My taste in poetry is pretty much like my taste in books, songs and superhero movies. I enjoy moving little moments and emotional punches.
When I was a teen (and slightly obsessed with The Cure), I read a poem excerpt on the inside flap of the album “wish” from Percy Bysshe Shelley’s “To a Skylark” that pretty much sums up what I’m talking about:
We look before and after,
And pine for what is not:
Our sincerest laughter
With some pain is fraught;
Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.
But there’s one I’ve never seen anywhere else again, other than the first time I read it in some Scholastic type publication during AP English senior year. I’m really glad I was a rebel and didn’t think twice about ripping it out of my magazine.
The top of the page reads “Knowledge,” so I’m guessing that’s the title. It was written by Heather Dionne, a senior from City Honors School in Buffalo, NY. The page is dated January 1997.
I love you like rain or tapioca
But you’re wearing your face clumsily today.
I know your voice on the telephone.
I can hear it when you smile.
And I know what’s in your pockets
Hope and coins and spearmint gum
And I know what you dream,
But only because you tell me.
I know the exact color of your eyes
I know where you got that sweater
Your cat’s name and how many stripes she has
I know how you eat apples and how your writing looks
What you can cook and how fast you can run
I know what you think about the music I listen to
That you think I’m too skinny
That you like the color of my hair.
I know a million ways that you laugh
And I know your taste in sneakers and people.
But not where you keep your thoughts
Or if you cry.
It was cloudy when we arrived;
It was raining when I left.
I have no idea if this person still writes or what ever became of her, but on the random chance she’ll one day stumble across my blog – great poem! I still love it, 16 years later.