On poetry

hope in the small things

April is National Poetry Month. You can find out more about National Poetry Month, started in 1996 by the Academy of American Poets, on poets.org.

I became truly interested in poetry when I taught it to young people. Prior to that, I may have read some poems here and there. I hadn’t written many. Teaching poetry - to fifth graders, to my own children, and in our homeschool co-op - deepened my interest in not only reading but also writing poetry.

Poetry is sometimes perceived, I think, as abstract or complex or inaccessible. However, just like any genre, it can be absolutely anything. It’s fun to enter poetry through some of the more structured formats. With young people, we’d write acrostic poems or haiku or limerick. It’s also fun to listen to poetry read aloud. Hence the popularity of spoken word formats and poetry slams.

I’ve always enjoyed sharing this poem by Maya Angelou with people of all ages. The imagery is strong and relatable. Popcorn, words, and reading are a few of my favorite things!

“I Love the Look of Words”

Popcorn leaps, popping from the floor
of a hot black skillet
and into my mouth.
Black words leap,
snapping from the white
page. Rushing into my eyes. Sliding
into my brain which gobbles them
the way my tongue and teeth
chomp the buttered popcorn.

When I have stopped reading,
ideas from the words stay stuck
in my mind, like the sweet
smell of butter perfuming my
fingers long after the popcorn
is finished.

I love the book and the look of words
the weight of ideas that popped into my mind
I love the tracks
of new thinking in my mind.

by Maya Angelou

***

Three of the most popular posts on my blog are poems: “When your dad dies” - on grief; “This baby” - about my infant son’s open heart surgery; and “all you mommas” - an ode to moms everywhere.

Four years ago, at the beginning of the pandemic, I wrote the poem “The world is not ours” and shared it on my blog. It’s a nice snapshot of the shaky uncertainty (and tender hope) we all felt at the time.

The world is not ours - April 6, 2020

On my first morning run,
thoughts crowd my mind
and I do not remember
that I was sure I would die.
that I was sure I could not
make it to the end of the block,
when I started this run.
It's been several months,
since I last ran,
since the summer,
since school started.

I keep running and
keep thinking about
groceries and gloves,
masks and mail,
Clorox and cancellations
toilet paper and testing,
antibodies and absentee ballots,
online school and
the latest news on CNN.
I make it two miles.
I'm done running.

I walk to the forest,
by the river, where
gray squirrels scatter,
unseen birds call,
ducks float downstream
on gentle currents.
Four deer stroll nearby,
hidden in early spring's
brown template.
They regard me briefly
and continue on.
These fellow travelers
are unaware of
quarantines and respirators,
of the tragedy of
mounting human deaths
on planet earth.

I stand and breathe in,
I breathe in the river,
and the trees, and the
blue scilla carpeting
on the forest floor.
I breathe in a world
that is bigger than
the thoughts
crowding my mind.
I breathe in...
hope.

by Mary Krawczyk

***

Just as it was that April four years ago, the scilla is blooming and carpeting the woods in our neighborhood again. I feel the symbolism of that. Everything changes. The ups and downs, the joys and heartbreaks, the ebbs and flows, the triumphs and the tragedies.

And always the scilla returns. Change is constant. The cycles of the seasons are dependable through it all. I take comfort in that. In nature. And in poetry.

Koenen Land Preserve - 04/06/2024

***

I’ve shared some poetry here on Substack too, including: “This is 55” - on aging; “Metamorphosis” - on change and being true to yourself; and “Seen and unseen.” I recently recorded a reel of that last one as a creative project on vulnerability and trying new things. You can see it on Instagram:

marykrawczyk_writer

A post shared by @marykrawczyk_writer

There’s lots of source material for poems in the natural world. Just look at the intricacy of the otherworldly yellow catkins at the top of this post! Inspiring. I’m hoping to self publish a chapbook of some of my nature poems this year. Now that I’ve mentioned it publicly, there’s accountability to get working on that.

And of course, I’ll be reading poetry this month and throughout the year. For now, I’m going to dip more into the volume below. (Thanks, Lori!)

***

How about you? Do you like poetry or not? All opinions welcome!

Do you have a favorite poem or poet? Please feel free to share in the comments.

Thanks for reading!

With gratitude,

Mary