National Poetry Month April 2009

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Here is a link to past National Poetry Month posters -- The Emily Dickinson one is creepy (in a good way).

National Poetry Month Posters

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National Poetry Month
by Elaine Equi

When a poem
speaks by itself,
it has a spark

and can be considered
part of a divine
conversation.

Sometimes the poem weaves
like a basket around
two loaves of yellow bread.

"Break off a piece
of this April with its
raisin nipples," it says.

"And chew them slowly
under your pillow.
You belong in bed with me."

On the other hand,
when a poem speaks
in the voice of a celebrity

it is called television
or a movie.
"There is nothing to see,"

say Robert De Niro,
though his poem bleeds
all along the edges

like a puddle
crudely outlined
with yellow tape

at the crime scene
of spring.
"It is an old poem," he adds.

"And besides,
I was very young
when I made it."

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Copied from Poetry.org

Celebrate the second national Poem In Your Pocket Day on Thursday, April 30, 2009!

The idea is simple: select a poem you love during National Poetry Month then carry it with you to share with co-workers, family, and friends on a date in April (to be announced).

Poems from pockets will be unfolded throughout the day with events in parks, libraries, schools, workplaces, and bookstores. Create your own Poem In Your Pocket Day event using ideas below or let us know how you will celebrate Poem In Your Pocket Day by emailing [email protected].

[Saffron]

National Poetry month is upon us. What will you do to to participate? How about some Guerrilla Poetry. I kinda stole this idea from Guerrilla Art -- art that an individual does in a public place; also known as Street Art. I think I will chalk poetry all around the area that I live -- shhh, I never said that and you never heard it.

If you have any ideas of a way we can't celebrate National Poetry Month here on BT, please, post your ideas!

Hey, a last idea: I will take a picture of one of the poems I chalk and post it here on BT.

[Thrillwriter]

I entered the SC Poetry Initiative 2009 Single Poem Contest. The following is my entry. I'd like to know what you think about it. Ant feedback would be much appreciated. This poeam actually gave me an idea for my next book. Thank you.

Midnight Shift

Beginning at dusk, running the asphalt kicking up dust.
Guided by mile markers riding till dawn, lonely lawman thrusts.
The Codes of Enforcement is the only bible he trusts.

A warrior of sorts, uniform and badge his dedicated identity.
Honor of brotherhood a loner by nature, manner, and tendency.
Solitary courage facing sureness of catastrophe.

White lines to the left, white lines to the right,
connecting quiet hamlets, cities, towns, and sights,
empty dark streets passing the occasional headlights.

Riding on steel belt radials, in his metal steed.
Shotgun mounted on the saddle, he believes in his creed.
Trooper by title often criticized for his deed.

Deer in the headlights, stranded strangers, just as alone,
running different directions, trying to reach home.
Sporadic amber lights, warning a construction zone.

Mechanical sentinel changing colors in the night.
Yield signs, solitary markers of roads and red lights,
all on his travels in his restless bound flight.

Railways, overpasses, caravans of railcars abound.
On roadways of steel, trains pass to destinations all around.
The lone officer speculates what stowage might be found.

As the roads seem to darken, he listens to the radio waves.
Dreaming of home, soft bed, and his woman which he craves.
Running with truckers, merging traffic, an intermittent naïve.

Just past midnight, rain starts to fall in droplets quite light.
Airwaves are quiet and he hopes during his flight,
It could be an early end to his restless shift tonight.

But then comes the call all Troopers do dread.
Heart races, breath quickens as he hears being said,
“Accident on Highway 65, with injured and dead.”

Weary responder he travels, to find in shadowy rows,
twisted metal, wet glass, mangled bodies in throws.
And his shift would go well past first light now, he knows.

Amid tears and truth, through the wreckage he sorts.
Dreams shattered, lives lost and garbled metal transport.
Rain steadily falls, as he consults with his cohorts.

When the sun has risen, the road cleared of glass,
Silently he sits, filling out forms, in amass.
His heart is so heavy for those who hath passed.

Single soldiers, Lone Troopers, who follow the call.
Unsung heroes, midnight guardians, armed forces for all.
To implement the code, a resident warrior stands tall.

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Thrillwriter, thanks for posting an original! I will give feedback soon, am still thinking about the poem.

[Thrillwriter]

Thank you for taking the time to read it. I appreciate it very much.

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In the next few days I will be setting up the treads for National Poetry Month, Please, if you have any ideas post them or email me. Here are my ideas so far:

1. Guerrilla Poetry. A thread with pictures of poetry out in the world, ex. a poem chaulked on the sidewalk.

2. Discussion of E.E. Cummings' book The Enormous Room & selected poetry.

3. R. Frost seems to be a favorite -- how about using the essays posted on the Poets.org site (Sincerities and Contrarieties: 3 Essays on Robert Frost) to discuss Frost as a poet.

4. Write our own poem -- line by line. Anyone can add a line and we will see what we get at the end of the month.

5. ABCs of poetry -- each day a letter will be posted, you add something that begins with the letter of the day, ex. the title of a poem, name of poet, line of poetry beginning with that letter, a word that begins with that letter that is associated in someway with poetry.

6. Great our own list of All Time Greatest Poems. or Poets. Poems would have to be nominated and a case made for inclusion on the list.

&. Or anything else you can think of ...

Like any of my ideas so far?

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I feel sure I know why April was picked for National Poetry Month. I believe there are more poems that mention April than any other month!
Just today, looking for different things, I've come across 3 poems that include April somewhere in the poem. Here is the latest:

I Love You
by Sara Teasdale

When April bends above me
And finds me fast asleep,
Dust need not keep the secret
A live heart died to keep.

When April tells the thrushes,
The meadow-larks will know,
And pipe the three words lightly
To all the winds that blow.

Above his roof the swallows,
In notes like far-blown rain,
Will tell the little sparrow
Beside his window-pane.

O sparrow, little sparrow,
When I am fast asleep,
Then tell my love the secret
That I have died to keep.


Hey, let's start a list.