Today is WORLD POETRY DAY declared by in 1999, "with the aim of supporting linguistic diversity through poetic expression and increasing the opportunity for endangered languages to be heard".
Its purpose is to promote the reading, writing, publishing and teaching of poetry throughout the world and, as the original UNESCO declaration says, to "give fresh recognition and impetus to national, regional and international poetry movements".
It was generally celebrated in October, but in the latter part of the 20th century the world community celebrated it on the 15th, the birthday of Virgil, the Roman epic poet and poet laureate under Augustus.
The observance of World Poetry Day is also meant to encourage a return to the oral tradition of poetry recitals, to promote the teaching of poetry, to restore a dialogue between poetry and the other arts such as theater, dance, music and painting, and to support small publishers and create an attractive image of poetry in the media, so that the art of poetry will no longer be considered an outdated form of art, but one which enables society as a whole to regain and assert its identity.
As former Director-General of UNESCO Irina Bokova has said, “Poetry is one of the purest expressions of linguistic freedom. It is a component of the identity of peoples and it embodies the creative energy of culture, for it can be continuously renewed.”
Here are two poems by one of our interns, Emily Libecki, who works with our resident poet, Mother Dilecta.
(And kodos to my cousin, John Dofflemeyer- AKA Cowboy poet- of Drycrikjournal- check out his poignant verse as he struggles to raise cattle in Central California high country in spite of drought).
i am alive
when the wind rushes
across my skin
like wildfire in a forest
it lacerates leaving
burning traces
and i smile
because the pain
is lightening in my soul
igniting darkness
from ashen embers
who hold their breathe in anticipation.
i smell the smoke of candlelight
i smell the smoke of candlelight
and the shadows of the day
they taste like spindled embers
and withered wax astray.
even in the dark i sense
the place where light display
its echoes and its imprints
always falling far away
though i walk in whispered black
and the silver of the grey
i find myself pulled to the wick
and Eternal Summer's Way.