Welcome to the Sad Poets Society
A poetry club where we talk honestly about emotion
Hello friends,
Welcome to the inaugural meeting of the Sad Poets Society.
*bangs gavel*
There. We're official.
Now, you might be asking: What is the Sad Poets Society? How did I end up here? Why couldn't Yardena create a name that doesn't rip off an 80s teen movie?
These are all valid questions. Let's start with the first. The Sad Poets Society is an offshoot of Letters on Being. While Letters on Being will always be free, the Sad Poets Society is only open to paying subscribers. I know, it's a bummer. But we've all got to eat, right? This first installment is available to the public to get a taste of our little poetry club. After this, though, we will be very exclusive. And by "very exclusive," I mean we'll let in anyone for $5/month.
As for how you ended up here, I can't say for sure. Many of you are already Letters on Being subscribers. But some of you will arrive here lost, lonely, and even, dare I say, sad. That's great. We love saddies here at the Sad Poet Society. Life is sad sometimes. Life is also about overcoming sadness and turning it into beauty. It's about succumbing to sadness, letting it crash over you, and floating in its vastness. Life is about more than sadness, of course, but this emotion is an entryway to the more challenging stuff—grief, despair, rage, etc. Sadness is also a mirror by which we measure our joy and hope. That's a wordy way of saying that I want to look at all emotions, but Emotion Poets Society doesn't have the same ring. Too many syllables. We can't have that.
Anyway, poetry allows us to investigate emotions in a way that doesn't feel as frightening as confronting them outright. Similes, metaphors, and hyperbole help us wrap our minds around whatever our brain is working through. I hope this little poetry club will be like a group therapy session. It might get uncomfortable at times. There will probably be tears (at least from me, as I'm a prolific crier). After the pain and the discomfort, though, will come laughter. I want the comment section to be a giant group hug, where we can share anything without fear of judgment. I want to hear tons of different voices, ideas, and opinions. I hope to build empathy and understanding through communication.
That being said, here's how it'll work. Once a month, I'll share a poem (or maybe a few poems on a theme). I'll give you a prompt, which I will also answer. Ideally, you'll share your thoughts on the poem and the prompt in the comments, but you can also use this as a personal exercise if you don't feel comfortable sharing yet. Write in your journal or record a song or paint your feelings. Do whatever you want. The Sad Poets Society is a place for expression. It will grow and change as we do, but it will always be our place.
As for the third question, the one about ripping off that one movie, I don't have a good answer. I just liked the name. It flows off the tongue with the correct amount of syllables. It's dark but cheeky. Also, once it popped into my head, I couldn't think of anything else. So here we are. Now onto the poetry!
The first poem I want to examine is “Into Each Life Some Rain Must Fall” by Margaret Fishback. Fishback’s poetry was mainly light verse, and I think her wry humor offers the perfect way to kick things off. Here we go.
Sometimes I wish that I were dead As dead can be, but then again At times when I've been nicely fed On caviar or guinea hen And I am wearing something new And reassuring, I decide It might be better to eschew My tendency to cyanide.
My biggest takeaway from this poem is that our emotions are constantly in flux. That burning rage inside you might be a bit of hanger, easily cured by a good meal. Or maybe a new outfit gives you the confidence of a male peacock. Strut your stuff.
I also like the idea that darker emotions are not inherently awful. I, too, sometimes wish that I were dead. But I know that feeling is no more indicative of my whole being than the euphoria I feel after seeing an incredible live musician. Sometimes I’m on top of the world. Other times I’m in the pit of despair. Each day is a new set of circumstances. Every experience offers a lesson.
Finally, this poem is proof that a good rhyme can bring levity to any situation. Guinea hen? Hilarious. Cyanide? A riot. Anything can be humorous if presented properly, even death.
Prompt:
Write a poem (it can be short) about something you feel is taboo or difficult to discuss. The only requirement is that it has to rhyme. Slant rhymes are allowed, and the meter can be anything you like.
This concludes the inaugural meeting of the Sad Poets Society. Leave your thoughts on Margaret Fishback’s poem in the comments. Also, share your poems! They’re allowed to be silly. Embrace the silliness.
If you haven’t already, please subscribe. Your support opens the club doors, but it also supports me as a person. Hopefully, I’m supporting you as well.
What a great idea. I'm in!
As for my poem, here goes:
Dead of winter,
Dead of night,
Dead Poet's Society,
The movie you slight.
Send me poems,
I'll read them all,
In the comments section,
I'll answer your call!