Today's Holidays: Poet's Day, Senior Citizen Day, National Spumoni Day
Website of the Day: https://www.benjerry.com/flavors/recipes/spumoni-ice-cream-cake
Fact of the Day: Spumoni, unlike ice cream, is always sliced, not scooped. Â
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I remember the first time I read Green Eggs and Ham by Dr. Suess I had a few thoughts going through my head:
Where can I buy green eggs and ham?
Why does Sam I Am keep forcing him to try the green eggs and ham? He doesn’t want to eat it!
The words all sounds really nice together.
While I never found my answer to the first question, I learned that Sam I Am forces him to try the green eggs and ham because the book is all about trying new things. However, my third thought is what I’m going to focus on today, because there’s a one word answer for why the words in Green Eggs and Ham sound really nice together: poetry! Dr. Suess manipulates words to rhyme, flow, and ultimately convey a message through a story of metaphors, symbolism, personification, and rhythm. And let’s be honest, where would be in life if we hadn’t read about the fox in socks or the one fish, two fish, red fish, blue fish? Oh, the places we (wouldn’t have) gone!
Today, on Poet's Day, we celebrate all of the poets who have had a significant impact on the literary community: Edgar Allan Poe, Emily Dickinson, Robert Frost, Maya Angelou, as well as those poets who have yet to make their mark, and those who just enjoy to express their thoughts and feelings through poetry. A beautiful form of art, poetry adds both complexity and clarity to the world as we uncover its many layers to reveal the rich truth. While poet’s construct their words with intention, we, as readers, are free to interpret the poem, which makes poetry a unique craft in which the artist expresses him or herself and the viewers, in turn, express themselves through their perception.
Last year, in early September, I attended a Creative Writing Club meeting at my school. The prompt of of the day was to write about something that frustrates or angers us. This was only a mere four days after cross country preseason ended: a long, hot week of running and sleeping over in the dorm with my team (I went to a boarding and day private school). I had only our movie nights in the evening to look forward to, in which I made popcorn and forced my friends to watch Garfield every night, because I consider it to be the best movie ever to hit the screen (Garfield is so my spirit animal). Anyways, one night as I put my popcorn in the microwave, something happened that ruined the rest of my popcorn and Garfield evenings, but I’ll let my poem tell the story:
Popcorn DesireÂ
By: Mia Salas
After a long day of running,
It was finally the hour,
To sit and watch Garfield,
After a quick shower.
And what better way,
She thought,
Then to watch Garfield,
With some popcorn that she bought.
Up the stairs she went,
And when she came back down,
She tossed the popcorn in the microwave,
And waited in her nightgown.
Inside the heat picked up,
And there was a light,
She wondered if anyone would ask to share,
Hopefully there wouldn’t be a fight.
The sound rumbled,
Then turned into a roar,
And the plate did not spin,
But she decided to just wait a little more.
Naïve,
She waited,
And waited,
And waited.
The roar turned into thunder,
And there was no pop,
But partly for selfish reasons,
She still didn’t stop.
All I want is my popcorn,
She thought,
All I want is my popcorn,
The popcorn that I bought.
Just 3 more seconds,
She said,
Just 5 more seconds,
She said.
A flame, a flame!
Somebody cried,
And she stopped the microwave,
As if her popcorn had died.
The microwave broke,
And there was a small fire,
All because,
Of her popcorn desire.
And even though,
She caused the flame,
She just decided,
To ignore the blame.
Because all she could think,
Is how buttery and great,
The popcorn would taste,
And then the feeling turned into hate.
Hate at the microwave,
Hate at her life,
Because she was stuck at preseason,
And there was no popcorn in her life.
The prompt at the Creative Writing Club that day didn’t say that our frustrations had to be written in poetry. But for some reason, perhaps because although I was still mad about not being able to eat popcorn for the rest of preseason, I couldn’t help but laugh at my desperate attempt to eat popcorn (so desperate I let the microwave light on fire), I embraced my inner poet. I like to think that my poem is proof that anyone can be a poet (even with a topic as silly as mine and a basic rhythmic structure)  with a little creativity, passion, and time.
I challenge you to write a poem: any topic, any length, any style. Take a few minutes to write your emotions out in a poem, and not only will you feel more like yourself, relieved, and confident, but you can then add your name to the list of people to celebrate today! What will your poem be about? Leave your comments below.
Happy Poet's Day! #NationalHolidayMovement #BeHappy