We're trying to get through this last week of classes for the semester and then next week we take our finals. Therefore, we're going to be posting some things that don't require a lot of time. But, we wanted to make them somewhat meaningful.
We're planning on doing some blog pimps where we highlight some of our favorite blogs and we'll be sharing some videos we've come across that we really like. And, who knows, we might have a few surprises or two.
So, what's with the post title today you ask? Wild Nights - Wild Nights!
At the library here on campus they have a number of small wicker baskets placed on different desks with a sign that says, "Take a Free Poem." Then in the baskets they have a bunch of individual poems you can take. So, being the curious person I am, I reached inside one and grabbed a poem.
First of all let me say I've never been a great fan of poetry. In one of my high school classes we had a teacher who loved, loved, loved, loved poetry and saw it as her mission in life to make us all love, love, love, love poetry. We had to read all her favorite poems, memorize some, analyze them, and then, to add insult to injury, we had to actually write some poems of our own! What a way to kill any possible love you might have for poetry. At least that's what happened for me.
One of the poems I wrote was titled, Poetic Suffering. My teacher was not amused but it still got an "A." Maybe she was trying to encourage me or something. Maybe she thought if I got a lower grade it would depress me and make me hate poetry forever. All I can say is that getting an "A" on a poem about how reading poetry made me suffer did not make me want to write or read more poetry.
Anyway, enough ranting.
Here's the poem I randomly picked from the Poetry Basket. It's funny because for some strange reason I've carried it around with me and keep reading it over and over. I'm actually starting to like the poem {gasp} and I'm sort of beginning to understand it. Maybe this is how you start to like poetry. Don't force it on people. Just notice it lying there, in a basket, making no demands, waiting to be picked.
Wild Nights - Wild Nights!
Wild Nights - Wild Nights!
Were I with thee
Wild Nights should be
Our luxury!
Futile - the winds -
To a heart in port -
Done with the compass -
Done with the chart!
Rowing in Eden -
Ah, the sea!
Might I moor - Tonight -
In thee!
Emily Dickinson
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