of both the “I” and the “we”—the individual and the collective—through artistic form. The mission of poetry is to reveal the significance of human experience. And though it may live in its words, inseparable from the language that embodies it, poetry ultimately thrives only through the dialogue it establishes with others.

Ultimately, poetry is a dialogue — sometimes silent, sometimes loud — between souls.

It affirms that creativity is not complete until it touches another, until the sender’s voice finds a listener who, in turn, becomes part of the poetic experience. Thus, poetry continues its eternal journey between sender and receiver, a timeless conversation shaped by both.