Poetry Meme
I try to avoid posting memes, if possible, but ratmmjess noted that it's National Poetry Month, so I figured that I'd follow his lead and try to post a few poems this month that I've found particularly beautiful, inspirational, or otherwise nifty. (I'll also point to, as an aside, a seemingly controversial essay by Charles Bernstein, wherein he rails against National Poetry Month. To that end, I'll endeavor to point to examples of poetry that are not "easy" or "uplifting," strictly speaking.)
In any case, while working with poet, author, and critic Greg Beatty on a (presently somewhat stalled) series of articles which detail the Rhysling award-winners, one piece in particular spoke to me and has since become, arguably, my favorite piece of verse. It is still under copyright, though it is, for now, freely available at Strange Horizons, with the blessing of the author's wife. Moreover, like nearly all the Rhysling winners, it has been recently reprinted in The Alchemy of Stars, edited by Roger Dutcher and Mike Allen. (Or, if you wish to support the Science Fiction Poetry Association more materially, you can order directly from them.) I highly recommend this book, for the record; there is some beautiful verse there which really deserves to be more widely read.
In deference to the editors of The Alchemy of Stars and in deference to Mrs. Eng, I'll be removing the poem from this post in the not-distant future, but for now, I'll duplicate it below, for your ease and enjoyment.
Storybooks and Treasure Maps
by Steve Eng
The kings and their crusaders are forgotten,
No one reads about them any more,
The flowers that the princess held are rotten,
Crushed beneath her slipper on the floor.
The chivalry of knights-in-armour's ended,
Fading like a fable into time,
The castle and the walls are undefended,
Empty like an ancient nursery rhyme.
But you and I must fight, and not surrender
All the dreams of yesterday we knew;
The grown-ups better listen and remember
Storybooks and treasure maps are true.
The demons and the dragons are all sleeping,
The giant's resting quiet in his bed,
The witches and the wizards now are keeping
Company with dreams that all are dead.
You and I must stand against tomorrow,
Fighting off the fear of growing old,
Dreams aren't something you can steal or borrow,
You don't beg them back once they've been sold.
But you and I must fight, and not surrender
All the dreams of yesterday we knew;
The grown-ups better listen and remember
Storybooks and treasure maps are true.
© 1978 Steve Eng
In any case, while working with poet, author, and critic Greg Beatty on a (presently somewhat stalled) series of articles which detail the Rhysling award-winners, one piece in particular spoke to me and has since become, arguably, my favorite piece of verse. It is still under copyright, though it is, for now, freely available at Strange Horizons, with the blessing of the author's wife. Moreover, like nearly all the Rhysling winners, it has been recently reprinted in The Alchemy of Stars, edited by Roger Dutcher and Mike Allen. (Or, if you wish to support the Science Fiction Poetry Association more materially, you can order directly from them.) I highly recommend this book, for the record; there is some beautiful verse there which really deserves to be more widely read.
In deference to the editors of The Alchemy of Stars and in deference to Mrs. Eng, I'll be removing the poem from this post in the not-distant future, but for now, I'll duplicate it below, for your ease and enjoyment.
Storybooks and Treasure Maps
by Steve Eng
The kings and their crusaders are forgotten,
No one reads about them any more,
The flowers that the princess held are rotten,
Crushed beneath her slipper on the floor.
The chivalry of knights-in-armour's ended,
Fading like a fable into time,
The castle and the walls are undefended,
Empty like an ancient nursery rhyme.
But you and I must fight, and not surrender
All the dreams of yesterday we knew;
The grown-ups better listen and remember
Storybooks and treasure maps are true.
The demons and the dragons are all sleeping,
The giant's resting quiet in his bed,
The witches and the wizards now are keeping
Company with dreams that all are dead.
You and I must stand against tomorrow,
Fighting off the fear of growing old,
Dreams aren't something you can steal or borrow,
You don't beg them back once they've been sold.
But you and I must fight, and not surrender
All the dreams of yesterday we knew;
The grown-ups better listen and remember
Storybooks and treasure maps are true.
© 1978 Steve Eng