In Honor of National Poetry Month, Some Poems I've Loved

I’m working on a short story inspired by a friend’s song I misheard. It’s about a relationship that starts electric, grows hotter, and then fizzles out. And stars. And fate. Ever since I heard the song that inspired me to write about this common tragedy, I’ve been more excited to write it than any of my other many works in progress.

It reminds me of what I called “the saddest poem I’d ever read,” when I was in college. You can find it in E.L. Doctorow’s novel, City of God. He intersperses riffing poems throughout the text; he calls them, The Midrash Jazz Quartet Plays the Standards. Poetic commentaries on classic jazz songs. The one I found so sad is his riffing on Stardust. It’s that classic story I’m trying to write myself - love begins like a burning star and feels like you’re in the Garden of Eden; but like all stars, love fades away and you’re left with stardust and memories of paradise lost. You can find most of it excerpted on google books here

The lines that saddened me the most were:

What’s worse of all is when he’s alone in the night

but she’s there, she hasn’t gone.

He recalls the time they were one

Which is the only paradise we can presume

to try for

Though of short duration

lasting not as long as a rose in bloom.

So now they’re not in the Garden anymore

Like he was the only boy in the world

and she was the only girl

but sitting in opposite chairs in the living room

And maybe he’s reading the paper or pretending to

and she has a book or a Bible

and between them they have nothing to say to each other

Except to try to coordinate their doctors’

appointments.

Keep in mind that when I first read it in college, I hadn’t read that many poems. Keep in mind that I had yet to love or to be loved. But I remember reading it and worrying that whatever joy I’d ever find in loving another would eventually fail.¹

And it had only been a semester or two earlier that I had realized I could enjoy poetry. Unaware of narrative poems, I preferred stories over poetry. I dismissed poetry because “nothing happened.”

Then a poet named Craig Arnold visited my campus and on the enthusiastic recommendation of my bow-tied professor, I went to his reading. First, Arnold performed his poem. I’d yet to frequent slam-poetry competitions, so his reading was my introduction to poetry reading like a dramatic monologue. He read a poem that was kind of a shopping list, but also heart-breaking. For a long time, it was my favorite poem. It’s a story, it rhymes, it makes me want to call my mom. You can read it here, or google, ‘Hot by Craig Arnold.’

Also in college, a friend in my Creative Fiction Writing class said to me, “You should read James Tate. He’s your style.” So I did. And he was.

Poems that read like stories. Absurd. Playful.

So if you were to ask me today, who is my favorite poet, if I don’t say, “Kendrick Lamar,” I’m going to say, “James Tate.”

I don’t have a particular poem to recommend that I love more than the others, but whenever I cross paths with a James Tate poem, I usually leave smiling. You can find a bunch of his poems here. The first poem listed in the poems chosen by readers, The Cowboy has all the elements I love about his style - playfully strange, unpredictable, and surprisingly moving. Goodtime Jesus is fun. Really, I like to just sample his stuff at random. If you read all the poems on his webpage and want more, they’re all over the place. He was a famous and beloved poet.

Happy National Poetry Month. April. It’s not that bad a month.

1. I was a little nervous to re-read it for fear it might describe my marriage now! Luckily, no! My worry was unnecessary! My wife and I coordinate much more than doctor appointments! We also have to figure out who is dropping the boys off at school or taking our daughter to gymnastics!