I’ve been suffering from some vague anonymous illness for the past week and a half, which is no fun. Unlike this poem’s protagonist, I’ve not been playing hooky, though on the plus side, it’s been very quiet in my office this week. In honor of mystery sicknesses, here’s one of my childhood favorite poems, which as I recall I memorized for a contest in middle school. Sick by Shel Silverstein ‘I cannot go to school today, ‘ Said little Peggy Ann McKay. ‘I have the measles and the mumps, A gash, a rash and purple bumps. My...
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Poem of the Week
Have you ever before encountered a poem with a camel in it? I hadn’t. Man and Camel by Mark Strand On the eve of my fortieth birthday I sat on the porch having a smoke when out of the blue a man and a camel happened by. Neither uttered a sound at first, but as they drifted up the street and out of town the two of them began to sing. Yet what they sang is still a mystery to me— the words were indistinct and the tune too ornamental to recall. Into the desert they went...
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One of my all-time favorites. The Summer Day by Mary Oliver Who made the world? Who made the swan, and the black bear? Who made the grasshopper? This grasshopper, I mean– the one who has flung herself out of the grass, the one who is eating sugar out of my hand, who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down– who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes. Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face. Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away. I don\’t know...
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Billy Collins is one of my very favorite poets. His writing is accessible and readable, and I appreciate those things, along with his wit and good humor and insight. Litany by Billy Collins You are the bread and the knife, The crystal goblet and the wine . . . Jacques Crickillon You are the bread and the knife, the crystal goblet and the wine. You are the dew on the morning grass and the burning wheel of the sun. You are the white apron of the baker and the marsh birds suddenly in flight. However, you are...
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Hi (virtual) friends, I’m sorry for my recent absence, but not TOO sorry — I’ve been in sunny California, and it is marvelous. Mountains, oceans, cool breezes, lots of good food… it’s been wonderfully vacation-y. And yet, I am still making time to share this gorgeous poem with you. It is by W.S. Merwin, who was just named the new U.S. Poet Laureate, a job the Library of Congress describes as “the nation’s official lightning rod for the poetic impulse of Americans.” Merwin currently lives atop a dormant volcano in Maui; it’s unclear whether he will relocate...
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A friend suggested this week’s poetry pick, telling me that a) it is her favorite and b) she has it memorized. So did I! Said friend also offered me homemade baked goods today, so obviously I would have been obliged to post her favorite poem even if I did not also like it. Which I do. Point being, if anyone else would like to share a poem with the many, many readers of V&V, please note that I take well to bribery, especially when it involves food. If Rudyard Kipling If you can keep your head when...
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You Reading This, Be Ready Starting here, what do you want to remember? How sunlight creeps along a shining floor? What scent of old wood hovers, what softened sound from outside fills the air? Will you ever bring a better gift for the world than the breathing respect that you carry wherever you go right now? Are you waiting for time to show you some better thoughts? When you turn around, starting here, lift this new glimpse that you found; carry into evening all that you want from this day. This interval you spent reading this or...
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I first discovered this poem freshman year of college in a Comparative Studies class that sometimes met outside (it was spring quarter). I loved that we would go outside, and that otherwise we would all sit around a huge table instead of at desks, but the class itself was only so-so. Still, thank you to the professor whose name I don’t remember for introducing me to Rita Dove. This poem is from Dove’s collection Grace Notes. And it definitely makes me yearn for tree-climbing days of yore. HORSE AND TREE by Rita Dove Everybody who’s anybody longs...
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I can’t believe it’s already the end of May. Or that it’s almost 90 degrees here in DC. Anyway, despite the August-like-heat, it’s peak wedding season: I went to one last weekend and am going another this weekend, and pretty much everyone I know seems to be attending weddings as well. Yay for newlyweds! And hideous bridesmaids’ dresses! And personalized napkins! And sentimental speeches! And, you know, love and all that. So for this week’s dose of poetry, I picked out this sweet one by former US Poet Laureate Ted Kooser. It appears in his 2008 collection...
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Another long week almost over, and for those of us in DC, a forecast of warm sunny weather all weekend long. I’m excited to check out Yoga on the Mall tomorrow for the first time (kicking off DC’s annual Week of Yoga, wherein yoga studios all over the city offer free and $5 classes. Pretty sweet). In honor of the apparent turn to summer, here’s a poem about one of the summeriest things I know of. I hope you all have a great, relaxing weekend. Sunflower by Frank Steele You’re expected to see only the top, where...
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