Proem

A piece

Of prose

That has been

Divided

Into lines

To make it look

Like a poem.

~From John Governale’s Maine Writing

Poems elude me. I read them every now and then and even find a few that amuse me from time to time. But I’ve never really experienced a soulful connection with any poem.

We had our requisite poetry section in high school English class, and dutifully cranked out poem after poem from limericks to sonnets. At the end of the section, our creative teacher made the classroom into a poetry cafe complete with flickering candles. Each of us chose a poem to share with the rest of the class and I can still remember one girl breaking down into sobs before finishing her poem. I thought she was nuts.

A few years ago in Japan when I was feeling a tad bored and in need of self-improvement, I decided it was time to study poetry. Being a scientist, I didn’t think reading lots of poetry was enough; I had to dissect it. I’d also read somewhere that people often liked poems because of the subject matter when they should really like poems for their rhythm and form. I signed up for a poetry class at Barnes & Noble University, bought all the books, and printed out all the lecture notes. Before I could properly analyze a poem’s meter, I had lost interest. I just didn’t get it.

Then I heard about the Favorite Poem Project founded by Robert Pinsky, the 39th Poet Laureate of the United States. The project asked Americans to share their favorite poems. Some were published in book form as Americans’ Favorite Poems, Poems to Read, and An Invitation to Poetry. Videos were made too showcasing Americans reading and speaking personally about poems they love. That’s when it clicked.

Poems were meant to be read aloud and listened to.

Of course, poems that somehow speak to my life experience will mean more to me than others. But now I don’t just skim through the poems I see in The Atlantic. I log on and listen to the poets read them aloud. And sometimes, I read them aloud too, much to Stephen’s pleasure.*

*Dr. Seuss books count as poetry, don’t they?