It’s our birthday this month. The Poetics Project was started by myself and Melanie Figueroa and launched the 1st of April to celebrate National Poetry Month. Because this blog started out as a community of writer’s sharing poetry in a Facebook group, we thought we’d share some of our favorite poetry with you to celebrate both our blog’s birthday and National Poetry Month.
Amanda’s Favorite Poems
“O Do Not Love Too Long”
By W.B. Yeats
Sweetheart, do not love too long:
I loved long and long,
And grew to be out of fashion
Like an old song.
All through the years of our youth
Neither could have known
Their own thought from the other’s,
We were so much at one.
But O, in a minute she changed—
O do not love too long,
Or you will grow out of fashion
Like an old song.
“Nobody Knows this little Rose”
By Emily Dickinson
Nobody knows this little Rose—
It might a pilgrim be
Did I not take it from the ways
And lift it up to thee.
Only a Bee will miss it—
Only a Butterfly,
Hastening from far journey—
On its breast to lie—
Only a Bird will wonder—
Only a Breeze will sigh—
Ah Little Rose — how easy
For such as thee to die!
“Mr. Darcy Piñata”
By Mark Grist
The reception was without incident
Until, bobbing through the doorway
Came a piñata the shape of Mr. Darcy.
He drifted across to the canapés
Where, dipping occasionally, he melted
The hearts of several young women
Who thought ‘that is not just a Mr. Darcy piñata.
For me he will be different; he will change.
And so they left their clotted boyfriends
For this rugged, frowning effigy.
Laughed coyly over cocktails, suggesting
Weekend breaks, theatre trips and lingerie.
The piñata gave nothing back in dashing fashion.
His narcissism unable to compete with the fact
That he was only a piñata after all.
Unwilling to accept the state of things,
The girls began to scratch at his casing, stealing strips
Of him. Desperate to create a wound that would
Tie the piñata to them after they had gone.
Force him to phone them at 3am for no reason
Other than to recover something of himself.
This was never going to happen. In the end
The piñata sank under their blows.
Shiny wrapped sweets skittered across the floor
Etched deep with words like ‘bastard’ and ‘user’.
The young women snatched these; went back to their tables
Sucking them for years till their sweetness grew bitter.