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It’s apparently Poetry on your Blog Day, based on New York City’s Poem In Your Pocket Day. April is national poetry month, and in celebration you’re supposed to share your favorite poem.

Most are sharing deep meaningful poems, full of angst and depression. Sorry, my favorite poem is nothing of the sort.

When I was in High School, probably the 11th grade, I joined the poetry society. (I was just so damn cool. In the poetry society & on the debate team…) As part of the initiation, you had to memorize a poem & ‘perform’ (for lack of a better word) it for three teachers who would then sign your t shirt. A shirt you had to wear for a week.

I washed the damn thing every night.

Most people were wearing their white t shirts, hoping for their long sleeve black t shirt, and reciting poetry that was meaningful and profound.

I went for funny.

The crew was complete: it included a Boots--
A maker of Bonnets and Hoods--
A Barrister, brought to arrange their disputes--
And a Broker, to value their goods.

A Billiard-maker, whose skill was immense,
Might perhaps have won more than his share--
But a Banker, engaged at enormous expense,
Had the whole of their cash in his care.

There was also a Beaver, that paced on the deck,
Or would sit making lace in the bow:
And had often (the Bellman said) saved them from wreck,
Though none of the sailors knew how.

Lewis Carroll, best known for his Alice stories, is my favorite poet simply because he proved to me that poetry didn’t have to be deep and meaning and boring. His “The Hunting Of The Snark” is some of the best ‘nonsense’ poetry ever. Subtitled ‘An Agony In Eight Fits”, the poem is long but once started it’s hard to stop reading. When joining the poetry society, they decided that since I’d picked a poem that can only be described as an epic undertaking, I’d only have to remember a portion of Fit The First, but I’d often find myself in the second fit before I knew it.

Poetry doesn’t have to be highbrow. Poetry is about emotions & feelings. Humor and joy are feelings too. Lewis Carroll, Shel Silverstein, heck… even the guys who tell dirty limericks are all poets in one way or another.

If you are a dreamer, come in,

If you are a dreamer,

A wisher, a liar,

A hope-er, a pray-er,

A magic bean buyer