Today we had to write a poem incorporating something about the poets and poetry that has inspired us to write poetry.
I have too many of those to mention so decided to stick with this poem about the Billy Collins live poetry readings I have been watching lately.
Find them on his Facebook or Instagram page.
Still Life with Billy Collins
My new morning routine -
coffee and poetry
with Billy Collins
via Facebook live,
because Billy Collins is a poet
who will always make you smile.
I watch him on my phone,
propped up horizontally
against the fruit bowl,
little moons of oranges alight
from the sunlight streaming in -
a kind of modern still life
as his words waft
from his wood-panelled home study,
framed fish in the background
with their open-mouthed perpetual
astonishment somewhat warranted
for his laconic, drifting drawl,
as he tells us ways of leaving our home
reading from his suitably titled collection
'Sailing Alone Around the Room', talks about
Wordsworth, Pepys, the poet in solitude;
his 'delinquent' trip to the post office;
how to keep track of the days
by breaking a salad bowl maybe;
and how he'd like to imagine
a person in an Easter bonnet
walking down Fifth Avenue
at the weekend, oblivious
to the news, wondering
where the hell the Easter Parade is.
He reminds me how poetry
gives to all the curios of our lives
free reign.
And even in the middle
of a pandemic a reminder
that there are still things
to smile about, laugh about, get curious
about
and that
it's still life, after all.
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