Way back in the 1600s, when you couldn’t walk ten feet in London without hitting a poet with some serious chops, “carpe diem” poems were a popular item. The one that first springs to my mind is Andrew Marvell’s To His Coy Mistress, in which the poet entreats his lady-love not to be a tease, because we’ll all be dead soon enough, and if she dies without smooching Andrew Marvell, well, that would just be terrible. I’m not sure if it succeeded as a seduction technique, but wit and joy pervades Marvell’s poem, despite its grim implications.
So in honor of the first day of NaPoWriMo, and Marvell’s observation that “though we cannot make our sun/Stand still, yet we will make him run,” I challenge you to seize the day with a “carpe diem” poem of your very own. This could be in the sassy, seductive vein, a la Marvell, or if you aren’t feeling sassy, there’s always the option of a spooky, contemplative poem. For a good example, check out Archibald MacLeish’sYou, Andrew Marvell, which owes as much to Shelley’s Ozymandias as it does to Marvell’s poem.
Why do you ever feel you have to satisfy me?
What good am I if I can't make you laugh (or smile at least)?
I should be the one trying for you it seems.
Making a fool of myself, is what I really mean.
Telling a stupid joke, I am impressed by your grace
To not be done with me and say it's all a waste.
To not be done with me and say it's all a waste.
Fun is what we'll have, if I can but learn to relax.
I'm writing this poem for you, but to you I'm just a hack.
How droll to think I have to rhyme.
I should just stop now, but this might not be the line.
My doubts, my fears they multiply
They're always with me, I don't know why.
Abandon them on the side of the road I should
These doubts, these fears do me no good.
It seems I could be stuck with them, I'd say
So you might just have to overlook them, at least for today.
Someday my second guesses may come first
Someday my first thought won't be the worst.
But until that golden day of beautiful truth arrives,
(This day may never happen you realize)
It seems I will continue to wear the disguise
To act in control, to fake indifference
It seems I will continue to wear the disguise
To act in control, to fake indifference
To be a joker (I think I can still do this)
To fake it long enough so it starts to feel real
To abandon all doubt and learn how to heal.
If you think that I am smart, hip, or cool
It's merely a facade of my inner duel
Between fear and love that I need to win.
I lose my doubt and life begins.
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