Have you heard of Jack Gilbert? An unusual, soulful poet who died in 2012. Look at his face—he looks like he’s suffered but still has a nice smile. I believe it’s good idea to start the day by reading poetry like his, rather than self help books, for one important Ninety-nine point nine percent of self help books are horribly written.

Perfectly fine advice about meditating twice a day, for instance, will be wiped out by trite sentences, incorrect grammar and limited vocabulary.

Wouldn’t we all be better off reading a few pages of great literature or even a bleak but well-written poem?

You have to admire this one by Jack Gilbert entitled “Between Aging and Old,” even if it is a bit dark:

 

I wake up like a stray dog

belonging to no one.

Cold, cold, and the rain.

Friendships outgrown or ruined.

And love, dear God, the women

I have loved now only names

remembered: dead, lost, or old.

Mildness more and more the danger.

Living among rocks and weeds

to guard against wisdom.

Alone with the heart howling

and refusing to let it feed on

mere affection. Lying in the dark,

singing about the intractable

kinds of happiness.

 

Somehow this poem opens my mind and creates the chance that I will have a good day—the true magic of poetry.