Poetry As Panacea

"Poetry is an echo, asking a shadow to dance." (Carl Sandburg)



Whether it was because Mom read Mother Goose Nursery Rhymes to me as a young child or for some other inherent reason, I have always loved poetry.
As a young teen romantic, I began copying poems I liked into a white, spiral notebook. I used a nib pen and ink the color of claret.

Wordsworth's "I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud" was in there as well as Shakespeare's Sonnet #18, "Shall I compare thee to a Summer's day..." Sometimes the poems weren't complete - just a stanza or two I had heard or read somewhere. I would check a book of poems out of the library, looking for ones to copy into my notebook. That was when I began to realize that poetry had a calming effect upon me. I could read a novel and escape into another world for a time, but as soon as I put the book down, reality returned. But if I was upset, undecided, at wit's end, I could read poetry for awhile, put it down, and a peacefulness would stay with me.

I was in my twenties before I tried to write any poetry. I'm sure those attempts were pretty juvenile.

In my thirties (the 1970's) free verse and blank verse forms of writing poetry became popular. It was much easier to write poetry without having to worry about rhyming and meter. Consequently, I wrote more poems.

Another decade passed before I got interested in trying to write poetry again. I took an adult ed class through the West Des Moines Schools when I was in my late forties. The instructor was a very interesting retired priest. He was going to teach writing rhymed, metered poetry - no free form or blank verse for him.

The first night he began with something easy - he had us writing Limericks. They are five line, usually humorous poems with a strict rhyme scheme (aabba). For example:

There once was a woman from Corning.

She jumped up to go to work each morning.

Retired and moved to Creston,

Whereupon she gets her rest on.

No longer is she forlorning.

The class was an interesting mix of a dozen or so - men and women, mostly middle-aged, although there were some younger and some older. We were all there for various reasons. I remember Mike Pace was in the class - he of the Iowa Lottery hosting as well as Iowa Realty's show of homes. As a musician, he was taking the class in order to help with writing lyrics.

When we had to write a poem in iambic pentameter, I wrote about the ring of Grandma Lynam's that I received after she died. I didn't realize how meaningful it was until I choked up when I had to read it aloud in class.

I've used a Sandburg quote, here is one I like from JFK: "When power leads man toward arrogance, poetry reminds him of his limitations. When power narrows the area of man's concern, poetry reminds him of the richness and diversity of existence. When power corrupts, poetry cleanses." Weren't Sandburg and Frost Kennedy's favourite poets?

I've been feeling the urge to try writing poetry again. Perhaps to add something to my blogs. Or maybe just to give my brain a bit more challenge. Writing Haiku could be a start:

Cattle and a pond

A photo op not taken

You remembered.