poetry book club: poets i read because i wanted to

by Jessica Fox-Wilson

Like most of us, I came to poetry through school. While I am certainly indebted to many of the great teachers I had in high school and college, sometimes I didn’t like reading poetry in school. Between required textbooks in the school year and recommended reading lists in the summer, it was all too much. Plus, the poetry seemed it should be boring, with all the allusions and rhyming stuff. Even with that, I knew I liked poetry. I liked feeling the rhythm of the words, seeing the images in my head. And I thought sure that better poetry was to be had out there.

Once I was free to explore poetry on my own, I found lots of great writing. It still had the same effect on me that “school poetry” had, but now it seemed illicit. I was almost afraid someone could find me reading it and discover that I liked this strange stuff, riddled with allusions and rhymes, but also bigger than the sum of its parts.

Listed below are the four poets I read, once I had the freedom to choose my own poetry:

Shel Silverstein
Now, I know every school child in my generation read Shel Silverstein. I mean, he wrote about garbage and magical trees and defying your parents. What else could a kid want? As I snuck my huge anthology off the bookshelf when I was supposed to be sleeping, I felt as though I was committing a crime. Click here to hear Shel Silverstein read “Ickle Me, Pickle Me, Tickle Me, Too.”

Sylvia Plath
Jump forward eight years and suddenly poems about flying in giant shoe aren’t as appealing. Go figure. I think for certain young women, reading Sylvia Plath is a prerequisite for surviving high school, especially if you like to wear lots of black and fancy yourself a poetess. The nice thing about Plath’s poetry is that it holds up over time. When you’re 15 and rebellious, you can revel in her cussing out her father. Then, years later, you can marvel at her technical dexterity and the precision of her language.

Gwendolyn Brooks
During my sophomore year of college, Gwendolyn Brooks visited my campus for a reading. While I had never read any of her books before, I ran to my library and picked up them up. Within the cadence of Brooks’ short lines, came a freedom and a love of language I’d never felt before. I’d also never read poetry that was simply so real; her poems showcased characters that had real-life problems. When I finally heard her read, it was the first time I ever heard a master poet read. She was confident, musical and funny, and I knew I would never again see a poet of her caliber in person.

Ai
Ai’s book Greed was one of the first books I picked up because I read a glowing review. I can’t remember the review anymore or the periodical I read it in, but this review made me run to the bookstore and buy her book. I was shocked at many of her poems. Out of all the poetry I had read in my life, Ai’s seemed the most dangerous. Not only did she write about violence, sex and drugs, but she wrote in the voice of characters who were immersed in those worlds. I had not given much stock to the power of persona poetry before this book, but now I glimpsed how potent that form could become, in the right hands.

While writing this list, I was thinking of all the poets I didn’t include. When you have the freedom to choose your own poetry, you discover a wealth of poets who inspire you, or scare you, or who open up whole new avenues of thought for you. I’d love to hear from you: What poets (or poems) did you reach for when you were free to choose your own reading?