Poetry is for everyone
Poetry can be a daunting topic for many of us who struggled through lengthy, convoluted Shakespeare units in high school English classes. Recently, though, there has been a huge growth in poetry’s popularity, especially among young readers who engage with the genre on social media. Flagstaff’s community of writers and readers is also thriving, working towards this year’s NOAZ Book Festival and hosting various poetry readings and slams downtown. But if you just can’t get behind an art form that gives you flashbacks to tenth grade, this article is for you. Poetry really is for everyone.
My favorite thing about literature is its ability to connect us to others across time. No feeling or experience we have is ever original; people have been going through the same motions for centuries. James Baldwin, writer and civil-rights activist, said it best: “You read something which you thought only happened to you, and you discover that it happened 100 years ago to Dostoyevsky. This is a very great liberation for the suffering, struggling person, who always thinks that he is alone.” People write poems about everything under the sun, pushing through every boundary so you can read them on your phone screen. Chances are that the thing you are experiencing, be it joyful or mortifying or something in between, someone has already put it into words. Reading it may help you gain a better understanding of yourself.
Many people think poetry is limited, that it must be structured and convoluted and abide by ancient rules. However, counting syllables and meters is not the only way to understand a poem (unless that’s your jam). A lot of poetry is free verse, meaning it reads more like casual speech than a structured text with strict form. Free verse poetry gained traction in the early 20th century and many poets and readers alike favor this kind of writing. I used to think poetry was meant to be confusing, old, and masculine. We studied some classic poetry in school and I found it all to be so tedious and unrelatable. That all changed when I started reading Mary Oliver. Oliver’s poetry was different; it was simple, emotional, accessible. The words were like puzzles, but puzzles that even I could figure out with a little bit of care. There are so many different kinds of poetry that liking or disliking “poetry” as a whole feels a bit too simplistic… and that’s why I am here to help you find what you like!
Maybe you have no experience reading poetry at all, in which case I think Mary Oliver is a great place to start. Many of her poems are about nature, love, and being alive. There’s always something to take away at first glance, which hopefully invites you to look a little deeper.
The Gardener
by Mary Oliver
Have I lived enough?
Have I loved enough?
Have I considered Right Action enough, have I come to any conclusion?
Have I experienced happiness with sufficient gratitude?
Have I endured loneliness with grace?
I say this, or perhaps I’m just thinking it.
Actually, I probably think too much.
Then I step out into the garden,
where the gardener, who is said to be a simple man,
is tending his children, the roses.
Maybe you’re into writing that feels a bit more modern and relatable. Danez Smith is the author of Don’t Call Us Dead (2017), a collection of poetry that stems from Smith’s experiences as a queer Black writer. Their work is incredibly personal and emotional and calls readers to think about racial injustice on both a cultural and individual level.
Tonight, in Oakland
By Danez Smith
I did not come here to sing a blues.
Lately, I open my mouth
& out comes marigolds, yellow plums.
I came to make the sky a garden.
Give me rain or give me honey, dear lord.
The sky has given us no water this year.
I ride my bike to a boy, when I get there
what we make will not be beautiful
or love at all, but it will be deserved.
I’ve started seeking men to wet the harvest.
Come, tonight I declare we must move
instead of pray. Tonight, east of here,
two boys, one dressed in what could be blood
& one dressed in what could be blood
before the wound, meet & mean mug
& God, tonight, let them dance! Tonight,
the bullet does not exist. Tonight, the police
have turned to their God for forgiveness.
Tonight, we bury nothing, we serve a God
with no need for shovels, we serve a God
with a bad hip & a brother in prison.
Tonight, let every man be his own lord.
Let wherever two people stand be a reunion
of ancient lights. Let’s waste the moon’s marble glow
shouting our names to the stars until we are
the stars. O, precious God! O, sweet black town!
I am drunk & I thirst. When I get to the boy
who lets me practice hunger with him
I will not give him the name of your newest ghost
I will give him my body & what he does with it
is none of my business, but I will say look,
I made it a whole day, still, no rain
still, I am without exit wound
& he will say Tonight, I want to take you
how the police do, unarmed & sudden
& tonight, when we dream, we dream of dancing
in a city slowly becoming ash.
Maybe you’re super into science fiction and feel that poetry never scratches the same itch. Franny Choi has a collection titled Soft Science that turns aspects of science, biology, robots, and the like into poems about the human experience. Poetry can be about anything, even Ex Machina. Sometimes it can be fun to read poems with creative forms which often leave so much room for interpretation!
AI v.2.1
by Franny Choi
for Kyoko from the film Ex Machina
whats a mouth for what hand whats a tongue: slug machine
who chases whose mouth flaps saliva spit whose fists
pliers plowing screw drivers seeking: warm skin-like
eyes saying yes but not saying whats a mouth for
clitless soft, trigger whose weapon whose knife fish flesh
slice raw, pink split open clove, garlic no rot
who peels & peels seeking own image his own
loin, fruit seeds: circuitry spilt over whose allergy
patricide death by sex machine sex by body pillow
that moans serves dinner whats a knife for
whats machine if not language turned matter & moan
minus slug throat minus flesh-capital mouth speech : obsolete
inedible soft-less full-metal post-pleasure
nothing rot-cloth bread-born nothing crab meat no sleep
Maybe you’re the kind of person who is interested in poetry but doesn’t know where to learn more or how to get involved in a community of writers. Luckily, NAU offers many classes in creative writing and poetry! In Spring 2023, I took a poetry class with Zach Semel, who helped me better understand the writing process and provided our class with a comfortable space to workshop and learn. Even though my major isn’t creative writing, the class was incredibly impactful for me. Taking a risk and enrolling in a creative writing class could be the next step you’re looking for!
If that sounds a bit daunting, or you don’t have room in your schedule, there are still plenty of ways to get involved around Flagstaff. Attending poetry readings, such as Poet Brews or Flag Slam, gives the community opportunities to listen to their peers’ writing. If you attend a reading, you may be surprised at how many people you recognize in the audience or on stage! Flagstaff is rich with talented writers who love to share their work and help build up the work of others. Speaking from experience, the literary community in Flagstaff wants you to be a part of it.
You could also try out a poetry workshop. Jodie Hollander, published writer and poet, will be hosting the Poetry Write-Out on March 29 at 1:00 PM as a part of the 2025 Flagstaff Big Read. The location will be determined at a later date, so keep an eye out for more details.
Audre Lorde, an American writer and activist, published an essay in 1985 titled “Poetry Is Not A Luxury.” She encouraged the idea that poetry is a necessity to understand ourselves and become the most strong, unapologetic, free versions of ourselves as possible. Or, in her own, more eloquent words: “It is our dreams that point the way to freedom. They are made realizable through our poems that give us the strength and courage to see, to feel, to speak, and to dare. If what we need to dream, to move our spirits most deeply and directly toward and through promise, is a luxury, then we have given up the core — the fountain — of our power, our womanness; we have given up the future of our worlds.”