It’s time again to celebrate poetry. Inspired by Black History Month (February) and Women’s History Month (March), the Academy of American Poets established National Poetry Month in 1996. This month we celebrate the legacy of poets and poetry for their contributions to our culture and lives. It’s also a great time to encourage people to read and write poetry.
I wasn’t always a poet, but when I stepped into the water, I never looked back. I’m lucky to live in a place where writers and poets abound. For me, poetry is always alive and well; so, it’s with great appreciation and gratitude that I have seen this annual celebration of poetry continue to grow. Now more than ever we need poetry.
If you’ve been following my blog, then you’ve heard me talk about the annual Poem-A-Day challenge. Honestly, I don’t know if he started the whole crazy thing, or if he’s just the most well-known proponent, but Writer’s Digest blogger, Robert Lee Brewer, has been encouraging (pushing and prodding) poets across the country to write a poem every day during April for almost 10 years now.
For the last five years I’ve had varying degrees of success completing the challenge. Last year was my most successful year with 30 poems written in 30 days. It was rewarding and satisfying, but it wasn’t easy. Will I be able to do it again? Do I want to try? Frankly I’m undecided. But I couldn’t resist writing one today, April 1. If you want to try your hand at this, check out Robert’s blog, Poetic Asides, for daily prompts. This is the poem I wrote to his first prompt:
For today’s prompt, write a morning poem. Maybe you’re a morning person, maybe not. Your poem can be about a morning. Or it can be set during the morning. And those who’ve done this before probably already know that I have no problem with you interpreting this as a “mourning poem.”
The twelve hour clock is as cruel as April
for the night dweller.
Did Airy know his Greenwich Mean Time
would be my undoing?
My eyes do not open until noon
with is neither a.m. or p.m.
The truest meridian is midnight.
Time is a state of mind.
Morning is when I make it.
Brunch is at always at two.
Where is my coffee?