April is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
— T. S. Eliot, “The Waste Land”

T.S. Eliot besmirched the name of April in his poem “The Waste Land,” but April did not besmirch poetry back; in fact, April has been National Poetry Month since 1996 until now. That’s more than twenty years. (Take that, Eliot.)

Of course, most people, in all likelihood, do not find any particular meaning in a month devoted to poetry. Outside of knowing how many syllables there are in a haiku and memories of Robert Frost’s “The Road Not Taken” in middle school English classes, how many people have willingly continued to consort with poetry in their everyday life? I’ve heard so many people say they just don’t get poetry, or it’s not for them. I profess to that the people who say that: you just haven’t met the right poem. Like music or literature, there is something out there for everyone.

As a poetry aficionado and occasional poet myself, I write this article in honor of National Poetry Month. I challenge you, reader, to give at least one of the poets on this list a chance. All are contemporary (within the last few decades or so), and each has a unique way of expressing their meaning through verse, whether it be personal, political, philosophical, or anything in between.

1. Derek Walcott

Derek Walcott holds a special place on this list for two reasons. One is in memory of his recent passing, and two is because I was introduced to his writing here at University of the Pacific. Painter, poet, and playwright, he is a prolific creator, portraying reflections of classic mythology, religion, and post-colonial life as a child from the West Indies. He flawlessly weaves vivid visual language with references to various iconography, peppering his work with motifs of flora and fauna from his unique island culture. Check out his epic called "Omeros" (presumably after Homer, author of the "Odyssey")– especially “Origins.”

To learn more about Walcott and his history and writing, check out this interview from The Paris Review.

Quotable Poems:

I who am poisoned with the blood of both,
Where shall I turn, divided to the vein?
I who have cursed
The drunken officer of British rule, how choose
Between this Africa and the English tongue I love?
Betray them both, or give back what they give?
How can I face such slaughter and be cool?
How can I turn from Africa and live?

— Derek Walcott, “A Far Cry From Africa” (2007)

This brings nobody peace. The ancient war
between obsession and responsibility
will never finish and has been the same

for the sea-wanderer or the one on shore
now wriggling on his sandals to walk home,
since Troy sighed its last flame,

and the blind giant's boulder heaved the trough
from whose groundswell the great hexameters come
to the conclusions of exhausted surf.

The classics can console. But not enough.

— Derek Walcott, “Sea Grapes” (1992)

This has the strong
clench of the madman, this is
gripping the ledge of unreason, before
plunging howling into the abyss.

Hold hard then, heart. This way at least you live.

— Derek Walcott, “The Fist” (1986)

2. Chen Chen

Ever since I first read him, Chen Chen has been one of my favorite poets. His writing is evocative, yet relatable– his style is refreshingly conversational, tongue-in-cheek and easy to access while remaining honest and original. As a queer Asian-American poet, Chen Chen jokes about being told “All you write about is being gay or Chinese.” His response (as he describes in “Poem in Noisy Mouthfuls”) is:

Wish I had thought to say to him, All you write about is being white

or an asshole. Wish I had said, No, I already write about everything—
& everything is gay, Chinese, American, is longing, teeth, song,
struggle, hair, sadness, myth, carrying, leaving, love,

popcorn, smoke, movies, friends, bad habits, questions.

— Chen Chen, “Poem in Noisy Mouthfuls” (2015)

Chen Chen has an active online presence, and you can find his work in multiple online lit mags in addition to his own chapbooks. I recommend checking out his website http://chenchenwrites.com/ or following his Instagram, @chenchenwrites.

Quotable Poems:

I thirst for the starlight
that opens elephant skin.
I thirst for the raven

conjugated into riven
by summer storm.
My job is to trick adults

into knowing they have
hearts. My heart whose
irregular plural form is

Hermes. My Hermes
whose mouths are wings
& thieves, begging

the moon for a flood
of wolves, the reddest
honey.

— Chen Chen, “Spell to Find Family” (2014)

God sent an angel. One of his least qualified, though. Fluent only in
Lemme get back to you. The angel sounded like me, early twenties,
unpaid interning. Proficient in fetching coffee, sending super
vague emails. It got so bad God personally had to speak to me.
This was annoying because I’m not a religious person. I thought
I’d made this clear to God by reading Harry Potter & not attending
church except for gay weddings. God did not listen to me. God is
not a good listener. I said Stop it please, I’ll give you wedding cake,
money, candy, marijuana. Go talk to married people, politicians,
children, reality TV stars. I’ll even set up a booth for you,
then everyone who wants to talk to you can do so
without the stuffy house of worship, the stuffier middlemen,
& the football blimps that accidentally intercept prayers
on their way to heaven. I’ll keep the booth decorations simple
but attractive: stickers of angels & cats, because I’m not religious
but didn’t people worship cats? Thing is, God couldn’t take a hint.

— Chen Chen, “I’m not a religious person but” (2015)

The day the window grew till it no longer fit the house
was the night I decided to leave.
I carried in my snake mouth a boxful
of carnal autobiographies.
I went in search of a face without theory.

— Chen Chen, “How I Became Sagacious” (2015)

3. Richard Siken

Richard Siken is a queer poet who pens lines of verse that read like addiction. He transposes slivers of scenes with intimate desire and brings lyricism to the imagery of his poems. In addition to his poetry, Siken is a publisher, painter, and filmmaker. He has composed many award-winning scenes of love and chaos alike— check out especially his book "Crush." His new book is also featured on his website (http://www.richardsiken.com/), with some poems available to read online.

Quotable Poems:

Chemical names, bird names, names of fire
and flight and snow, baby names, paint names,
delicate names like bones in the body,
Rumplestiltskin names that are always changing,
names that no one’s ever able to figure out.
Names of spells and names of hexes, names
cursed quietly under the breath, or called out
loudly to fill the yard, calling you inside again,
calling you home.

— Richard Siken, “Saying Your Names” (2008)

We have not touched the stars,
nor are we forgiven, which brings us back
to the hero’s shoulders and the gentleness that comes,
not from the absence of violence, but despite
the abundance of it. The lawn drowned, the sky on fire,
the gold light falling backward through the glass
of every room. I’ll give you my heart to make a place
for it to happen, evidence of a love that transcends hunger.
Is that too much to expect? That I would name the stars
for you?

— Richard Siken, “Snow and Dirty Rain” (2008)

I looked at all the trees and didn’t know what to do.

A box made out of leaves.
What else was in the woods? A heart, closing. Nevertheless.

Everyone needs a place. It shouldn’t be inside of someone else.

—Richard Siken, “Detail of the Woods” (2011)

4. Margaret Atwood

Chances are you already know the name Margaret Atwood. She’s a well-known Canadian feminist writer, author of such works as "The Handmaid's Tale," which is being made into a feature film, and "Alias Grace," a fascinatingly multifaceted novel (which you may have the chance to read if you take Professor Norton’s course in Feminist Theory). In addition to her fiction works and outspoken articles, however, Atwood is also an accomplished poet. Check out some of my personal favorites, “Quattrocento,” “The Saints,” and “The poet has come back,” in addition to those below. Info on her novels, continuing work, and publicity updates are all available on her website: http://margaretatwood.ca/

Quotable Poems:

Instead of this, I tell
what I hope will pass as truth.
A blunt thing, not lovely.
The truth is seldom welcome,
especially at dinner,
though I am good at what I do.
My trade is courage and atrocities.
I look at them and do not condemn.
I write things down the way they happened,
as near as can be remembered.
I don’t ask why, because it is mostly the same.
Wars happen because the ones who start them
think they can win.

— Margaret Atwood, “The Loneliness of the Military Historian” (1995)

In restaurants we argue
over which of us will pay for your funeral

though the real question is
whether or not I will make you immortal.

At the moment only I
can do it and so

I raise the magic fork
over the plate of beef fried rice

and plunge it into your heart.

— Margaret Atwood, “They eat out” (1974)

Crush out the mystery.
Wall me up alive
in my own body.
They'd like to see through me,
but nothing is more opaque
than absolute transparency.
Look--my feet don't hit the marble!
Like breath or a balloon, I'm rising,
I hover six inches in the air
in my blazing swan-egg of light.
You think I'm not a goddess?
Try me.
This is a torch song.
Touch me and you'll burn.

— Margaret Atwood, “Helen Of Troy Does Countertop Dancing” (1995)

5. Patrick Rosal

Poet and teacher Patrick Rosal is a master of metaphor. His writing takes the art of analogy to the next level, and simultaneously manages to maintain both beauty/lyricism of composition, and tone uncluttered by overly dense language. Consider, for instance, his exceptional and frank poem “Dangerous Poems” (quoted below), which is both simple in verse and lofty in idea, metaphorically portraying contemporary tragedy in the form of personified poems. As creativity goes, Rosal has undeniable talent. You can learn more about his work at his website: http://www.patrickrosal.com/.

Quotable Poems:

If only the gentle stirring of gray water If only to dip my hands wrist deep in it
If only another history written without the color of your skin
If only skin and no more
If only to lie down in a room of vaulted dark sealed so tight you become the dream inside the skull of some ancient being or one not yet born among rows of cane and guns laid down for good

— Patrick Rosal, “Aubade: The Monday Bargain” (2010)

Once there was a girl, who threw five bricks into the sea. The bricks came up birds. They flew near God's head. They skimmed his right ear. Each brick-turned-bird whispered its own name, and to each bird God said, Rain then.

And wasn't it God who walked out to the shallows and snatched back the five birds' names? He sent each bird in the five principal directions of a compass.

The birds had nothing left to say.

— Patrick Rosal, “Fable of the Short Song” (2014)

Can the poem imagine itself
as a man? Are there many poems
with no bodies? You see,
a poem did it. Last night,
a poem pulled out
its gun and shot
a man who had twenty
dollars in his pocket
and a space between
his top two front teeth.
The official investigation
has produced
no witnesses. After
a poem clocks in
it better not be caught
singing. When poems
in question have been asked
at last by mothers: What
happened What have you done
the poems are known
to answer: I’m a poem.
Mistakes happen. I was just
doing my job.

— Patrick Rosal, “Dangerous Poems” (2015)

6. Jason Koo

Jason Koo is another talented young Asian-American writer with an accessible voice, often writing scenes in domestic and relatable settings like his home, the streets of his city, or bars. A distinction between his poetry and others, however, is the beautifully worded stream-of-consciousness facet present in many of his poems, which complements his wry and sardonic inner monologue. Like Chen Chen, he has a knack for pointing out hypocrisies in how much of White America views him, an Asian-American male, particularly in a sexual context— though his writing spans much broader content than just that topic. Check out his personal website at http://www.jasonykoo.com/.

Quotable Poems:

I find the word “particularly”
Particularly hard to say, but Anna has no such problems;
Everyday she goes to work putting people into yoga poses, making them say “particularly”
With their bodies. In yoga, you learn to release yourself
By resisting yourself. What a beautiful idea.
Even more beautiful is how one almost always feels this actually to be happening while doing it,
Unlike poetry, which is governed by a similar idea
Yet rarely provides this feeling while one is doing it.

— Jason Koo, “Work” (2011)

Just popped the collar of my robe in this motherfucker,
I.e. kitchen, as I make some sweet-ass hash browns.
Is that the start of a poem? It’s barely the start of breakfast.
Noon light comes streaming through the window.
Is that the start of a poem? My landlady—what a word—
Just told me to be out of here by July 1. At first I wrote
Just told me to be out of her. Slightly different poem.
The millionaires buying her brownstone, milling past me
As I cranked this up in my robe at this motherfucker,
I.e. dining table, wondering if it could indeed be a poem,
Demand it. I’m gonna squat right here in this kitchen,
I.e. motherfucker, with my million-dollar syntax and hash browns
And make those motherfuckers mill around me for life.

— Jason Koo, “Morning, Motherfucker” (2015)

Perhaps
They’re confused by me, waiting
For my corpse to stop heaving forward
Just when they thought it still
For good. But here I am again, writhing
From bed, inexplicably a consciousness
Concocted, nothing to eat in these ongoing
Rooms—just me and my possessions.

— Jason Koo, “Corpse Pose” (2015)

7. Evie Shockley

Evie Shockley is a self-identified "Southern poet," representing both the Southern voice and her own personal experiences as a African-American woman. While she makes use of both traditional form and free verse, Shockley is consistently experimental. She shuns rules of capitalization and formal mechanics. Far from making her work unreadable, though, the result is poetry that flows rhythmically as thought or monologue. Shockley’s strong voice makes her critically aware poetry all the more evocative and powerful.

Quotable Poems:

something is always burning, passion,
pride, envy, desire, the internal organs
going chokingly up in smoke, as some-
thing outside the body exerts a pull
that drags us like a match across sand-
paper. something is always burning,
london, paris, detroit, l.a., the neighbor-

hoods no one outside seems to see until
they’re backlit by flames, when the out-
siders, peering through dense, acrid,
black-&-orange-rimmed fumes, mis-
take their dark reflections for savages
altogether alien.

— Evie Shockley, “playing with fire” (2011)

i hear it jingling in the pockets of the innocent heirs of fundamentally well-meaning transatlantic traders and new world farmers. i see a wad of it stuffed in the jeans of the celebrities whose tracks, films, and reality shows are beloved by fans all across the nation and wherever american culture is exported. i feel it varnishing the walls of my classrooms and my home like a thick coat of paint. they paved the street with it last week. it is transporting, transcendent, the fastest way up and out. many brands of condoms use it as a lubricant, for her pleasure. it works to slide things through congress, too.

— Evie Shockley, “it: a user’s guide” (2013)

we
descended then, thirsting, churning, not into
the waters that hound the mozambican
mother, baying her and her baby in
the tree, but into that enduring ocean
in which—as mother, daughter, or both—a
woman’s only choices are drink or swim.

— Evie Shockley, “lifeline” (2006)

8. Cherríe Moraga

Cherríe Moraga is a writer of many media: essays, poems, plays, et cetera. Her work is particularly important as the voice of intersectionality; she studies and reflects upon “the ways in which gender, sexuality and race intersect in the lives of women of color.” Even though her work has sparked some controversy, she is still a significant writer in terms of queer and Chicana representation. Her writing is straightforward and accessible, both emotive and frank in turn.

Visit her website at http://cherriemoraga.com/ for more.

Quotable Poems:

If fear is wishing there were some disease to call it
saying, I AM GOING CRAZY always for lack
of a better word always because we have no words
to say we need
attention, early on.

If fear is this, these things
then I am neither alone, nor crazy
but a child, for fear of doom, driven
to look into the darkest
part
of the eye

— Cherríe Moraga, “Fear, A Love Poem” (2000)

I am a welder.
Not an alchemist.
I am interested in the blend
of common elements to make
a common thing.

No magic here.
Only the heat of my desire to fuse
what I already know
exists. Is possible.

— Cherríe Moraga, “The Welder” (2014)

Standing by the riverbank,
a soul-hungry girl,
skinny and a million miles of loss
away from her own native navajo urges me:
“Dive for a stone. Take it back with you.”
So, I do, stumbling across the shallow waters like an old woman,
my bruising knees reddening in the glacier-iced water.
I surface, like the Winnemem girls around me,
in this rite, rock in hand,
my small token.
It is the green of wet sea. I am breathless.

— Cherríe Moraga, “Balas Chonas” (2012)

9. You

No, seriously. You can write poetry. In my opinion, everyone should write poetry at least once in their lives. Not necessarily for publishing or even for a love letter (although that’s a great reason), but just to express oneself in a form beyond the restrictions of proper speech and presentation. Poetry is great therapy, and writing out your thoughts or reminiscences, feelings or questions, can be both inspirational and cathartic.

Don’t know where to start? Take a poetry class on campus. (Hint: there’s a great one here at University of the Pacific.) Look online for poetry prompts. Go to a thrift store and pick up a copy of something by Whitman and use one of his lines as inspiration. Visit the City Lights Bookstore in San Francisco and take home a pocket-sized version of Ginsberg’s "Howl," or let the employees direct you to whatever the month’s latest hits may be. They even have a little alcove full of one or two-dollar chapbooks. Your local arts community may have events. There’s countless poets who self-publish online these days; just take a simple search on Tumblr. And next time you’re feeling overwhelmed, or blissful, or anxious, or confused, take pen to paper or fingers to keyboard. Attend an open mic and perform or watch some contemporary slam poetry– or stay home and find some on YouTube. (There’s tons.)

Poetry is not an exclusive art. It’s not only for some people. It’s not purely intellectual, and it’s not a talent safeguarded by a holy few. It’s a form of self-expression. Read a little, write a little; it’s National Poetry Month.

Surprise yourself.