It's National Poetry Month. Which poet would you like to meet most?

1. 82

   Patsybellposted 7 years ago

   It's National Poetry Month. Which poet would you like to meet most?
   
   Spend the day with a poet. Take a stroll, enjoy tea in the garden, Have an extravagant dinner or a picnic. The best thing is that you get to talk with this poet.

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2. 68

   Nellieannaposted 7 years ago

   I'd love to meet Emily Dickinson, who is my muse.  But she was so shy during her lifetime, it would not have been easy to meet her!    Once she knew me, though, we would have had a most enjoyable meeting, strolling in her garden, playing with her dog, perhaps  talking about life and even politics.  We might have paused for tea or refreshments, but possibly we wouldn't have taken time for that!

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   1. 82

      Patsybellposted 7 years agoin reply to this

      I enjoyed reading your thoughtful answer. Thank you.

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3. 71

   Angelladywriterposted 7 years ago

   I would love to meet Common, who is very talented with his poetic words. He is not only a rapper, songwriter, performer but an excellent poet.

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   1. 82

      Patsybellposted 7 years agoin reply to this

      You sent this old lady to the internet with your reply. I know him best for a song that Common and John Legend wrote,“Glory” for the 2014 film Selma.

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   2. 71

      Angelladywriterposted 7 years agoin reply to this

      Your research was commendable. That is exactly who I was referring to. Thanks for this intriguing question and interesting response.

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4. 79

   Seafarer Mamaposted 7 years ago

   I'd love to meet Lord Byron and Robert Burns.  Would also love to meet Edna St. Vincent Millay.

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   1. 82

      Patsybellposted 7 years agoin reply to this

      "Auld Lang Syne," by Robert Burns, may be his best known poem. But few Americans know what Auld Lang Syne means. Still, we sing it every year.

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5. 58

   CJ Bellvilleposted 6 years ago

   My choice, this late in the game for me, surprisingly is Sylvia Plath.  When I was young I could never relate to her tug, constantly into the wrenching pain she poured out on the pages, I felt when I was young it may be contagious, and I really wanted no part of it's message.  Now, in my 50's, I take comfort in her work, and the words she suffered through to write. 
   
   " And I
   Am the arrow,
   
   The dew that flies
   Suicidal, at one with the drive
   Into the red
   
   Eye, the cauldron of morning.“
   
   from the poem Ariel, October 12, 1962

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