All month long, we’ve been celebrating the art of poetry. National Student Poet Madeleine LeCesne introduced “former teen poet” President Barack Obama at the White House Poetry Workshop, we discussed how to make poetry fun and accessible to kids, and we announced Nick Cannon’s new poetry book Neon Aliens Ate My Homework and Other Poems.
Today, the last day of National Poetry Month, is Poem in Your Pocket Day! Originally created in 2002 by the Office of the Mayor, in partnership with the New York City Departments of Cultural Affairs and Education, this special day encourages people throughout the United States to celebrate the literary arts by selecting a poem, carrying it with them, and sharing it with others throughout the day. Today, the On Our Minds team joined in on the fun—we selected our personal favorite poems to share with you!
Check out our team’s poetry picks below and be sure to share your “poem in your pocket” on Twitter using the hashtag #pocketpoem.
Now it’s your turn. What poem are you carrying in your pocket today?
Dancin’ in the Rain
Written by Shel Silverstein
Picked by Alex Wladich
So what if it drizzles
And dribbled and drips?
I’ll splash in the garden,
I’ll dance on the roof.
Let it rain on my skin,
It can’t get in--
I’m waterproof.
Siren Song
Written by Margaret Atwood
Picked by Morgan Baden
This is the one song everyone
would like to learn: the song
that is irresistible:
the song that forces men
to leap overboard in squadrons
even though they see the beached skulls
the song nobody knows
because anyone who has heard it
is dead, and the others can't remember.
Shall I tell you the secret
and if I do, will you get me
out of this bird suit?
I don't enjoy it here
squatting on this island
looking picturesque and mythical
with these two feathery maniacs,
I don't enjoy singing
this trio, fatal and valuable.
I will tell the secret to you,
to you, only to you.
Come closer. This song
is a cry for help: Help me!
Only you, only you can,
you are unique
at last. Alas
it is a boring song
but it works every time.
The Raven
Written by Edgar Allen Poe
Picked by Gina Asprocolas
THEME FOR ENGLISH B
Written by Langston Hughes
Picked by Deimosa Webber-Bey
The instructor said,
Go home and write
a page tonight.
And let that page come out of you---
Then, it will be true.
I wonder if it's that simple?
I am twenty-two, colored, born in Winston-Salem.
I went to school there, then Durham, then here
to this college on the hill above Harlem.
I am the only colored student in my class.
The steps from the hill lead down into Harlem
through a park, then I cross St. Nicholas,
Eighth Avenue, Seventh, and I come to the Y,
the Harlem Branch Y, where I take the elevator
up to my room, sit down, and write this page:
It's not easy to know what is true for you or me
at twenty-two, my age. But I guess I'm what
I feel and see and hear, Harlem, I hear you:
hear you, hear me---we two---you, me, talk on this page.
(I hear New York too.) Me---who?
Well, I like to eat, sleep, drink, and be in love.
I like to work, read, learn, and understand life.
I like a pipe for a Christmas present,
or records---Bessie, bop, or Bach.
I guess being colored doesn't make me NOT like
the same things other folks like who are other races.
So will my page be colored that I write?
Being me, it will not be white.
But it will be
a part of you, instructor.
You are white---
yet a part of me, as I am a part of you.
That's American.
Sometimes perhaps you don't want to be a part of me.
Nor do I often want to be a part of you.
But we are, that's true!
As I learn from you,
I guess you learn from me---
although you're older---and white---
and somewhat more free.
This is my page for English B.
1951
She Tells Her Love While Half Asleep
Written by Robert Graves
Picked by Megan Kaesshaefer
She tells her love while half asleep,
In the dark hours,
With half words whispered low:
As earth stirs in her winter sleep
And puts out grass and flowers
Despite the snow,
Despite the falling snow.
[i carry your heart with me(i carry it in]
Written by E. E. Cummings
Picked by Michael Barrett
i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you
here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)
The Road Not Taken
Written by Robert Frost
Picked by Kristen Joerger
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
Cultivo Una Rosa Blanca
Written by José Martí
Picked by Brittany Sullivan
Cultivo una rosa blanca
en junio como enero
para el amigo sincero
que me da su mano franca.
Y para el cruel que me arranca
el corazón con que vivo,
cardo ni ortiga cultivo;
cultivo la rosa blanca.
