Poetry Countdown: Women's History Month--#3

Gwendolyn Brooks said once, of living in Chicago, one of my favorite places in all the world, "If you wanted a poem, you only had to look out of a window." A poet that views the world that way, that finds poetry in the hidden nuances of everyday life, and that expresses her observations in the beautiful way that Brooks did, is bound to hold a top-three spot on my countdown.

I admit that I didn't always enjoy poetry. In my youth, particularly high school, poetry was a chore--something to read that was nearly incomprehensible. Nowhere near the joy that it is to me today. That is, however, except for one poem: "We Real Cool" by Gwendolyn Brooks. You can read it here or, better yet, listen to Brooks read it herself here. I think you'll see why I found it so entrancing.

Brooks also wrote many poems that captured the African American experience in Chicago...an experience that blacks nationwide could relate to. Take, for example, "kitchenette building," a splendid piece:

We are things of dry hours and the involuntary plan,

Grayed in, and gray. “Dream” makes a giddy sound, not strong

Like “rent,” “feeding a wife,” “satisfying a man.”

But could a dream send up through onion fumes   

Its white and violet, fight with fried potatoes   

And yesterday’s garbage ripening in the hall,   

Flutter, or sing an aria down these rooms

Even if we were willing to let it in,

Had time to warm it, keep it very clean,   

Anticipate a message, let it begin?

Read the poem in its entirety here.

But Gwendolyn Brooks was not limited to being an "African American poet," and I hope no one would dare only categorize her as such. She is truly an American poet, or better yet, a "human poet," as her themes are often universal. One of my all time favorites of hers is "when you have forgotten Sunday: the love story:"

—And when you have forgotten the bright bedclothes on a Wednesday and a Saturday,

And most especially when you have forgotten Sunday—

When you have forgotten Sunday halves in bed,

Or me sitting on the front-room radiator in the limping afternoon

Looking off down the long street

To nowhere,

Hugged by my plain old wrapper of no-expectation

And nothing-I-have-to-do and I’m-happy-why?

And if-Monday-never-had-to-come—

When you have forgotten that, I say,

And how you swore, if somebody beeped the bell,

And how my heart played hopscotch if the telephone rang;

And how we finally went in to Sunday dinner,

That is to say, went across the front room floor to the ink-spotted table in the southwest corner

To Sunday dinner, which was always chicken and noodles

Or chicken and rice

And salad and rye bread and tea

And chocolate chip cookies—

Finish this brilliant poem here.

If you have time, please also give the following poems a read:

• "The Bean Eaters"
• "a song in the front yard"
• "Boy Breaking Glass"
• "my dreams, my works, must wait till after hell"
• "The Mother" (be forewarned...this one is gut-wrenchingly sad)

I don't get around in "poetry circles," so I don't know if Ms. Brooks is a well-known poet or not. Nor do I know how highly regarded she is. In my mind, she's near the top, though. And her contribution to poetry deserves recognition.

Again, if you've missed any of the countdown, please feel free to peruse numbers 10 through 4. And stay tuned for numbers 2 and 1 coming up later this week!

I Heart Poetry Anthologies

It's snowing again. I think five inches have fallen in the last five hours and there's no sign of it slowing. Nights like this, it's kind of nice to be stuck inside with a nice book of poetry to read, don't you think?

I love poetry books. I like collecting big volumes of my favorite poets' collected works: Kunitz, Cummings, etc. I like reading poets' individual books, too--Merwin, Alexie, and Adonnizio are a few I've read recently.

But for some reason, the poetry books I truly adore are anthologies. Like a mix tape on poetry steroids, a good anthology can keep my attention for weeks or more. And it's anthologies I always return to when seeking new poems and poets to read.

I love their diversity--the intermingling of poetic styles, the combination of poets both lauded and unknown--and yet, when they're done right, the anthology flows seamlessly from one poem to the next. And then there's the fact that you can just dive right in, open it to any one page and maybe discover a new favorite or rediscover a poem near and dear to your heart. Yes, anthologies are the cat's pajamas but unlike feline sleepwear, I think I'll never own enough of them.

Oh, I almost forgot one of the best features of some anthologies--introductions! I get a kick out of reading the anthologist's thoughts about poetry and about how they put their collection together. If you read past the obligatory "There were so many good poems that I couldn't include..." you usually get some insight into the method behind their choices.

Wow, I almost forgot another wonderful feature of many anthologies--appendices! I love it when you get to read a little blurb about the poets included in the book. And it's even better when, as in the Best American Poetry series, the poet's own thoughts are included, letting the reader in to the mystical minds of the writers themselves.

Here's one example of an anthology I came across recently, The Poets Laureate Anthology edited by Elizabeth Hun Schmidt:

It includes poems from every poet laureate of the United States. Ever. As well as short biographical pieces about each one. I learned a lot from this book. I did not know, for example, that William Carlos Williams and Gwendolyn Brooks were each nominated to this position (which at that time was called "Poetry Consultant"--although Williams never actually served!). Good stuff.

Here's "Abandoned Farmhouse" by one of my favorite laureates, Ted Kooser:

He was a big man, says the size of his shoes

on a pile of broken dishes by the house;

a tall man too, says the length of the bed

in an upstairs room; and a good, God-fearing man,

says the Bible with a broken back

on the floor below the window, dusty with sun;

but not a man for farming, say the fields

cluttered with boulders and the leaky barn.

A woman lived with him, says the bedroom wall

papered with lilacs and the kitchen shelves

covered with oilcloth, and they had a child,

says the sandbox made from a tractor tire.

Money was scarce, say the jars of plum preserves

and canned tomatoes sealed in the cellar hole.

And the winters cold, say the rags in the window frames.

It was lonely here, says the narrow country road.

Something went wrong, says the empty house

in the weed-choked yard.

Read the rest here.

One of my other favorite anthologies is edited by Naomi Shihab Nye and is called This Same Sky.

It features poems from around the world and is a must have, especially for teachers. Take for example, "I Hide Behind the Simple Things" by the Greek poet Yannis Ritsos. Here's the first stanza...

I hide behind the simple things so you'll find me,
if you don't find me, you'll find the things,
you'll touch what my hand has touched,
our hand-prints will merge.

Read the rest via Google Books.

I could go on and on, I suppose. And still I don't think I've truly captured what it is that I love about poetry anthologies and why I prefer them. Maybe something to explore in the future. If you have a favorite anthology, please share it with us in the comments!

The Treasure Trove That Is The Poetry Foundation

My adoration of The Poetry Foundation is well documented. (I dream of my children saying one day, "Daddy, tell us again about the time you visited their offices.)

For my money there's no other organization out there as devoted to spreading the joys of poetry throughout the land as they are. What would I do without their brilliant Poetry Tool? My Poetry Mix Tapes might not exist! Or without their near-infinite number of poems that are made available to the general public for free? This blog itself might not exist! I have to stop imagining that before I get too upset to continue...

And then there's The Learning Lab. I think it's been a part of their site for some time, but I happened to stumble back into it today and it's definitely expanded. If you're a Language Arts, English, Literature, or Writing teacher, it's definitely something you've got to see.

You'll find essays and articles on poetry, a poetic glossary, discussion guides and over 50 poem guides--which include some combination of annotation, explication, analysis, and discussion. None of this is to be missed. (One thing that I hadn't noticed before were the Poetry Magazine Discussion Guides, which feature essays on reading poetry that have been published in their monthly magazine. Definitely something for me to explore.)

If you check it out, please let me know what you think and how you're using it.

I'll leave you with this poem by Gwendolyn Brooks. It's new to me and it has an accompanying Poem Guide in the Learning Lab. Enjoy.

kitchenette building

BY GWENDOLYN BROOKS

We are things of dry hours and the involuntary plan,

Grayed in, and gray. “Dream” makes a giddy sound, not strong

Like “rent,” “feeding a wife,” “satisfying a man.”

But could a dream send up through onion fumes   

Its white and violet, fight with fried potatoes   

And yesterday’s garbage ripening in the hall,   

Flutter, or sing an aria down these rooms

Even if we were willing to let it in,

Had time to warm it, keep it very clean,   

Anticipate a message, let it begin?

You'll find the final stanza here.