The Russian poet Anna Akhmatova (1889-1966) is a figure beloved by readers all over the world. She began writing in the years before World War I, and though her work was banned between 1925 and 1940, and again after World War II, she remained loyal to her art and to the cause of other oppressed Russian writers. As Elaine Feinstein writes in the preface to her new biography, ANNA OF ALL THE RUSSIAS:

All the momentous events of the twentieth century touched Akhmatova's life directly and she became the voice of a whole people's suffering under Stalin. She needed exceptional courage in the quarter of a century when she was not allowed to publish, especially in the years when her son and her third husband were held in the Gulag. An iconic figure for all those whom the Soviet regime repressed, she sustained that heroic role through illness, poverty and a lifelong conflict between womanly affections and the demands of her art.

What follows here is a brief passage about the making of one poem after the first summer of war against Germany, in 1914. Akhmatova's first husband, the poet Nikolay Gumilyov, was away at the front and had written to her of his exhilaration in being there.

Poem of the Day: An excerpt from ANNA OF ALL THE RUSSIAS
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Today is Good Friday, and we mark the occasion with a long poem from Pulitzer Prize winner Franz Wright's new collection GOD'S SILENCE. On the lighter side, our accompanying episode of the Knopf Poetry Podcast features Wright reading "Publication Date."

Poem of the Day: "Arkansas Good Friday"
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Podcast: Listen to a recording of Franz Wright reading "Publication Date"
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In an essay called "On Reading Poetry," the late Kenneth Koch wrote:

Suppose you want to get an experience into words so that it is permanently there, as it would be in a painting—so that every time you read what you wrote, you reexperienced it. Suppose you want to say something so that it is right and beautiful—even though you may not understand exactly why. Or suppose words excite you—the way stone excites a sculptor—and inspire you to use them in a new way. And that for these or other reasons you like writing because of the way it makes you think or because of what it helps you to understand. These are some of the reasons poets write poetry.

Today's episode of the Knopf Poetry Podcast features Mark Strand reading Kenneth Koch's poem "Permanently," and you can click for the text.

Poem of the Day: "Permanently"
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Podcast: Listen to a recording of Mark Strand reading "Permanently"
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Tonight marks the beginning of Passover, the Jewish festival commemorating the exodus of the Israelites from Egypt. Although customs vary, it is a time for Jewish families to be together at the Seder table, to feast and give thanks for freedom. Today's poem from Marge Piercy's collection COLORS PASSING THROUGH US celebrates this holiday experience.

Poem of the Day: "Seder with comet"
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Podcast: Listen to a recording of Marge Piercy reading "The Good Old Days at Home Sweet Home"
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The poet James Merrill (1926-1995) and his longtime partner, David Jackson, began conversing with angelic spirits and dear departed friends via a Ouija board in the mid-1950s and continued the adventure over the next several decades. THE CHANGING LIGHT AT SANDOVER (1980), Merill's remarkable 560 page epic poem, tells the story of these events. It is perhaps the most significant running account of a domestic partnership in American poetry, encompassing the daily life of JM and DJ as well as their enriching shadow life at the Ouija Board. Their discussions with their spiritual teachers cover subjects such as the "density" of human souls and how they can be recycled, the dangers of Man's having usurped the atomic powers of "God Biology," and the way that artistic genius is significantly shaped by the genius of the departed.

Throughout the volume, as Merrill tells the story of the earthly pair's gradual enlightenment, he uses lower-case type for passages spoken by himself and DJ, and upper-case letters for the messages spelled out on the board by their companions beyond. In the following excerpt (taken from the section entitled "Mirabell's Books of Number"), the upper-case speaker is a guiding spirit from the dark side, a peacock figure the men have named Mirabell. He refers somewhat cryptically here to a visit from "one of the white"—a reference to the archangel Michael, who is soon to grace the Ouija board with his presence. JM answers, as is customary, in lower case.

NB: as words are spelled out on the Ouija board, there are many abbreviations the reader becomes familiar with, not unlike our own email shorthand. Thus "WD" for "would," "U" for "you," "B4" for "before"—conventions that become part of the poem's unique and fetching culture. The "fair field" Mirabell speaks of may be interpreted as the Ouija board itself.

Poem of the Day: An excerpt from THE CHANGING LIGHT AT SANDOVER
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Podcast: Listen to a recording of James Merrill reading "The Broken Home" from Random House Audio's Voice of the Poet series
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That Mark Haddon's first book after THE CURIOUS INCIDENT OF THE DOG IN THE NIGHT-TIME is a book of poetry may surprise his many fans; that it is an an impressive and imaginative collection will not. THE TALKING HORSE AND THE SAD GIRL AND THE VILLAGE UNDER THE SEA will be in stores tomorrow, but you can read one poem from the book below. And be sure to tune into today's episode of the Knopf Poetry Podcast to hear Haddon read by phone from his home London.

Poem of the Day: "Trees"
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Podcast: Listen to a recording of Mark Haddon reading "The River-Car"
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A poem from Lucie Brock-Broido's first book and now classic work, A HUNGER, originally published in 1988.

Poem of the Day: "After the Grand Perhaps"
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