Poetry has always held a meaningful place in my life- maybe you could say the same for yourself. What I love about it, is its ability to portray truths about ourselves and the world. Poetry is a universal artform, that allows us to express emotion, convey cultural perspectives, and withholds the power to change the world. Poetry is a beautiful thing, but it is sometimes neglected, and underrated. It is National Poetry Month, so I wanted to dedicate an article to show the power and importance of poetry. So without further ado, here are some of my favorite poems that range in themes; hopefully you find them helpful and insightful.
Getting into the Springtime mood:
This poem is lighthearted and mellow, surely it will save you from the coldness of winter, and will get you excited for Spring.
Daisy Time
BY MARJORIE PICKTHALL
See, the grass is full of stars, Fallen in their brightness; Hearts they have of shining gold, Rays of shining whiteness. Buttercups have honeyed hearts, Bees they love the clover, But I love the daisies' dance All the meadow over. Blow, O blow, you happy winds, Singing summer's praises, Up the field and down the field A-dancing with the daisies.
Anxiety and Uncertainty:
What is so fascinating about poetry, is its ability to reveal our unconscious vulnerabilities, and vent the pain that is contained within ourselves. Here is a poem for when your mind gets heavy.
Wolf Fur
By HEIDI HANS
Be very still like a cat waiting on a mouse, like the snow blanketing at dawn. Quieting. Breathing. Allow the cords of pain writhing to stop, to yawn, to gaze at shadows dancing on a safe child’s ceiling; allow the panicked what-ifs squeezing your mind to hold teacups instead and to contemplate the steam rising into the air, in a quaint café on the corner of here and here, now and now, and draw finger circles on the window. Still the thoughts in the midst of their gripping certainties their clutching, heart-stopping march of tears; still them even as the flags of terror are snapping in whirlwinds of cacophony. Be with one muscle. Be with the bracing intestines; Be with the heart so lost but beating the rhythm of life nonetheless. Be with the tiniest muscle you can find. Quiet the lies fountaining forth an endless sermon of doubt, nightmares upon nightmares churning stomach black boxes of twisted code tumbling from unholy heavens. Open all the boxes. Throw their contents into the humming heart of your cultivated presence; ask the one-who-stands-with you always; ask the tree whispers falling around you; ask the small leaves glistening, finding you; ask the wolf radiating the fierce heat of the center of your heart through its fur; ask them to hold your entire experience, every moment.
Empowerment:
For when you are in need of the reminder that you have the power to take on the world.
Still I Rise By MAYA ANGELOU
You may write me down in history With your bitter, twisted lies, You may trod me in the very dirt But still, like dust, I’ll rise. Does my sassiness upset you? Why are you beset with gloom? ‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells Pumping in my living room. Just like moons and like suns, With the certainty of tides, Just like hopes springing high, Still I’ll rise. Did you want to see me broken? Bowed head and lowered eyes? Shoulders falling down like teardrops, Weakened by my soulful cries? Does my haughtiness offend you? Don’t you take it awful hard ‘Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines Diggin’ in my own backyard. You may shoot me with your words, You may cut me with your eyes, You may kill me with your hatefulness, But still, like air, I’ll rise. Does my sexiness upset you? Does it come as a surprise That I dance like I’ve got diamonds At the meeting of my thighs? Out of the huts of history’s shame I rise Up from a past that’s rooted in pain I rise I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide, Welling and swelling I bear in the tide. Leaving behind nights of terror and fear I rise Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear I rise Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave, I am the dream and the hope of the slave. I rise I rise I rise.
Freedom and Justice:
Poetry has been used through history to make statements of inequality and express personal and ethnic discrimination. One example, was during the Civil Rights movement. Many activists turned to poetry to portray their emotions.
Caged Bird By MAYA ANGELOU
A free bird leaps on the back of the wind and floats downstream till the current ends and dips his wing in the orange sun rays and dares to claim the sky. But a bird that stalks down his narrow cage can seldom see through his bars of rage his wings are clipped and his feet are tied so he opens his throat to sing. The caged bird sings with a fearful trill of things unknown but longed for still and his tune is heard on the distant hill for the caged bird sings of freedom. The free bird thinks of another breeze and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees and the fat worms waiting on a dawn bright lawn and he names the sky his own But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream his wings are clipped and his feet are tied so he opens his throat to sing. The caged bird sings with a fearful trill of things unknown but longed for still and his tune is heard on the distant hill for the caged bird sings of freedom.
Lighthearted humor:
Poetry doesn’t always have to be all deep and serious. It can be fun too. He is a poem about fortunes you may find in a fortune cookie.
New Lines for Fortune Cookies By JAMES MASAO MITSUI —after Frank O’Hara You have been smiling across the table at your date with a sesame seed stuck in your teeth. You will gain sophistication, become accepted by Reader’s Digest, and retire in Puyallup. In your next life you will be a teacher and no one will ever call you by your first name. After your next vacation you will come home and discover that your neighbors have redecorated in the style of Iowa trailer court. If you feel like you’re getting old, secretly plant zucchini in your neighbor’s flowerbeds. Avoid people who iron their sheets or roll their socks & underwear. Painting and poetry and music will show us where we should be going, not the senate or tv news. The next thermos bottle you see will actually be a listening device made in Korea. All the people in this restaurant are glad that they are not you.
Political and Empowering:
Poets use their voice to be heard in controversial matters. They will critique and elaborate on social issues to evoke change and awareness.
Believe, Believe By BOB KAUFMAN
Believe in this. Young apple seeds,
In blue skies, radiating young breast,
Not in blue-suited insects,
Infesting society’s garments.
Believe in the swinging sounds of jazz,
Tearing the night into intricate shreds,
Putting it back together again,
In cool logical patterns,
Not in the sick controllers,
Who created only the Bomb.
Let the voices of dead poets
Ring louder in your ears
Than the screechings mouthed
In mildewed editorials.
Listen to the music of centuries,
Rising above the mushroom time.
Wanderlust and Travel:
There are times when you are so inspired to get up and go out into the world. To venture to magnificent places to view breathtaking sights. Here is a poem to spark your inner traveler.
The Road Not Taken
By ROBERT FROST
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
Love is Love is Love:
For when you are in love with someone, or just sick to be in love; love can overcome all of us, and make us experience whimsical and passionate feelings. Sometimes love just plain out sucks, but i guess it can be pretty great.
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You
By PABLO NERUDA I do not love you except because I love you; I go from loving to not loving you, From waiting to not waiting for you My heart moves from cold to fire. I love you only because it's you the one I love; I hate you deeply, and hating you Bend to you, and the measure of my changing love for you Is that I do not see you but love you blindly. Maybe January light will consume My heart with its cruel Ray, stealing my key to true calm. In this part of the story I am the one who Dies, the only one, and I will die of love because I love you, Because I love you, Love, in fire and blood.
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