A few blogs over the past week have mentioned poetry. Whether quoting poetry as a comment on recent events or pointing to a recent article on short stories that quotes US poet laureate Billy Collins, these brief inclusions made me realize that I've got a sort of on again/off again thing with poetry. I'm very hot/cold. When it's on, it's on. When it's not...eh. I've read poetry for years, yet I've failed to keep it top of mind, failed to tap into it each day/week/month for the precision (of word, of thought, of meaning) that can only be found in poetry. Instead, I reach for it only when in need, become obsessed all over again, then drop it a month later just as quickly as I took it back up.
I realize this is foolish. Any writer, of any stripe (or none, in my case) can learn a great deal about language, rhythm, meaning, double meaning -- word economy -- from poets. Every time I'm reminded again that poets exist (why must i need reminding? this is crazy. what is wrong with me?), a few specific poems & poets leap immediately to mind. Phrases that have always struck a chord (but always? how can it be always if i forget until i'm reminded?) spring forth and bloom again within me. I lug out all my poetry anthologies, every slim volume from every poet I've admired over the years, every photocopied page of handwritten lines from a friend at a reading. As soon as I re-read the words that have inspired me again and again, I am renewed, strengthened. Fortified. After spending time with poets (in print or in person), my own writing becomes better, more succinct, clear, full of life. Regular readers will likely wish me to read poetry every morning in an effort to stem the tide of words that often flows here and could (always) be pared, shorter, sweeter. Clearer. So why, why do I keep forgetting that poetry exists?
Ironically, one of the anthologies I always reach for when I fall back in love with poetry is Against Forgetting - Twentieth Century Poetry of Witness edited by the divine Carolyn Forche. "Bearing witness to extremity -- whether of war, torture, exile, or repression -- the volume encompasses more than 140 poets from five continents, over the span of this century [20th] from the Armenian genocide to Tiananmen Square." This collection contains works by some of the best poets I've ever read & introduced me to a slew of others I'd not yet read when I first encountered this anthology many years ago.
The second collection I pull out as soon as I find myself getting all hot and bothered by poetry (hot/cold, hot/cold) is Aloud - Voices from the Nuyorican Poets Cafe, edited by Miguel Algarin, founder of the Nuyorican Poets Cafe in New York city which showcases "the work of the most innovative and accomplished word artists from around America." The introduction by Bob Holman begins with this: "DO NOT READ THIS BOOK! You don't have to. This book reads to you." I have always loved that beautiful intro and find it to be remarkably true of this collection. It features spoken word poets that I had never read until happening upon this collection (thank you Quincy Troupe for lighting the way) and their work is so powerful it's simply unacceptable that I only remember them once a year at most.
In honor of these powerful poets and a few others that I find spilling out of my shelves and yet not spilling out of my mouth, not crowding my mind on a daily basis as they no doubt should be, I declare this "let's make our love of poetry less spasmodic" week. Or, more simply (because isn't that the point of poetry? at least for me? economy of words? less is more? all that?): rediscover poetry week. I'll be taking a look at some of the poets that I keep revisiting again and again (but not often enough) and I'll explore how poetry informs and inspires those who do not write poetry, but fiction. I hope to hear from all of you about the poets you read, the poets you don't, and, when all is said and done, what role these poets and their poetry play in the creation of your own work.
