Poetry is a Thing (again)

Poetry is a thing again. Old poets are going back through their files and blowing the dust-off stuff that hasn’t see the light of day in decades. At the same time new (to me) poets are on the scene, creating new traditions and pipelines for their work.

I was in National Airport (as us “locals” to the DC Metro still call Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport) when I noticed a pile of rupi kaur’s milk and honey books on a shelf, next to the self-help, sales, and pop-fiction in the newsstand. Wait a moment. I don’t think y’all heard me. There was a poetry book on the shelf, in an Airport newsstand!

Being the true geek that I am, (you know that) I had to check other newsstands in the other Airports I was traveling through. Most of the airports newsstands I checked had milk and honey. One of the larger stores had the book in a shelf by the entrance, next to other “hot” titles like Brene’ Brown’s Dare to Lead. I was floored.

I had never heard of rupi kaur, and frankly I was offended (ahem…jealous) because I didn’t know of her work. kaur’s book seemed to fly below my poetry radar.

Okay. Let’s talk about what (or who) wasn’t on the shelf in the newsstand. I didn’t see any books by any of my favorite or “well known” poets–not even, anything by Maya Angelo.

I didn’t see any of the work of any of the new (to me) poets—although I my obsession with Niyi Osundare’s City Without People: The Katrina Poems lead me to believe that I had flipped through it before at one of BWI’s bookstores or newsstands. I was mistaken (or daydreaming).

I didn’t see any other poetry books: none by any of the award-winning poets I’m familiar with, none by any of the people from prestigious colleges or poetry programs, none by any of the people who attended any of the prestigious retreats, etc.

Through this small, black book, I was peering into young woman’s vital, raw world. What I was holding in my hand was the authentic voice of a poet who, it seemed, bypassed the standard “choose-me poetry process” to be positioned to actually get paid for her work.

Of course, I flipped through milk and honey and here’s what I (re)learned:

• Be honest in your work—don’t hide behind your poems
• Don’t be preachy—be willing to live by your own words
• Your work should be self-contained instead of referential—so much (no one likes a “schmarty pants”)
• Speak of and to real people—not necessarily other poets and critics
• The test of a good poem or collection of poems should be:
  • “can someone live by and with these poems” or
  • “do these poems fit a real (or imaginary) person’s life” or
  • “do these poems tell the reader’s story”
• There’s absolutely nothing wrong with the use of first person in poetry
• Pictures help

Ok, I didn’t buy milk and honey because it didn’t speak to my life. But ultimately it made me think about the power of poetry and how I can better insinuate this old man’s work into the new poetry thing.