Don't Like Poetry? These Three Collections May Change Your Mind!
Honestly, I think someone recommended Mary Oliver to me, and I read Devotions. Man, it was so good. That's how I got re-introduced to poetry after a long hiatus, and now I try to read poetry often, at least one collection several times per year. With poetry you can open the book up and read over one sitting if it pulls you in, because it's a shorter reading effort than a novel. But you can also put the slim volume by your reading chair, and every day sit down with a cup of tea and some quiet, and take in one or two poems. I like to read with handy book tabs (sticky tabs to mark a page) at hand so that I can mark the amazing bits and reread them later.
I don't like all of the poetry I read, and that's okay. I think poetry, like all art and writing, appeals to different people in different ways. But when I find a poet whose work I really get, it's like a bit of magic. I still am in awe (and a bit puzzled) as to how a poet's one line on a page can say so very much.
I've been reading a lot of Canadian poetry, and there's some fantastic work out there. I looked back and thought of the books that I've resonated with; collections that have stayed with me long after I closed the book. Here are three that I thought might be good for a self-directed course of reintroduction to poetry, if you're so inclined. They are each different, and this way you can explore what suits you. And you don't have to write an essay when you're done! You never know, you may end up like me and get a case of the poetry fever.
(I've reviewed all of these books previously, and have adapted my previous reviews for this post. I'll link to my previous reviews below too.)
If you love nature, a beautiful turn of phrase, and down to earth ideas:
Elemental by Kate Braid
Caitlin Press, 2018
Kate Braid has published several volumes of poetry, as well as non-fiction books. (I read her books Journeywoman, and Hammer and Nail, about her work as a woman carpenter in a male-dominated profession, which were also excellent...but they're not poetry.)
I read Elemental slowly, in one sitting, on a rainy Vancouver day, with darkness setting in early as late-afternoon stumbled into evening. The perfect time to settle into earthy, evocative poetry. I was enchanted by these poems that explore our connection to the natural elements. It’s divided into five sections, and I want to give you a taste of each. The poetry speaks for itself, with few words of explanation needed.
Water:
“When–if–the light finally shines,
We will rush out onto balconies
And bicycle paths,
Spreading over sidewalks like puppies,
Our eyes cast upward
To Sun.”
("Vancouver Spring")
I loved this! It is so true about Vancouverites. Isn’t it wonderful that the darkness, the rain and the cold make the eventual return of the sun more powerful?
Fire:
“...Behind her dark eyes
There are more important things she must consider–
Like the balance of the world, its emptiness,
Its lack of fire.”
("A Photograph of Her When She Was Three")
The idea of the author gazing at a photo of–maybe?--her younger self is intriguing. But I do wonder who is actually in the photo, because it is not entirely clear.
Wood:
“The next day she will tell him, ‘That wood has character.’
Yes. A novel’s worth, a whole library.
‘There will be many stories,’ the carpenter had said.”
("The Wood Hanging")
This speaks to me, as my spouse has recently reclaimed some lumber that he’s made into planks, from a neighbourhood tree that lost a thick branch in a storm last year. I like to run my fingers over the grain and look at the patterns in the wood.
Sky:
“Or is it your song that leads, gives me courage,
Tricks me, some days, into looking up. Just this.”
("Redwing, I Say")
I always love identifying the call of a red winged blackbird then trying to find it in the trees, that quick flash of bright red as it takes flight!
Earth:
“Here is where a woman nourishes herself,
Prepares for certain battle, eases herself
Into other armors, keeps the dagger of her loss
Hidden.”
("Blue")
This poem was inspired by Canadian author Anne Michaels, and I read her book The Winter Vault, so this resonated for me. I’m always amazed when my reading life syncs so beautifully.
These are just some of the passages that I want to remember from Elements. It's a great book with beautiful words and lots of emotion.
Water:
“When–if–the light finally shines,
We will rush out onto balconies
And bicycle paths,
Spreading over sidewalks like puppies,
Our eyes cast upward
To Sun.”
("Vancouver Spring")
I loved this! It is so true about Vancouverites. Isn’t it wonderful that the darkness, the rain and the cold make the eventual return of the sun more powerful?
Fire:
“...Behind her dark eyes
There are more important things she must consider–
Like the balance of the world, its emptiness,
Its lack of fire.”
("A Photograph of Her When She Was Three")
The idea of the author gazing at a photo of–maybe?--her younger self is intriguing. But I do wonder who is actually in the photo, because it is not entirely clear.
Wood:
“The next day she will tell him, ‘That wood has character.’
Yes. A novel’s worth, a whole library.
‘There will be many stories,’ the carpenter had said.”
("The Wood Hanging")
This speaks to me, as my spouse has recently reclaimed some lumber that he’s made into planks, from a neighbourhood tree that lost a thick branch in a storm last year. I like to run my fingers over the grain and look at the patterns in the wood.
Sky:
“Or is it your song that leads, gives me courage,
Tricks me, some days, into looking up. Just this.”
("Redwing, I Say")
I always love identifying the call of a red winged blackbird then trying to find it in the trees, that quick flash of bright red as it takes flight!
Earth:
“Here is where a woman nourishes herself,
Prepares for certain battle, eases herself
Into other armors, keeps the dagger of her loss
Hidden.”
("Blue")
This poem was inspired by Canadian author Anne Michaels, and I read her book The Winter Vault, so this resonated for me. I’m always amazed when my reading life syncs so beautifully.
These are just some of the passages that I want to remember from Elements. It's a great book with beautiful words and lots of emotion.
If you want completely relatable poetry, easy to read and about things that happen everyday:
People You Know, Places You've Been by Hana Shafi
Book*hug Press, 2023
Seriously, I wanted to hug this book of art and poetry tight and never let it go.
I usually finish a book and feel really great about donating it to my local Little Free Libraries so that other people can read it too, but while reading Shafi's book, I had the feeling that I didn’t want to give it up. It’s got really vibrant colours, and the art is joyful even when it's sad. And the poetry! It was amazing and I loved reading it. It’s about random people and happenings.
The cool thing is I’m pretty sure Shafi and I are very different people but it didn’t matter when I read her poems. I love her worldview, which I imagine as, “Common sense and tell it like it is, and be generally kind in the telling. For the most part.”
Sometimes I related to her view of things. I love Value Village (“may your secondhand haul exceed your dreams”). And as she writes in “good trash” I’ve never actually gone inside a dumpster, but I like free junk a little too much:
“but I’ve never actually been in one of those big containers
stupid prissy me
i’m probably missing out on some good finds
…
how pathetic that you don’t know
the simple thrill
of finding some really good trash”
Sometimes, I was on the other side of the poem. The subject. Like, I think I’d be the crotchety old lady proprietress of the antique store (“she is always sitting/somewhat irritated”), and the villainess at the farmer’s market from whom Shafi gleefully “steals” a beautiful pumpkin:
“and I saw the life leave your eyes, barbara
because I took your squash
hahahahahaha
you would’ve cooked it into a hearty fall stew
or used it to decorate your mantelpiece
above your beautiful fireplace but now
it will rot on my table
in my disgusting rented apartment”
Shafi's poems were so good that I tabbed almost the entire book.
Seriously, I wanted to hug this book of art and poetry tight and never let it go.
I usually finish a book and feel really great about donating it to my local Little Free Libraries so that other people can read it too, but while reading Shafi's book, I had the feeling that I didn’t want to give it up. It’s got really vibrant colours, and the art is joyful even when it's sad. And the poetry! It was amazing and I loved reading it. It’s about random people and happenings.
The cool thing is I’m pretty sure Shafi and I are very different people but it didn’t matter when I read her poems. I love her worldview, which I imagine as, “Common sense and tell it like it is, and be generally kind in the telling. For the most part.”
Sometimes I related to her view of things. I love Value Village (“may your secondhand haul exceed your dreams”). And as she writes in “good trash” I’ve never actually gone inside a dumpster, but I like free junk a little too much:
“but I’ve never actually been in one of those big containers
stupid prissy me
i’m probably missing out on some good finds
…
how pathetic that you don’t know
the simple thrill
of finding some really good trash”
Sometimes, I was on the other side of the poem. The subject. Like, I think I’d be the crotchety old lady proprietress of the antique store (“she is always sitting/somewhat irritated”), and the villainess at the farmer’s market from whom Shafi gleefully “steals” a beautiful pumpkin:
“and I saw the life leave your eyes, barbara
because I took your squash
hahahahahaha
you would’ve cooked it into a hearty fall stew
or used it to decorate your mantelpiece
above your beautiful fireplace but now
it will rot on my table
in my disgusting rented apartment”
Shafi's poems were so good that I tabbed almost the entire book.
If you want humour, playful language and poetry that's a little more abstract:
body works by dennis cooley
University of Calgary Press, 2023
Poems for people with aging bodies! Like me! I really enjoyed this collection.
By and large I’ve made my peace with middle age. This body that I’m in does me fairly well, though I know that could change any time. As I head to older age, I’ll have to make room in my life for more physical changes.
body works is a poetry collection from Manitoban dennis cooley. Wow, I so connected with many of his poems. I related to them myself, but also in seeing my parents’ lives as they age; they’re around the same age as cooley. These poems are about the body as it grows older, gets injured, and travels to foreign lands, all the while holding us together, often doing us well. Or, at least doing its best for us.
In “it was the height,” cooley relates a fall from a ladder on a beautiful morning: “the ladder was half way to heaven/the world veering open” Then, he falls: “how unseemly how un/ be coming falling/ down he is/ getting behind/ further & further/ in arrears, having lost/ his every dignity”
How unseemly. How unbecoming. I love those words, calling it like it is sometimes. I can see this not even as a negative, just being real about our aging bodies.
There is a lot of humour here too. Sometimes I imagined I could hear cooley’s glee as he played with sound and language. I loved “body parts.” Some guys go into the Cosmic Wreckers and load up on body parts. It was so funny and so sad. The message? We are more than a collection of body parts? We are not commodities? We are something ineffable, and our ineffable being will end. “As we leave, the gates close…/ behind us & I get this sickening/ feeling we aren’t going to pull this off–”
Cooley’s poetry uses more formal language, alliteration, and onomatopoeia (I can hear the lungs crackle and the joints pop in this poetry!) more than other collections I’ve read recently. It was poetry that made me work for it and I liked that.
Poems for people with aging bodies! Like me! I really enjoyed this collection.
By and large I’ve made my peace with middle age. This body that I’m in does me fairly well, though I know that could change any time. As I head to older age, I’ll have to make room in my life for more physical changes.
body works is a poetry collection from Manitoban dennis cooley. Wow, I so connected with many of his poems. I related to them myself, but also in seeing my parents’ lives as they age; they’re around the same age as cooley. These poems are about the body as it grows older, gets injured, and travels to foreign lands, all the while holding us together, often doing us well. Or, at least doing its best for us.
In “it was the height,” cooley relates a fall from a ladder on a beautiful morning: “the ladder was half way to heaven/the world veering open” Then, he falls: “how unseemly how un/ be coming falling/ down he is/ getting behind/ further & further/ in arrears, having lost/ his every dignity”
How unseemly. How unbecoming. I love those words, calling it like it is sometimes. I can see this not even as a negative, just being real about our aging bodies.
There is a lot of humour here too. Sometimes I imagined I could hear cooley’s glee as he played with sound and language. I loved “body parts.” Some guys go into the Cosmic Wreckers and load up on body parts. It was so funny and so sad. The message? We are more than a collection of body parts? We are not commodities? We are something ineffable, and our ineffable being will end. “As we leave, the gates close…/ behind us & I get this sickening/ feeling we aren’t going to pull this off–”
Cooley’s poetry uses more formal language, alliteration, and onomatopoeia (I can hear the lungs crackle and the joints pop in this poetry!) more than other collections I’ve read recently. It was poetry that made me work for it and I liked that.
***
If you've read one of these poetry collections, or maybe have another to suggest, leave me a comment here, or head over to my Instagram post and let me know!
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