What's the Occasion?
I found on this site https://writersrelief.com/2016/04/06/11-poetry-forms-youve-never-heard/ a list of more little-known types of poems. I think many of us have heard about these (especially the ekphrastic one... hi, Dr. E) and one that stood out to me was the "occasional" poem. Basically, an occasional poem is one about a certain point in time, whether it be a specific date or a general month, season, day of the week, etc. One example, as listed on the site, is "The Birds Begun at Four o' Clock" by Emily Dickinson.
The Birds begun at Four o'clock —
Their period for Dawn —
A Music numerous as space —
But neighboring as Noon —
I could not count their Force —
Their Voices did expend
As Brook by Brook bestows itself
To multiply the Pond.
Their Witnesses were not —
Except occasional man —
In homely industry arrayed —
To overtake the Morn —
Nor was it for applause —
That I could ascertain —
But independent Ecstasy
Of Deity and Men —
By Six, the Flood had done —
No Tumult there had been
Of Dressing, or Departure —
And yet the Band was gone —
The Sun engrossed the East —
The Day controlled the World —
The Miracle that introduced
Forgotten, as fulfilled.
Another example I found in a collection of poems, called "Inauguration Day, 2017" by Demetria Martinez.
A Mexican nun once
told me: to refry beans
add a touch of milk
if you don't have lard.
Remember that, friends,
write it down, write down
all such tips from foremothers
who lived through such times,
who knew to add extra
onion for flavor, still more
onion to stretch the meal.
We have so many to feed
and ourselves to nourish,
gathering strength to pull
the curtain behind which
the conqueror cowers.
Hot tortillas, splendid table.
We hold hands, say
the blessing: pass
the pepper, pass
the salt.
The Birds begun at Four o'clock —
Their period for Dawn —
A Music numerous as space —
But neighboring as Noon —
I could not count their Force —
Their Voices did expend
As Brook by Brook bestows itself
To multiply the Pond.
Their Witnesses were not —
Except occasional man —
In homely industry arrayed —
To overtake the Morn —
Nor was it for applause —
That I could ascertain —
But independent Ecstasy
Of Deity and Men —
By Six, the Flood had done —
No Tumult there had been
Of Dressing, or Departure —
And yet the Band was gone —
The Sun engrossed the East —
The Day controlled the World —
The Miracle that introduced
Forgotten, as fulfilled.
Another example I found in a collection of poems, called "Inauguration Day, 2017" by Demetria Martinez.
A Mexican nun once
told me: to refry beans
add a touch of milk
if you don't have lard.
Remember that, friends,
write it down, write down
all such tips from foremothers
who lived through such times,
who knew to add extra
onion for flavor, still more
onion to stretch the meal.
We have so many to feed
and ourselves to nourish,
gathering strength to pull
the curtain behind which
the conqueror cowers.
Hot tortillas, splendid table.
We hold hands, say
the blessing: pass
the pepper, pass
the salt.
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