Three Good Poetry Anthologies

My home has been filled with verse of late. It started when I contracted a strange condition requiring me to read a poem each morning in order to summon the energy to crawl from bed. This affliction was not born of desire but necessity: only poetry could open the morning for me. This new routine soon extended itself downstairs into the common living area. "Here's a poem," I'd greet my housemates for breakfast, "listen up."

What collections could possibly inspire such imposing behavior? Ah, my favorite poetry anthologies of all time…

Good Poems, collected by Garrison Keillor wins first prize. These poems are arranging into nineteen sections, beginning with "O, Holy," passing through "Music" and "Yellow," and ending with "Resurrection." These pages contain poetry appropriate for every moment (e.g. dragging oneself from bed), from Mary Oliver to William Stafford to Galway Kinnell.

A Book of Luminous Things: An International Anthology of Poetry edited by Czeslaw Milosz is another favorite -- many of our customers will attest to its brilliance. See more about it below (I mentioned it several blog posts ago).

Another collection has edged itself within my periphery. I acquired
Beloved: Poems of Grief and Gratitude intending to pass it on to a friend. It remains, however, unrelinquished on my nightstand where it has built a semi-permanent nest of feathers and stones. I fear attempting to dislodge it at this point would prove futile, considering its obvious desire to stay. Despite its gentle appearance, this collection possesses a surprising well of power. Don't be fooled by its mossy plumage and soft murmurs: these poems are the soul of resilience and perseverance. Read them to yourself, read them to the world, read them from the top of a tree, read them anywhere, but do read them.

P.S. On a final note...
My poetry dependence has not been confined to my home; it has followed me to work, as well. Last week a customer, when trying to remember a book title, somehow jolted my mind to Vermont poet David Budbill. I was so excited about Budbill that the customer left without ordering the book he'd originally wanted, and instead went to the library to see if my enthusiasm for Budbill was contagious or not. It was, and he came in a week later to loan me a collection he had since acquired in his newfound delight. Rereading Budbill, years after first discovering him, I find he as just as spectacularly breathtaking as he ever was.