I love poetry. Not in an emo, all-black wearing college-girl way (although I did go through that phase). But there’s something about the art form that speaks to me (ok, I can be a little emo now and then). I have some all-time favorite poems – like this one, and this one, and this one, but I love finding new poems that speak to me. My friend Lorelei and I call each other at least once a week with a new poem we’ve discovered and its always a highlight of my week – though we’ve been known to get competitve now and then about who can find the most interesting or telling or, usually, shocking verse.
In 2002, NYC, where I was living at the time, created Poem in Your Pocket Day as part of National Poetry Month. In 2009, it went national. I haven’t always literally kept poems in my pocket, but each April 26, I do make a point of finding a poem or two that reflects where I am in my life. Today, I’m about evolution and living a life that’s true to my past and whatever will be my future. And to live in sync with the world. This year I have a couple of poems that are resonating.
Spring in New Hampshire by Claude McKay
Too green the springing April grass,
Too blue the silver-speckled sky,
For me to linger here, alas,
While happy winds go laughing by,
Wasting the golden hours indoors,
Washing windows and scrubbing floors.
Too wonderful the April night,
Too faintly sweet the first May flowers,
The stars too gloriously bright,
For me to spend the evening hours,
When fields are fresh and streams are leaping,
Wearied, exhausted, dully sleeping.
MODERN NATURE by Andrei Voznesensky
on the asphalt road have settled.
Lazing on the asphalt pan they lie.
We drive them round
for cows are sacred!
They are loyal to the highway,
we wonder why.
“Old herdsman, we want our question answered:
Why have the cows gone mad?” “God forbid!
The point is that flies do not like asphalt.”
Those modern cows! The are wise indeed!
They got it, the sly ones! Cattle of genius!
Unlike the poor, unfortunate flies.
“The flies know that asphalt
Those modern flies! They are really wise!
And, of course, like every all-black clad emo girl, I’ll never get over my love of the incomparable E.E.Cummings (caps are intentional, the folks at the E.E. Cummings society say cap, so I cap). Here he is, reading one of the greatest poems ever written: