In Praise of Poets

Sirens, first one, then another, and, wait for it, a third. It is 6AM on a Sunday morning. All I want is a little more sleep. Now I am really awake. Well, not completely awake, I am just not a morning person. Like many of my peers, I must function to some extent in the early hours, but I am usually more comfortable later in the day. As I sit up in bed I can see the sun is rising. That's a good sign, but something feels a bit off. Maybe I had a strange dream...I don't remember. There has been some drama. Perhaps this is the residue. In my thoughts, out of my thoughts. Thought turns to coffee. Soon, I am holding a cup in my hand, wandering to the computer. It's quiet. My neighbors are not stomping and yelling at one another yet, a delightful reprieve from the sound of apartment living.

I check my email, reading my horoscope for the day first. There is an email saying I've been tagged by a poet. You may have visions of an early morning cybergame of hide and seek. Maybe, during the night, poets wander neighborhoods placing tags on people, much as you would band a bird. No, nothing like that. A tag is way of sharing information, in this case, a poem. I love being tagged first thing in the morning. This means the second thing I read is a poem. That is a wonderful way to begin a new day.

Let me explain, I am not a poet. I have written poems. In fact, I still write haiku a few times a week, exchanging words with a cyber-friend in Hawaii. We've done this for a few years now. Haiku suits my temperament and short attention span in the morning. Any more than seventeen syllables would be a total overload for me that early in the day. I enjoy reading poetry and listening to readings, live or recorded.

I fell into Facebook reluctantly last summer. Coincidentally, I fell in with the poets because of one book of poetry. I had been waiting for this book for a while. After hearing the poetry being read aloud, I was intrigued. I heard this book would be published soon, so I kept checking and found it in September. I read it through cover to cover. I carried it to work. I took it to Oaxaca, but I'm getting ahead of myself. After I received the book, it occurred to me the author might be on Facebook. He was, so I contacted him and we became 'friends'. Fortunately for me, he generously shared his poetry with me and other 'friends' by tagging us. As time went on, I was friended by other poets, to my delight. The many voices have their own unique way of singing out to us. For a few minutes early in the morning, during the day or late at night I am transported away from the personal drama that is daily life and taken to another place. It may be some one's home town, it may be a dark Gothic dream or maybe a waltz of words. I have had the pleasure of meeting a very wise dog and have been taken for a ride on a roller coaster of words.

If you asked me last year if I would be on Facebook I would have laughed. I'm told I have a suspicious nature. Paranoid may be the word. Not so, just careful. If you asked me if I would be reading poems every day I may have wistfully answered, no. Maybe haiku once in a while.

Isn't life grand?

picture~painted 1985ish ;)