Everyone is a poet in April
or at least, it’s a month when the world starts to look back at us like a poem.
It’s tree blossom time / You all posted the same one / We share the moment
April, which is National Poetry Month, gives us room to notice, to feel, and to reflect. April says: “yes, life is a lot, and also—look how strange and whimsical and worthwhile it all is.”
Maybe it’s the National Poetry Month posters, still clinging to library walls from years past. It could be the teachers and librarians and arts organizations doing the good, slow work of making poetry feel like it belongs to everyone. Or it’s possibly the poets themselves sneaking their way into our classrooms, our work laptops, and our minds.
A poetic life isn’t necessarily about writing poems (though if you’re drawn to that, what a gift!). It’s about recognizing the shape of something unspoken. It’s about how you look at your afternoon routine. How you hold a memory. How you make meaning out of a mess.
Perhaps this month gives you the language you didn’t know you needed. Maybe it’s a time to look around, and recognize the world looking back.
You don’t have to write anything down.
But if you do, I like to remember that poetry need not be precious. Often, poetry is about simply paying attention and deciding to keep the evidence. It’s basic and obvious; or subtle and tender. It can be chaotic and feral, and is often cheesier than a quesarito or as cloying as a marshmallow Peep.
It can live in texts and social media posts, grocery lists and Post-It notes. Poetry is also visual—in street art that makes us stumble in the sidewalk, the photos we message to a friend, and in picture book spreads that make our grownup hearts skip a beat. Poetry is in the way we tell stories, in the questions we ask our kids and the bizarre answers they volley back, in the playlists we make for road trips, and in the way we smile at ourselves in the mirror first thing in the morning.
Poetry isn’t just in the words we write. It’s in the way we see. And I love how April opens the door a bit wider, inviting all of us to slow down, pay attention, feel our hearts drumming in our chests, and see that the world is holding so much for us.
Poetry twinset
Lately, I’ve been returning to two poems that feel like they’re in conversation with one another: “One Wild and Precious Life Comin’ Right Up” by Lyndsay Rush & “The Last Thing” by Ada Limón. Both poems insist that there’s still beauty here, and that noticing it is worthwhile—if not necessary.
Ways to lean into your inner poet
I can’t resist giving an assignment, but feel free to think of this as optional homework. You don’t have to write a poem during National Poetry Month, but if you feel the pull, here are some low-stakes ways to follow that invisible string. Extra credit if you tape a sticky note poem to a public bathroom mirror or post a love letter disguised as a book review.
Keep a Poetry of Noticing log—one moment a day that caught your attention, even if it was just how good your coffee smelled or how blue the sky was.
Rewrite a text message as a sonnet.
Open your camera roll. Find a photo and describe what can’t be seen in it.
Choose a household object and write its secret backstory (also a great picture book writing prompt!).
Speak in haiku. Try / Until coworkers cry “stop” / “You are killing us.”
Write a caption for a photo you’ll never post. One that only you will read, but that says something staggeringly honest.
Leave a mysterious note in a library book.
Write an obituary for an enemy. Be unkind and ungenerous, for a single paragraph. Probably don’t share it.
Ask someone you love “what’s a line of poetry that’s lived in your brain for too long?” Or, “what’s a movie quote that feels like it explains your whole life?”
Glimmers to share
✨ I’ve been dabbling with the concept of relaxation via unproductive downtime, and initial reviews for this are positive!
I’m absolutely loving these TV shows, all of which are dropped week by week, like The White Lotus (I’m still thinking about season 3 while gearing up for a series re-watch).
These shows are structured for savoring and pondering. Truly a gift for the ruminative souls among us.
The Studio (Apple TV)
Your Friends and Neighbors (Apple TV)
Hacks (HBO)
Everybody’s Live with John Mulaney (Netflix)
Scripted like a dream / The hearts are bruised but beating / Weekly, on purpose
✨The new podcast Good Hang with Amy Poehler. I wish Amy Poehler could narrate my inner monologue; she’s so wise, warm, and hilarious, and her interviews are thoughtful and very fun.
Amy speaks, I pause / This is what knowing sounds like / A laugh, then a truth
✨Who wants to start a journaling club with me? Cup of Jo, a favorite blog, wrote about this recently. I love how Jo Goddard approaches this novel way of forming community—and truly everything she writes about—with curiosity, warmth, and an abundance of joy.
These journals need us / Like, emotionally. Now / Let’s make them feel seen
✨This weekend, I made lemon bars—the perfect springy dessert—with this incredible recipe from Smitten Kitchen.
Plath would eat this bar / Then write about its sweet ache / Sunlight with a pang