Poetry from Daily Life: Writing poems may not fill the piggy bank but still offers riches

This week’s guest on "Poetry from Daily Life" is Bob Stephens, who lives in Springfield, Missouri. This is Bob’s second column in the series. His first appeared on Jan. 14, 2024. He is a man of many talents and writing poetry is one of them. In the past two years Bob has combined his passion for poetry with his organizational skills to form The Bards of Queen City, a group of local poets, and book them to give poetry readings all over town, in April (National Poetry Month) and any other time an audience gathers. ~ David L. Harrison

When David Harrison originally asked me to write my first column for the “Poetry from Daily Life,” I spoke of Harry Bliss’ New Yorker cartoon: he draws a lady introducing her son as a poet. The folks meeting him have thought bubbles, but no words: “A poet? What do I say? I got nothing.” Another is thinking “Thank God he’s not our son,” while a third thinks, “Should I tell him Ben and Jerry’s is hiring?”

For my final column in the "Poetry from Everyday Life" series, I want to talk about a meme that’s been bouncing around Facebook for a few years: it’s a photo of that small watch pocket in a pair of Levi’s with the caption “where you put all the money you make writing poetry!”

Those of us who write poetry certainly don’t do it with any expectation of earning a living. Rather, we do it out of a love of words, a love of impact, a love of storytelling, a love of nuance, and, yes, for most of us, a love of people. We certainly do not write for the accumulation of wealth, although we do celebrate those among us who are successful, for example, Billy Collins, Natasha Trethewey and David Harrison.

However, how can anyone not catch the impact of the opening line of Edna St. Vincent Millay’s poem "The Buck in the Snow":

“Now lies he here, his wild blood scalding the snow”?

And in one of my own poems, a friend will leave the room because she doesn’t want to hear it. The poem begins with the line “We buried the kitten today.” Another of my poems honors a former eighth-grade student who was murdered before she could graduate from college.

Tragedy is not required for a poem to have an impact. A poet friend of mine recently wrote a poem about a young teen standing thigh-deep in Lake Springfield wrestling the mud in order to victoriously salvage an old, moss-covered sandal, while another poem examines what happens when a cat lover is invited to a dog show. Still, another poetry writer wonders why hamburgers in restaurants are becoming so tall.

While a sculptor may use a variety of chisels while working, a poet uses words. And these tools of the poet can make you laugh, make you cry, make you cringe, or make you smile in recognition. In my first column, I talked about the kitchen drawer: that oh-so-common spot where we dump all “that stuff.” That poem still elicits more nods and knowing smiles than any other poem I read.

So, while we may not ever be able to top off our IRAs or other savings, we will always continue to feel that those who write and read poetry — especially poets from everyday life — are forever the richer!

Bob Stephens is a former mayor of Springfield who has previously authored two books of political essays, published a poetry chapbook, co-authored a book of poetry with Lora Knight, published a memoir entitled "Accidental Odysseys," and edited three poetry anthologies by the Bards of Moon City – Springfield, Missouri.