For January, February, and March I offered a variety of short stories. I'd like to offer a selection of poems as well in an effort to make it even easier to fit reading into the current upheaval. I'd love to hear suggestions from you as well, so please don't hesitate to email me with poems that you would like featured over the course of the next few months. Some of these poems I use for teaching, some are old favorites, and some are new delights. So, in no particular order, here is the first group of poems I enjoy.
1. I have to start with a little poem from Lord Byron called "So We'll Go No More a Roving."
So we'll go no more a roving
So late into the night,
Though the heart be still as loving,
And the moon be still as bright.
For the sword outwears the sheath,
And the soul wears out the breast,
And the heart myst pause to breathe,
And Love itself have rest.
Thought the night was made for loving,
And the day returns to soon,
Yet we'll go no more a roving
By the light of the moon.
2. "Pete at the Zoo" by Gwendolyn Brooks
I wonder if the elephant
Is lonely in his stall
When all the boys and girls are gone
And there's no shout at all,
And there's no one to stamp before,
No one to note his might.
Does he hunch up, as I do,
Against the dar of night?
3. "The Wolf" by Georgia Roberts Durston
When the pale moon hides and the wild wind wail,
And over the tree-tops the nighthawk sails,
The gray wolf sits on the world's far rim,
And howls: and it seems to comfort him.
The wolf is a lonely soul, you see,
No beast in the wood, nor bird in the tree,
But shuns his path; in the windy gloom
They give him plenty, and plenty of room.
So he sits with his long, lean face to the sky
Watching the ragged clouds go by.
There in the night, alone, apart,
Singing the song of his lone, wild heart.
Far away, on the world's dark rim
He howls, and it seems to comfort him.
4."Can I Have a Word" by Bo Burnham
Can I have a word, please?
It can be any word.
Just give me a word.
We can share all the rest.
Just let me have one.
It can be anything.
I'd take canteen or avid.
I'd even settle for timely.
But you can't use my word,
whatever it is,
without asking.
Because it's my word.
And I'll almost always let you use it when you ask.
Unless, for example, my word is wonderful
and you want to use it to describe a movie I haven't seen yet
or a movie I saw already and didn't care for.
I really want everything.
That's my first choice.
Flabbergasted is a close second.
5. "Bohemian Rhapsody" (Pop Sonnet) by Erik Didriksen
Is this the waking world, or do I sleep?
I find I can't be rous'd, to my dismay;
but you should not for this delinquent weep
for I'm a brute whose soul's been toss'd away.
O Mother sweet, I bring thee news of dread–
my life's at end, for I've another slain.
I press'd my crossbow up against his head
and loosed its bolt away into his brain.
–but hark! I see a dark and ghostly form
amidst the lightning launch'd by Jove on high!
The cries for mercy, silenced by the storm,
are futile; I'll not be realeased, but die.
–My fate now seal'd, 'tis plain for all to see:
the wind's direction matters not to me.
6."Springtime" by Nikki Giovanni
in springtime the violets
grow in the sidewalk cracks
and the ants play furiously
at my gym-shoed toes
carrying off a half-eaten peanut
butter sandwich i had at lunch
and sometimes i crumble
my extra graham crackers
and on the rainy days i take off
my yellow space hat and splash
all the puddles on Pendry Street and not one
cold can catch me
7. "In the Fog" by Lilian Moore
Stand still,
The fog wraps you up
and no one
can find you.
Walk.
The fog opens up
to let you through
and closes behind you.
8. "Song" by Michael Stillman
Love is a green girl
Holding a rose
Alone in a garde
Where nobody goes.
Time is an old man
Everyone meets
On trolleys and ferries
And cobblestone streets.
9. "Yellow Man, Purple Man" by Emily Dickinson
Who is the East?
The Yellow Man
Who may be Purple if He can
That carries the Sun.
Who is the West?
The Purple Man
Who may be Yellow if He can
That lets Him out again.
10. "Forgotten Language" by Shel Silverstein
Once I spoke the language of the flowers,
Once I understood each word the caterpillar said,
Once I smiled in secret at the gossip of the starlings,
And shared a conversation with the housefly
in my bed.
Once I heard and answered all the questions
of the crickets,
And joined the crying of each falling dying
flake of snow,
Once I spoke the language of the flowers . . . .
How did it go?
How did it go?
Thanks for joining me! Stay tuned for the next set, sure to include some American Transcendentalists, Dark Romantics, found poetry, and more. Remember to email me at carrianne@carriannedillon.com with your suggestions and recommendations for poems you'd love to share with the world!
–C