Poetry

Poem in Your Pocket Day 2008, Part 2 (including an appearance by Mayor Bloomberg!)

New Yorkers are celebrating poetry in a big way – For today, April 17th, is Poem In Your Pocket Day! For the next twenty-four hours, all New Yorkers are encouraged to put poems in their pockets – and post their original poems to the NYPL blog. There are events happening all day, and even the mayor's participating (no kidding!):

PRESS CONFERENCE
by Michael Bloomberg
 
Pardon me, sir, I’ve a question or two …
     You.
Sir, you said poetry is a delight…
     Right.
Reading it makes you smarter, more mature?
     Sure.
But is it better for people not to read verse?
     Worse.
Do you read sonnets? Limericks? Odes?
     Loads.
All these short answers. Why?
     I -
Follow-up! What do you in your free time?
     Rhyme.
Could poems appeal to the Press?
     Yes.
But can they help with traffic congestion?
     Next question.
 

As we mentioned yesterday, New Yorkers have been taking the first lines of famous poems and making them their own. Keep checking back throughout the day, in that thread or the comments below, to read the original poems of the latest and greatest Whitmans, Dickinsons and Poes (who, of course, moonlight at your local dry cleaners, law firm and…well…publishing house).

Remember, you can still participate!
Just take a famous first line below
Mold it, weave it and rework it to create,
A poem of magnificent proportions
Which you’ll soon have the world to show!
 
Post your poem here, print out a copy and put it in your pocket to celebrate April 17th – Poem In Your Pocket Day, 2008.

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Short Cut

FLOOD-TIDE below me I watch you face to face; gauging the river's leaping course steady on the grin you make laughing while I inch above the rage on a fallen tree. The water's spring rush is vibrant angry, a roar through it's routine banks. My eye is fixed on the knotted scowl of an opposite tree; I only wanted to find safe passage in short cuts to the mud -beleaguered wood on the other side.

How I Discovered a Poem in My Pocket

I carried a poem in my pocket, but first it started inside, as a feeling rolling around In the dust of my vacant mind where it collected adjectives and adverbs to go with the numerous nouns until it burst from my brain in the morning and spilled all these words on the ground! I used this blank piece of paper To wipe the mess from the floor Then I stuffed this poem in my pocket before I walked out the door. ~Kathie Adams Brown (21 April 2008)