Poetry Break #3: "forget everything you have learned"

Pamela Sprio Wagner explains how to read poetry. I discovered it from the Poem-A-Day e-mail list (which you can sign up for at poets.org) I think anyone who's been through an English class or two knows that poetry can be intimidating but rewarding, so I think she really nails it in this clever little poem.

How to Read a Poem: Beginner's Manual

First, forget everything you have learned,
that poetry is difficult,
that it cannot be appreciated by the likes of you,
with your high school equivalency diploma,
your steel-tipped boots,
or your white-collar misunderstandings.

Do not assume meanings hidden from you:
the best poems mean what they say and say it.

To read poetry requires only courage
enough to leap from the edge
and trust.

Treat a poem like dirt,
humus rich and heavy from the garden.
Later it will become the fat tomatoes
and golden squash piled high upon your kitchen table.

Poetry demands surrender,
language saying what is true,
doing holy things to the ordinary.

Read just one poem a day.
Someday a book of poems may open in your hands
like a daffodil offering its cup
to the sun.

When you can name five poets
without including Bob Dylan,
when you exceed your quota
and don't even notice,
close this manual.

Good Friday: "How a thief had been robbed"

"That's when the irony hit me
That this was revenge
Love had descended
And stolen our pain
Away" ~ Jon Foreman, "Revenge"

Had this song on my mind a lot lately... very appropriate for today. (And Jon Foreman is quite a poet, so you could consider this Poetry Break 2.5, I guess?) The words of this song more than speak for themselves.

Poetry Break #2: "You cannot live and keep free of briars"

In trying to decide on something for this week's NPM post, I
thought of a poem by William Carlos Williams I hadn't read
since college. One of my literature classes involved buying
a WCW anthology, and of everything in the book, this
one really stuck with me. So much is made of fleeting,
romantic love that this seems so beautiful and refreshing.

It's kind of long, so I'll just shut up and let the poem speak
for itself. :)

THE IVY CROWN

The whole process is a lie,
unless,
    crowned by excess,
It break forcefully,
one way or another,
    from its confinement—
or find a deeper well.
Antony and Cleopatra
    were right;
they have shown
the way. I love you
    or I do not live
at all.

Daffodil time
 is past. This is
      summer, summer!
the heart says,
 and not even the full of it.
      No doubts
are permitted—
 though they will come
      and may
before our time
 overwhelm us.
      We are only mortal
but being mortal
 can defy our fate.
      We may
by an outside chance
 even win! We do not
      look to see
jonquils and violets
 come again
      but there are,
still,
 the roses!

Romance has no part in it.
 The business of love is
      cruelty which,
by our wills,
 we transform
      to live together.
It has its seasons,
 for and against,
      whatever the heart
fumbles in the dark
 to assert
      toward the end of May.
Just as the nature of briars
 is to tear flesh,
      I have proceeded
through them.
 Keep
      the briars out,
they say.
 You cannot live
      and keep free of
briars.

Children pick flowers.
 Let them.
      Though having them
in hand
 they have no further use for them
      but leave them crumpled
at the curb's edge.

At our age the imagination
 across the sorry facts
      lifts us
to make roses
 stand before thorns.
      Sure
love is cruel
 and selfish
      and totally obtuse—
at least, blinded by the light,
 young love is.
      But we are older,
I to love
 and you to be loved,
      we have,
no matter how,
 by our wills survived
      to keep
the jeweled prize
 always
      at our finger tips.
We will it so
 and so it is
      past all accident.

Pay it Forward: Made with Love

Stolen from The Coffee-Stained Writer... but then again, it's not really stealing when you're playing Pay it Forward, is it?

Anyway, I think this is an awesome idea. The world could always use more random handmade love. I also count this an opportunity to plug one of my new favorite writing blogs. Drop by and say hello to NP. Her blog is delightful. :)

***

The first five (5) people to respond to this post will get something made by me. This offer does have some restrictions and limitations, so please read carefully:

1. I make no guarantees you will like what I make. Whatcha get is whatcha get.
2. What I create will be just for you, with love.
3. It'll be done this year (2009).
4. I won't give you any clue as to what it will be. It'll be something made in the real world and not something virtual. It may be weird or beautiful. It may be monstrous and annoying. I may even bake something and mail it to you. Who knows? Not you, that's for sure!
5. I reserve the right to do something strange.
6. In return, all you need to do is post this text into your own blog and make five things for the first five to respond to your post. Be sure to include the link to your blog when you comment on this post.
7. Email me with your mailing address to receive your gift!
8. Once I have my five people, I'll post it on my blog.

IMPORTANT: This offer is null and void if I don't see you post your own pay-it-forward on your blog.

Poetry Break #1: Billy Collins

(This is the first in a month-long series for National Poetry Month! Every Thursday at 4pm through the month of April, I'll share a poem or two that I love with thoughts and hope that you'll explore their work. This is my first crack at doing anything with any sort of regularity around here, so suggestions and feedback are welcome!)

I'd never heard of Billy Collins until last year when Donald Miller wrote a happy-fan blog post about his new book Ballistics. And of course, if a writer you admire gushes about someone else's work, it's time to sit up and take notice. A few months later, I checked out Sailing Alone Around the Room at the library and dove into this poet's work... and what delightful work it is! No pretentiousness here... his poetry is very accessible and brilliant in its simplicity. He's also got a wicked great sense of humor in his writing that I love.

Recently, I discovered his poem "Litany" on Susan Isaacs' blog, and it became an instant new favorite. It's my kind of love poem, just because... well, just read it. :) (Or better yet, watch a video of him reading it)

LITANY

“You are the bread and the knife,
The crystal goblet and the wine...
--Jacques Crickillon

You are the bread and the knife,
the crystal goblet and the wine.
You are the dew on the morning grass
and the burning wheel of the sun.
You are the white apron of the baker,
and the marsh birds suddenly in flight.

However, you are not the wind in the orchard,
the plums on the counter,
or the house of cards.
And you are certainly not the pine-scented air.
There is just no way that you are the pine-scented air.

It is possible that you are the fish under the bridge,
maybe even the pigeon on the general's head,
but you are not even close
to being the field of cornflowers at dusk.

And a quick look in the mirror will show
that you are neither the boots in the corner
nor the boat asleep in its boathouse.

It might interest you to know,
speaking of the plentiful imagery of the world,
that I am the sound of rain on the roof.

I also happen to be the shooting star,
the evening paper blowing down an alley
and the basket of chestnuts on the kitchen table.

I am also the moon in the trees
and the blind woman's tea cup.
But don't worry, I'm not the bread and the knife.
You are still the bread and the knife.
You will always be the bread and the knife,
not to mention the crystal goblet and--somehow--the wine.