It’s National Poetry Month, as I’m sure you’ve heard, so I am posting these quotes, links, questions and favorite poems to share and help you share the celebration.
Poetry is not only dream and vision; it is the skeleton architecture of our lives. It lays the foundations for a future of change, a bridge across our fears of what has never been before.
– -Audre Lorde (as quoted in The Shine Journal)
Poetry is the language in which man explores his own amazement . . . says heaven and earth in one word . . . speaks of himself and his predicament as though for the first time.
Most people ignore most poetry because most poetry ignores most people.
Do you agree with that statement? Are we ignoring contemporary poetry in the K-12 classrooms? Have most poets set themselves above the public? Does supply exceed demand– publication problems, suspect reviews and contests? Can children learn to dislike poetry?
Please post your own favorite lines, (observe copyrights) poem titles and/or poets! Here are a few of my favorite poems:
Aedh Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven
by William Butler Yeats
Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams
from Ode Imitations of Immortality
by William Wordsworth
What though the radiance which was once so bright
Be now for ever taken from my sight,
Though nothing can bring back the hour
Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower;
We will grieve not, rather find
Strength in what remains behind;
In the primal sympathy
Which having been must ever be;
In the soothing thoughts that spring
Out of human suffering;
In the faith that looks through death,
In years that bring the philosophic mind.
from In Flanders Fields
by John McCrae (1915)
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.