A new book of poetry

Yesterday I got three books from Amazon; Plan B by Anne Lammott, Silent to the Bone by E.L. Konigsburg (the same writer of From the Mixed up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler!), and The Hell With Love, by Mary D. Esselman and Elizabeth Ash Velez. The last book is one of poetry. There are two other companion books to it, You Drive Me Crazy, and Kiss Off: Poems to Set you Free, which I already have.

The thing I like about these books is that they mix up poems from different eras. Ezra Pound is mixed in with Philip Larkin and John Donne. Dorothy Parker is next to Shakespeare and Margaret Atwood.

I love poetry. I love the way I can read a poem in a certain time of my life and it speaks to me. I love how inscrutable some poems are.

Although, I must state here, I'd be happy to never hear Casey at the Bat again.

Okay, so I'm going to post a poem (probably not supposed to) I read last night that touched me and the way I've been feeling for a couple of weeks:

Somewhere a Seed

Somewhere a seed falls to the ground
That will become a tree
That will some day be felled
From which thin shafts will be extracted
To be made into arrows
To be fitted with warheads
One of which, some day when you least expect it,
While a winter sun is shining
On a river of ice
And you feel farthest from self-pity,
Will pierce your shit-filled heart.

Michael Fried


Dramatic, right? Yeah, well, that's the thing about poetry too. One can be dramatic without being mocked or talked out of it. It is what it is.

Happy poetry month.