Poetry and Kids

My favorite book of poetry is Dien Cai Dau by Yusef Komunyakaa.  It’s a book of poetry about the Vietnam War experience.  I also enjoy the religious poetry of John Donne, the nature poetry Walt Whitman, and and pretty much anything by William Butler Yeats.  That being said, my favorite poem is “You Are My I Love You,” a simple love poem from a mama to her baby.

When I was younger, I would walk around my house with a purple binder.  I still remember what it smelled like.  In it, I would house my own poetry, a collection of “masterpieces” with ever insightful comments about the beauty of music and the originality of a rose.

I remember that I used to search for my muse.  I would ride my bike up and down my street, waiting for inspiration to come.  I was ten and as such, inspiration never took more than one or two jaunts down the street.  I would run inside, recording the voice of poetry in my head.  I was sure I was going to be famous one day.

I never became famous for my poetry.  I love to write.  It makes me feel alive.  And yet I don’t write poetry or even fiction.  At this stage, it just isn’t in me.

But even though those years as a budding poet went nowhere, I still think they were important.  And sadly, I think it’s something that many people miss out on.

I’ve mentioned on here before that I spent my pre-mom years teaching English to college kids who really didn’t like English.  I’ve heard impassioned pleas about the ridiculousness of poetry from people who are not all too inclined towards impassioned pleas.  But you don’t have to go to a college classroom in order to find people who hate poetry — they are all around us.  Perhaps you are one of them.

I’ve heard it all — it’s boring.  It’s out of touch.  It’s inaccessible.  It’s wordy.  It’s not wordy enough.  And sadly, I think this is all because that is all people hear about poetry.  They are scared.  They go into classrooms and hear teachers discuss poems simply in mechanical terms.  They are forced to learn meter and rhyme without ever taking the moment to breathe in the wonder of the language or relish in the beauty of the sentiment.

And that’s why I want to introduce my children to poetry every chance I get.  So that they can begin to enjoy it and love it before they are taught that they aren’t supposed to like it.

I went into the girls’ bookshelves this morning and dug out my old copy of Jack Prelutsky’s, The New Kid on the Block.  I credit this book with starting my love affair of poetry almost thirty years ago.  For those of you who aren’t familiar with it, it is a collection of humorous poems for children with titles like, “Homework, Oh Homework,” “Alligators Are Unfriendly,” and “Be Glad Your Nose Is On Your Face.”

As I flipped through the pages with Magoo, I was excited to see that I still had my old bookmarks in there from when I was a child, marking my favorite poems.  And I was equally excited to see that I still remembered some of them, the cadence of some coming back to me like a favorite song.

But I was most excited to see that Magoo was enjoying them as much as I was.  She laughed all throughout “My Dog, He Is An Ugly Dog,” delighting in the numerous descriptions of this poor dog’s appearance, mannerisms, and of course, smell.  When we finished reading a few, she told me that I had to remember to read some more tomorrow.

And I pray that this is where it starts.  That she starts her own love affair with the English language.  She already loves to read and be read to, but there’s something that poetry can teach children that fiction just can’t.  It can teach them that the joy of the written word isn’t just in the story, but also in the way it is told.  It can instill in them the flow and rhythm and timing of our language so that it becomes natural to them and it one day flows out of them in their own writing.  It teaches them that laughs and joy can come from a book just as easily as it can come from a television screen or a video game.  And it teaches them to seek out pleasure for the ears and substance for the brain.

There are other books of poetry that I prefer to read to Mae, who just likes the sound of language at this point.  And there are the baby love books of poetry that I love to read to all three.  But this type of poetry is what I am most excited for because this is where they are going to learn to trust their own ears and their own ability to read and understand what is presented to them.

Do you have any favorite books of poetry for children?  Have you introduced your child to poetry?  Do you see your own views about poetry reflected back to you from your children?

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