Leave It

April is National Poetry Month, so I can’t help myself. Yes, it’s another post about dogs that isn’t really about dogs. Welcome to my world.

Leave It 

One of the first commands in dog training:
Come. Sit. Stay. Leave it.
Don’t get off track.
Don’t investigate it or nudge it
or taste it or tinker with it.

Leave it.

Can I leave it? No, I can’t.
I must circle it, watch it,
hold it in a freezing stare,
dare it to jump.

Leave it.

I must cajole it, entertain it,
dance around it, convince it to like me.

Leave it.

I must adjust it, improve it,
make my point louder,
make sure I’m understood.

Leave it.

If I don’t leave it,
I won’t get any further than where it sits.

There is such a thing as good enough.
There has to be because we are imperfect.
There are reasons, better reasons,
to put it down.
Log out.
Take a walk.
Look up.

It’s not going anywhere, but you are.

Leave it.

You can do it. So can I.
Let’s try together.
Now.
Leave it.

Copyright © 2018 Aimee Whetstine

* * *

Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things.
Colossians 3:2 NIV

Feeling inspired? 50 Ways to Leave Your Lover by Paul Simon.

If you were to Leave it, whatever “It” is for you,
how would your life change?

Poetic Pause

April is National Poetry Month.

image credit: JMR Photography
image credit: JMR Photography

I’d hoped to throw a grand Poetry Slam Party like we did last year. As the month wanes, down to the last two days now, that window is quietly closing.

My friend Corey celebrated the month rightly, posting a different selection every day in April. These poems came as perfect, compact gifts. Sugar cubes to swirl in mint tea. Addictive, steady shots.

One poem Corey posted was written by our beloved poetry teacher at Carolina, Michael McFee. It reminded me why McFee was the teacher. Speaks to me still. And so I steal it from Corey, who stole it from McFee, so it may speak to you.

Michael McFee Directions

Read more poems by Michael McFee at The Poetry Foundation.

Pause and post your own favorite poetry selections in the comments if you wish.

photo credit: JMR_Photography via photopin cc

Reader’s Choice ’12: Poetry Slam Party

Like poetry, Corey Turner is an old friend of mine.

Corey Turner
Corey Turner

Corey’s quip about turning 40 inspired last year’s most-read post, I Like My Bike. He’s a poet the same way I’m a poet—unpaid, part-time, hobbyist. We have a thing for words.

It should come as no surprise when I asked him for his Reader’s Choice post, Corey delivered it along with the words for its introduction. And so I yield the floor to the gentleman from South Carolina.

Aimee and I shared a classroom once, a rogue’s gallery of earnest and earnestly irreverent undergraduates who each of us thought perhaps we might have something to do with Poetry. Someday, anyhow.

But in the intervening years, many of us from that classroom have fallen sadly out of touch with the stanzas that spoke so powerfully to us when we were younger.

April of this past year stood duty as National Poetry Month. And via the magic of the internet, that month rapidly became something of an opportunity to reconnect with those all manner of old familiar friends on the page. Aimee’s post here was part and parcel of that, her readers sharing poems that had leapt off the page for them.

Long ago, some. More recently, others. Regardless, it was immediately apparent if they had ever leapt once, they are still leaping, those poems.

And so sharing good poetry is still, as it always was, a dangerous game. What leapt for one reader will often strike another. Sometimes in unexpected, usually in exceptional, and almost always in provocative ways.

But then again, that’s why we read and share these sorts of things in the first place, isn’t it?

Save the date, everyone. Come April, you’re all invited to a party. Corey’s Reader’s Choice is:

 

Poetry Slam Party

 

poetry sign
click to read Poetry Slam Party

readers choice

Poetry Slam Party

Poetry is an old friend of mine. April happens to be its special month.

poetry commentary, poetry

Thank you, Corey of I Like My Bike and Beth Webb Hart of Southern Belle View, for bringing National Poetry Month to my attention. Thank you also, Geetanjali of Open a Book, for inspiring me with Rhyme Time on your blog.

In celebration, everyday epistle is hosting a Poetry Slam Party.

best remembered poems

This is not your ordinary poetry slam. You don’t have to write the poem you share or read it on an open mic in front of strangers. There are no hidden judges in the audience. We’re just here to enjoy reading and remembering the selections you choose.

All you have to do is share the title and author of a favorite poem.

If the mood strikes, tell why you like it, dazzle us with its best lines, or be my guest and share the whole enchilada.

Why?

Because Poetry is the shock of cool water on the tenth day of triple digits. Bonfire smoke and goose bumps in October. A wool coat wrapped in the silence of the first snow. A nest of newborn robins in the regal holly tree.

the poems of emily dickinson

Who couldn’t use more of that?

I’ll get us started with Emily Dickinson’s My life closed twice before its close:

My life closed twice before its close—
It yet remains to see
If Immortality unveil
A third event to me

So huge, so hopeless to conceive
As these that twice befell.
Parting is all we know of heaven,
And all we need of hell.

Let the Poetry Slam Party begin, good readers. The floor is yours.

poetry blooms

I am a rose of Sharon, a lily of the valleys.
Song of Solomon 2:1 NIV

Need help? Go to www.poets.org to find a poem.

Please share a selection with us.
Ready, set, SLAM!