A Different Kind of Finished Project

A Three on Thursday Poem in Your Pocket Mash Up

What I like about Poem in Your Pocket day is that it encourages people to just . . . share a poem.  


Although I won't actually be carrying a poem around in my pocket today - or standing on a street corner (or in the locker room at the gym) reciting poetry from memory, I will be looking for opportunities to share poetry today.   Here are three easy things you can do to celebrate Poem in Your Pocket day:

  1. Add a short poem to your email footer.
  2. Post lines from your favorite poem on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, Tumblr, or Pinterest.
  3. Send a favorite poem to a friend.


Here's the poem in my pocket today . . . 


Mind Body Problem
by Katha Pollitt

When I think of my youth I feel sorry not for myself
but for my body.  It was so direct
and simple, so rational in its desires,
wanting to be touched the way an otter
loves water, the way a giraffe
wants to amble the edge of the forest, nuzzling
the tender leaves at the tips of the trees.  It seems
unfair, somehow, that my body had to suffer
because I, by which I mean my mind, was saddled
with certain unfortunate high-minded romantic notions
that made me tyrannize and patronize it
like a cruel medieval baron, or an ambitious
English-professor husband ashamed of his wife --
her love of sad movies, her budget casseroles
and regional vowels.  Perhaps
my body would have liked to make some of our dates,
to come home at four in the morning and answer my scowl
with "None of your business!"  Perhaps
it would have liked more presents:  silks, mascaras.
If we had had a more democratic arrangement
we might have come, despite our different backgrounds,
to a grudging respect for each other, like Tony Curtis
and Sidney Poitier handcuffed together
instead of the current curious shift of power
in which I feel I am being reluctantly
dragged along by my body as though by some
swift and powerful dog.  How eagerly
it plunges ahead, not stopping for anything,
as though it knows exactly where we are going.


To learn more about poet and essayist Katha Pollitt, and to sample some of her work, click here.


Be sure to check out other Three on Thursday posts over at Carole's today.



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Oh my! That is wonderful! You have shared such amazing poems this month, thank you! XOXO


I LOVE this poem and the pictures Katha Pollitt can paint with words. I can see the English professor's wife clearly, and I feel the "current curious shift of power". Thank you so much for sharing and introducing me to so many new and wonderful poems and poets this month!




I love this! Maybe I have a chance if I start with Mary Oliver! xo

Jeannie Gray

I'm afraid my love of poetry runs more towards limericks than actual poems. I blame my mother. Her favorite 'poem' that she quoted often was:

Little Willy, mean as hell
pushed his sister down the well.
Mother exclaimed while drawing water,
My! It's hard to raise a daughter.

She had quite a few favorited Little Willy poems but that was the one she quoted to me almost daily. I'm sure it had nothing to do with her frustration over trying to turn me into a decent member of society. :)


Thanks for reminding me that poetry is valuable and accessible.


Another winner, Kym! Thank you for sharing your love and knowledge of poetry so graciously this month. I have a few new-to-me favorites as a result ... and I love that my poetry shelf is growing and becoming more diverse!


Katha is new to me...so I look forward to getting to know her, better, much better; merci for the introduction. I am also really enjoying getting reacquainted with poetry - mostly in part because you've piqued our interest and attention (focus) this month. THANKS!


Oh my. I am so late in reading blogs today. Loved the poem—thank you!


I was here. I read your post and thought I commented. I wrote a post of my own (maybe instead?) and this morning I see your post and I can't even remember if I commented, or what my half written comment would have said. Anyway, your poetic choices always spark something in me. My heart just breaks for the writer of this poem. How much sorry and pain is in her. Thank you introducing me to yet another wonderful poet.

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