The Poem I Say in the Shower

Most of the notions I had about poetry were partially spot-on. Poetry gives an avenue to be dramatic, moody, and poignant. There's a lot of poems about love and death. Snapping goes with it pretty well.

What I never considered about poetry was the skill of the poet. So much of the thrill of watching a street artist paint something on the street or watching a sand artist do something crazy on America's Got Talent is watching the artist do their thing. There's a huge disconnect, for me, between being impressed with the art itself and being absolutely blown away by the way the artist draws it out of nothingness.

I never thought about poetry that way until I heard "The Song of the Wandering Aengus" by W.B. Yeats. I distinctly remember the first song I was obsessed with. It's called "Big Brown Bass" by Randall Goodgame. I remember being a little kid and singing along with my dad and sister in the car. I'd always request it whenever we went anywhere. 

This is the first poem I've ever been similarly taken with. For the past month, it's been stuck in my head. I'll often find myself reciting it in the shower. I don't assume that it will blow you away in the same way it did for me, but I hope it will.

What was happening in his life when he wrote it? What was he thinking about? Did he think this poem was good? Was it his goal to create something so dream-like, or did it happen on accident? Am I even interpreting it in the way he would want it to be interpreted?

The more I read poetry, the more impressed I am with the ability of the poet to choose words: to have hundreds of thousands of words at their disposal, and to string together some chosen few in such a way that 119 years later, some random guy on a different continent will whisper them to himself in the shower.

- A