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To celebrate #WorldPoetryDay, we asked the Big Monocle team to share some of their favorite poems. Here’s what they said.
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Lisa Brown, Art Director
I‘m choosing “Early Bird” by Shel Silverstein. It’s my favorite.
Oh, if you’re a bird, be an early bird
And catch the worm for your breakfast plate.
If you’re a bird, be an early early bird —
But if you’re a worm, sleep late.”
Garrett Sherwood, Sr. Project Manager
Is video OK? If so I choose “For Those Who Can Still Ride In Airplanes” by Anis Mojgani.
Powers Wartman, Web Developer
“Lament for the Rohirrim” by JRR Tolkein:
Where now the horse and the rider? Where is the horn that was blowing?
Where is the helm and the hauberk, and the bright hair flowing?
Where is the hand on the harpstring, and the red fire glowing?
Where is the spring and the harvest and the tall corn growing?
They have passed like rain on the mountain, like a wind in the meadow;
The days have gone down in the West behind the hills into shadow.
Who shall gather the smoke of the dead wood burning,
Or behold the flowing years from the Sea returning?
Bonus video:
Jeff White, Sr. Content Strategist
One of my all time favorites is “On Waterproofing” by Anne Carson. The poem is small, simple, and understated. The punch hiding beneath the surface, though, hits you like a ton of bricks.
Amy Stellhorn, CEO/Founder
I’m usually the most fond of things that are made by people I know. So I choose this poem by Garrett. “If I didn’t have holes in all my pockets,” by Garrett Sherwood.
Andrew Jensen, Lead of Engineering
This is one of several poems I’ve written. “Rain,” by Andrew Jensen.
Rain drums
Desperately on leaking panes,
Claws at cracked caulking,
Seeking union with the unhappy girl
Who sits, brooding
Over the images she pens,
Sketching memories and
Pitiless futures
Preserved in a poem.
She sways to the melody of the rain,
The rise and fall of its anguish
Which commiserates her passion
And sentences her to the prison
Of which she alone is warden.
Rain drowns
Autumn’s melancholy fire,
Stifles breath, heat, hunger,
Seeking union with the unhappy girl
Who sits, brooding
Over rain, over Autumn.
She brazenly rubs out
The pitiless futures,
Reserves them for lighter days, and
Decrying the melody of the rain,
Declares to its anguish,
The music is not over.
She throws wide the door
And welcomes the storm.
Carly Ekins, Jr. Designer
I mostly write limericks… but I will submit a favorite! Mine is also a Shel Silverstein.
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