Day 23: Poetry Daily

Celebrating National Poetry Month by highlighting 30 days of literary publishers who produce poetry you can listen to, watch, or read, in 5 minutes or less.

April showers and all that. The raging storms of this moment in our human history. A turn in the trail. Unexpected rainbow. That intake of breath before you remember you haven’t felt joy nor optimism in a very long time.

My fellow Americans…
My dear sweet humans hoping and praying, dreaming and waiting for the after-hard times while working harder than these times feel…
Today’s recommendation, Poetry Daily, is for you. This online anthology offers what poetry can do best. A whisper in your ear. An answer to, “Who do I share breath with on this planet today?”

From Poetry Daily “About” page:

MISSION:
Our purpose is to provide readers with a window on a very broad range of poetry offered annually by publishers large and small—to make it easier for people to find poets and poetry they like—and to help publishers bring news of their books, magazines, and journals to more people.

Well over 1,000 books of poetry are published in the United States alone each year, but they can be difficult to find, even in areas brimming with bookstores. The numerous journals presenting new poetry and poets can be even more elusive. We will lead you to them and, in the meantime, we give you a new poem to carry with you through your day and share with others.

Poetry Daily offers a new poem every single day, a daily e-mail newsletter, plus a section titled, “What Sparks Poetry” which features poets telling the stories behind the writing of a specific poem, followed by a writing prompt.

With this Poetry Month series, I promised, “poetry you can listen to, watch, or read, in 5 minutes or less,” but you could spend hours exploring the literary labyrinth that is Poetry Daily.

The poem I chose for you, my fellow Americans, my family defined by national boundaries over the kin of humanity, is “Bedtime Story for a Father” by Alejandro Lucero.

Here are the first two stanzas:

On a shelf between photos of his family sits a row of dusty candles
a father never lights. The electricity’s out. In the hot summer night, bugs
find their way in the dark. In a scramble for matches, the father creeps
around the couch where his daughter’s sleeping. He’s thinking of the flour tortillas
he rolled all morning, and his little girl, who dreams of snow and ice,
and he thinks, too, about bugs coming through the windows, the pipes,

those gaps in the slats that he can’t control. Under the kitchen sink, a maze of pipes
and a small fire extinguisher block the emergency candles.
Sweating through his shirt, the father, praying to soak his feet in ice,
praying the food in the fridge won’t spoil and the smell won’t attract more bugs
eats like a dog in the dark. A shred of tortilla
falls from his mouth into his slipper. The thought of waste keeps creeping,

“FROM BEDTIME STORY FOR A FATHER” by Alejandro Lucero.

Please read the entire “Bedtime Story for a Father” by Alejandro Lucero on Poetry Daily.

May you think today of individual humans behind the news, behind the labels of policy or politics or us vs. them, or the flag flying above the patch of ground where our fellow humans want nothing more than the exact same thing you and I want.

A peaceful night’s rest.

Food for ourselves and our children.

A candle in the dark.