Celebrating Poem in Your Pocket 2023!

This has been a year of stress--apparently so much that my blood pressure has gone up. Never had that before. Oh, well. One things that I always try to do when things get a little crazy is to take the advice of one of my favorite Transcendentalists, Henry David Thoreau: "Simplify! Simplify! Simplify! (See also Walden.)

Under that vein, I was delighted to read Billy Collins's new collection of short poems Table Music. And that is where I discovered my #PocketPoem for this year:

"The Student"

She made asterisks

next to passages she liked,

little stars that kept shining

after she closed the book.

If you want to celebrate the small things in life, please do. Share here. Share with real people. Share everywhere. (It gets really interesting when you share with strangers in public places.) Here's how to play:

1. Find a copy of your favorite poem...or one that tickles you fancy today...or one that actually fits in your pocket. Finding in on your phone is okay, but it's always more human if you have transcribed it yourself and fold it up and put it in your pocket.

2. Carry your chosen poem around all day, and share it with people. Don't forget to share with me!

3. Soak in the awesomeness that is poetry!

4. Check my Instagram (@joeaveragewriter), Twitter (@joeavgwriter), or Facebook for the video of this year's poem!

If you want even more fun, check out the poem in your pocket label on the right-hand side of this blog. Who knows? You might find something else of worth.

Depeche Mode Got It Right

I subscribe to the poets.org "Poem of the Day" program. Usually during the week, they feature up-and-coming poets, and on the weekend, I receive something old and/or well known. This past Saturday the feature was one with which I was unfamiliar: “Deep in the Quiet Wood” by James Weldon Johnson. I don’t think I had ever read anything by this Johnson, let alone recall hearing his name. Granted, there are many poets out there and even more who play as pseudo-poets for a season. (It’s fun. You should try it. Be a Transcendentalist for a while; then switch to a Romantic for a day or six before dabbling in haiku and finishing up with a week of sonneteering.)

I digress (something else poets do). I haven’t written a poem in a while (21 October 2013) unless you count zombie haiku (20 October 2014) or simple fill-in-the-blank ditties that any seventh grader could do (16 May 2014 and 8 May 2014). And I’m supposed to teach a poetry class this summer?

See, now I have digressed again. I read this new (to me) poem, which J.W. Johnson penned back in 1917, and it struck home.

“Deep in the Quiet Wood” by James Weldon Johnson

Are you bowed down in heart?

Do you but hear the clashing discords and the din of life?

Then come away, come to the peaceful wood,

Here bathe your soul in silence. Listen! Now,

From out the palpitating solitude

Do you not catch, yet faint, elusive strains?

They are above, around, within you, everywhere.

Silently listen! Clear, and still more clear, they come.

They bubble up in rippling notes, and swell in singing tones.

Now let your soul run the whole gamut of the wondrous scale

Until, responsive to the tonic chord,

It touches the diapason of God’s grand cathedral organ,

Filling earth for you with heavenly peace

And holy harmonies.

Life for a teacher is extremely busy, especially the last week of the term due to the world of procrastination that we live in. Students are constantly expecting 24-7 service when they haven’t paid 24 minutes of attention over the course of 7 days. And because they have not planned accordingly, they create a lot of noise. The world is full of noise.  My life is full of unnecessary noise right now. Chaos and confusion lurk everywhere.

Don’t get me wrong. I enjoy a hyped-up crowd at a basketball game, a thrashing mosh pit at a concert, or a good throbbing dance party just like anybody else, but there is something to be said for silence and solitude. Depeche Mode got it right: we are meant to "Enjoy the Silence," not fear it or shy away from it.

Learning to embrace silence is a gift worth pursuing. If you have not read Chaim Potok’s The Chosen, repent and purchase it now. If you have read it, you know what I am talking about.

True inspiration or revelation comes during quiet times when we either physically or mentally turn off the stereo, unplug the phone, terminate the conversations and other distractions of the world. When you have a conversation with your conscience, the muse, the Holy Ghost, or even the voices in your head, deep contemplation, clarification, or realization or communion with God happens. Surely we all need more of these quiet times. I know I could use more inspiration and revelation.

Sure, you can accomplish a great deal with others, or __________ (insert your form of distraction here) in the background. There is nothing wrong with occasional racket or causing a hullabaloo every so often, but your most important efforts are not nearly as effective as when undertaken in solitude. Commotion is necessary and often even fun, but as L. Tom Perry said, “We must never let the noise of the world overpower and overwhelm that still small voice” that we need to speak to us.

Sorry, but as a former liar, one who once thought he did his best work in front of the TV with a CD or two playing while conversing on the phone with friends of the female persuasion, I know these things are merely interference. Isolation and quiet reflection can offer more.

I like to think that I am fairly outgoing; however, if I am truly honest with myself, the introvert wins out. I enjoy solitude.  There was a reason why Thoreau spoke to me many years ago. If I have company, I prefer one or two close friends or family members, especially my wife. Most of my work happens in silence: blog posts, poems, narratives, talks, life decisions. My Masters occurred in an abandoned apartment and a lonesome park bench, my Doctorate is happening in the library and my school during the summer. My salvation occurs in the quiet moments I create for my soul. The closest person-to-person interactions transpire when neither party speaks: holding hands with my wife, snuggling one of my children, sitting with a friend, praying to my God. “Words are {often} very unnecessary.” Good call, DM.

Silence, despite the cliché, is golden.

I have more to say on this matter, but it will have to wait. It's getting a little loud in here.