Oh, and the length. Once poems stretch beyond a couple of dozen lines I drift off and lose concentration. Somehow, when reading a novel I have great focus and introspection, but in poems I much prefer something that doesn't need dissecting. Something with wit. These are the kind of poems I write:
Haiku for the Errant Turn Signal
Ever blinking light
Falsely suggesting intent
everything is beautiful
Expectations, unreasonable, unseasonable
Balking, pouting, sore.
Excursions, endurable, interminable
Waiting, sitting, bored.
So, would it make sense to say that I love the poetry of language, but don't love the language of poetry?
I feel like I'm reading poetry all the time, yet I don't know that I have a favorite. They just don't stick in my head like full-length works. I did love this one, though, by Willa Cather (in her only published collection of poetry) titled L'ENVOI
Where are the loves that we had loved before
When once we are alone, and shut the door?
No matter whose the arms that held me fast,
The arms of Darkness hold me at the last.
No matter down what primrose path I tend,
I kiss the lips of Silence in the end.
No matter on what heart I found delight,
I come again unto the breast of Night.
No matter when or how love did befall,
'Tis Loneliness that loves me best of all,
And in the end she claims me, and I know
That she will stay, though all the rest may go.
No matter whose the eyes that I would keep
Near in the dark, 'tis in the eyes of Sleep
That I must look and look forever more,
When once I am alone, and shut the door.
But see how it's all depressing? Where are the witty poets? Not funny, slapstick, silly, har-har stuff...I want something clever, like Bite Size Jane Austen. That's what I want. Any suggestions for me?
(Thanks to The Blue Bookcase for supplying great topics for literary conversation!)